Chapter 1

            The beautiful thing about a road is the fact that it is disguised, veiled almost. It seems to be the most common piece of junk a person could stumble upon, or on for that matter. There isn’t anything spectacular about pathways or highways…. But that is exactly what makes them such a treasure. You see, traveling- adventuring- can be viewed in two different ways: where you go, or how you get there. The destination or the process. The end goal, or the hidden Easter eggs you find along the way; the people you talk to, the coffee shops you visit. The city’s historical monument, a town’s undiscovered pride. These are the stories that glue together the bricks of a neighborhood, the secrets that paved the sidewalks.

Adventures are elusive. Too often they seem to be the most intangible things in this world. They are tricky to understand, to grasp. Adventures are, many of times, thought to only be achievable at far off places, with the company of the bravest of spirits, the noblest of characters, and the kindest of hearts. In reality, it is found on the road, with the flawed and imperfect. And these flaws result in excitement, stories, and even adventures.

Most adventures start with a thrilling action scene…. This one is no different. The colors of red and blue always seemed honorable to me, like a call for freedom. But seeing them in the rear view mirror of my beloved Volkswagen bus did not arouse such feelings. Panic was the first emotion I felt. Pure panic. “They found us,” I hissed to Benny.

The boy next to me pushed his scraggly hair off his forehead, straining for a solution. “We can’t let them catch us.”

“I know that,” I snapped. I applied more pressure to the gas pedal and weaved through the cars that were too slow.

“Take the next exit,” Benny directed. I swerved to the right; cutting off three cars who honked angrily at me, and taking an exit that would lead me down some road in South Carolina. For a second the night was empty and silent and I thought we had lost them. But suddenly it seemed as if the dark clouds that trapped the night had cracked and let the sun shine through, by the amount of flashing lights that surrounded us. If lightening were the color of police lights, we would be in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Pull over, there’s nothing you can do about it,” Benny sighed; continuing to rake his fingers through his hair- a nervous habit he had assumed during our travels. 

I parked my car off the road a bit and pulled out registration and my license. “What do we do if they make us go home?” I asked nervously.

Benny shrugged. “I dunno, Ro… I just don’t want to go back.”

I cranked down my window and smiled sweetly at the man who approached me. “May I see your license and registration, please?" He growled, his voice muffled by the thick, gray mustache he wore.

I grinned and handed him what he requested. “Here you go, sir!” The officer muttered a harrumph as he took the documents and studied my picture.

“Rose Gerald?”

“That’s me!” I exclaimed, making my voice peppy and happy. I stole a glance at Benny, who raised an eyebrow. Let’s just say, I’m not known for being peppy and happy.

“Well, Miss Gerald, I just wanted to inform you that one of your brake lights is out…. However, by the way you were driving back there, I ought to give you a ticket.”

I nodded solemnly. “I completely understand, officer. I just didn’t know you wanted to pull me over… I mean, I’ve been on this road for a few hours now and no other police car seemed to notice my brake light, so I didn’t know about it. I just didn’t think you meant me, and I wanted to get out of your way… But thank you for informing me, I’ll be sure to fix it right away,” I smiled brightly at him, lying through my teeth. Of course I knew my brake light was out, I just didn’t have the money to repair it… Neither will I get that money any time soon. “Thank you so much for doing your job.”

He grunted and even though his face stayed hard, his eyes softened a little. “Where are you kids off to anyway?”

“We’re taking a little road trip,” Benny offered. “We wanted to see all that this beautiful state has to offer.”

“Know of any good places to see?” I asked, resting my arm on the open window and leaning my face into my hand. I was aiming for innocence.

The officer listed a few of his favorite places in the state of South Carolina. “You know, you remind me a lot of my daughter, Rose.”

I laughed a little. “I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl. What’s her name?”

“Mariana,” this time he smiled, thinking fondly of his daughter.

“Well, she’s a lucky girl to have a father like you,” I paused for a second then, as if almost forgetting, said, “Oh, the ticket! We should be on our way, but first you better fill that out.” I nodded toward the pad of paper he held.

“Erm… Well, I’m sure I can just write this off as a warning.”

I gasped. “Oh my goodness, would you really?”

He nodded. “Sure… just make sure to fix that brake light. And drive safe.”

“I will, sir! Oh thank you very much!” The man nodded and Benny said goodbye before I rolled my window up and exhaled. I looked over at my traveling partner, who was staring at me. “My cheeks hurt,” I muttered.

“I don’t even know what I just saw,” he admitted.

I shrugged. “There’s no way I’m paying for that ticket- or a new brake light for that matter.” I put the car into gear and looked for a way to reenter the highway. I stole a glance at Benny, who was still stunned. “Well don’t look so shocked. I can be charming if I want to be.”

“Normally I would argue that no, you can’t… But after that display. I mean, wow! You were actually a pleasant person there for a second.”

I smacked his arm. “Oh, shut up.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Ok, ok but in all seriousness, that guy didn’t recognize us. Maybe missing people reports don’t make it to South Carolina.”

“Or maybe our parents just didn’t report us. We’re both adults by now, and I’m sure they know we ran away, that we weren’t abducted or something. Maybe they just didn’t want to make the effort,” I suggested.

Benny picked at his fingernails. “I would like to think that my family reported me…”

I scoffed. “Why?”

“Because then it shows they might actually care about me…” he trailed off, suddenly finding his cuticles fascinating.

“You’re being ridiculous. Who cares?” I merged back onto the highway before looking at him again.

“I don’t, I’m just being stupid.”

“Yeah, you are,” I agreed.

He glared at me and my blunt attitude. “Don’t you want a family who loves you?”

“It’s not a matter of want, Ben, we don’t always get what we want. Wanting something that you can’t control is foolish.”

“But don’t you?” he raised his voice.

I was about to yell back at him to shut him up, but I bit my tongue. I came from a rich family, although wealth and success were not just handed to us- my dad had to work for it. And now, when things were going great in the business world, he was addicted. The only thing that was on his mind was working and buying and selling and succeeding. I hardly ever saw him, and when I did, his mind was in another world.

My mom had her own addiction- looks, fashion, and fitness. She was constantly flipping through magazines; critiquing the newest trends, learning the best workouts, figuring out new makeup tips. She was more concerned about the way she looked than she was about me, unless, of course, she was concerned about my appearance. So naturally, as a child, I would dream of the perfect family- a family of five, two sisters older than me and a loving father and mother, eating grilled chicken, sharing stories, laughing, and interested in the others’ lives. We don’t always get what we want, but that doesn’t keep us from wanting. “Of course I do,” I mumbled. “But that’s not what I got, so let’s change the subject.” The conversation was dropped, but Benny didn’t start another, so I drove in silence.

 

About a month ago is when this entire story started- in college, outside my dorm, to be specific. I threw open the door in frustration to reveal Benny leaning against a tree outside the building complex. “You look happy today!” he noted.

I glared at him and threw my backpack over my shoulder. “Do you ever just want to leave?”

“Leave what?” he asked.

“Leave here, leave these idiots.”

He stifled a grin. “We are going home in two weeks… once exams are over.”

We started heading towards the class we shared. “I hate home, I’m completely dreading going back. But I texted my mom, reminding her to schedule a doctor’s check-up right? And she responds with, ‘you’re coming home?’”

“You’re kidding right?”

I rolled my eyes. “I wish I was… But I mean, what was I expecting?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t we just run away?” These words were said so childishly, with such audacity that I couldn’t help but laugh and let my mind follow his fantasy.

“Sounds so appealing,” I agreed.

“Go travel the United States…”

“I’m game,” I teased. “When do we leave?”

“Rose, I’m serious.”

His sudden change of mood caught me off guard. Benny had a great sense of humor, but he was occasionally hard to read. Even I had a hard time deciphering certain comments. Dismissing it, I chuckled and shook my head, gently slapping his stomach with the back of my hand. “Come on we’re going to be late.” I jogged a little to our classroom, Benny at my heels, not realizing that he called me by my full name until I was seated in a desk. While my real name was Rose, I thought it was a bit cliché and delicate. I asked people to call me Ro for short and to add a level of uniqueness to something as important as a name. Names are your identity, they become you. Names evoke a certain feeling or reaction to match your character- they’re important. And I wouldn’t want people to have this predisposition that I was some frail and helpless female or a hopeless romantic, so I went by Ro. I didn’t hate my name, and I wasn’t offended when people called me by it, but I just preferred Ro. Benny didn’t call me Rose unless he wanted to get my attention or was completely serious about something. If I didn’t know him any better, I would think he was earnest in this adventure idea. I shook my head, wishing we could leave, and prepared for another boring review week for finals.

Each day was almost identical to this one- Benny would meet me outside my dorm, even if we didn’t share a class that day, and bring up running away for summer break. I would always respond sarcastically.

“Let’s go adventuring.”

“Sure! As soon English class is over. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

“Let’s run away.”

“Once I finish this paper I’m in.”

“Let’s go travel.”

“First lunch… then let the journeying commence!”

We planned our faux route, imagined the exotic food, visualized the sketchy motels we would have to stay in. We even made a bucket list of stupid, illegal activities to participate in, such as tagging a train, jumping off piers, driving on the left side of the road for at least a minute. Most of these I had to come up with; Benny’s idea of “illegal” was putting sticky notes into books at the bookstore and driving with the music too loud.

The amount of times people have speculated if Benny and I were dating was out of control. I used to tease the girls who asked and told them we were actually friends with benefits, but he was always looking for a steady girlfriend. Benny made me stop when he found out people actually believed me. Girls were constantly throwing themselves at Benny… literally. I think I’m up to six. Six girls have pretended to trip right in front of him, trusting that he would be the gentleman we all knew he was and help them up. He always did.

Of course, Benny has told me that guys have asked about me too, but I don’t believe him. I’m pretty sure he just feels bad that he has all the attention. Even if I did have dashing secret admirers, I would turn them all down. I managed to escape guys in high school by saying I didn’t believe in dating so young. I’ve been trying the same method here in college, although Benny has been telling me to find a new excuse. Apparently senior year of high school and senior year of college include two different age groups, and the latter are more mature. I know it’s true; I just don’t like to admit it.

Benny and I attended high school together; in fact he’s one of the only reasons I got through it. I hated high school. Our story isn’t what most people would expect, sure he’s my closest friend, but I had plenty of others in school. And yes, there were girls too. We weren’t the “lame crowd”… any teenager that went to school would know that there is always a lame crowd, no matter how small the school is. I guess you could even say Benny and I were pretty popular, or more like Benny was popular. Benny is charismatic and outgoing, he draws people to him. I’m negative and an introvert, I tolerate people. Benny was revered, I was respected… Or maybe feared. Either way was fine with me. I lived by my own vibes, and so did Benny, only his vibes were sensitive to others. We didn’t try to match what people thought we should be like, and maybe that’s why people liked us- we were different, but our classmates liked our difference. Instead of picking on us, they admired us.

Girls were in love with Benny back then too, I had to many of times explain that we were just friends. Some didn’t believe me. The thing with Benny and I is that we are so close; we are way past any possibilities of dating or feelings for the other. I have never worried about him liking me- you wouldn’t fret about your brother developing feelings for you, so I don’t fret about Benny. I guess there was a time, freshmen to sophomore year of high school I would say, when we wondered if there was something going on between us. It blew out as quickly as it was lighted.

Benny was an enigma to understand. He didn’t fit a stereotype, which bothered him sometimes. He liked for everything to fit together and make sense, he liked knowing and understanding. To put in simple terms- he thought like a hipster, he dressed like a gamer (jeans and stupid shirts with stupid quotes on them), as smart as a nerd, as deceiving as a politician. He was knowledgeable in terms of reading and television and the arts. He stayed up to base on the news and was well spoken. Girls thought he was perfect. As a joke I used to say, “Oh trust me… he has his flaws,” then I would pause for a long time as if trying to think of one, “I mean… sometimes he… he can be… Oh! Well sometimes he wears socks with sandals.” The girls would always walk away with a dreamy look in their eyes, believing his only flaw was a fashion no-no. Yeah, I like to mess with people’s heads.

I guess I don’t fit in a stereotype myself, but I’m not as well rounded as Benny. I used to have long, beach-wavy hair that my friends fondly dubbed as my mermaid hair. I made a few of them cry by chopping it all off to my shoulders the day after high school graduation. My hair and I have a constant battle… I’ve been tempted too many times to get a complete boy cut, but not wanting to seem like I was following the newest trend, I kept it as it was. Almost as my way of showing dominance, I dye it at least once every 3-4 months. I bury my emotions in books and undiscovered music. I wrestle with profound thoughts that never have a pacifying solution and are as futile trying to figure out as endeavoring to reach the deepest caverns of the ocean floor. But this never stopped me from thinking and wrestling. I also used to paint, but the strokes of the brush only resulted in murky, depressing colors and contorted shapes. It scared me to see my mind so discouraged and dark, so I haven’t painted in a few years.

The one talent I possess that hardly anyone knows about is dancing. I love to dance; it is my number one escape and freedom. My high school dance teachers sucked the joy from it, which caused me to temporarily quit, but once I got out of there and away from them, I started again. In college, Benny is the only one who knew about it. I, from time to time, would rent out a studio room for a couple hours and just dance until my body shakes and sweat drips from my forehead. The movement and flow of my body seem to release me from whatever disgusting life crisis has its grip on me. To me, this was liberating.

I considered us to be two of the most common individuals in the world, but that’s what made us so unique and powerful. That is what made us capable of anything.

Author's Note

Any and all feedback would be very much appreciated!!!!
"Criticism may not be agreeable, but it is necessary. It fulfills the same function as pain in the human body. It calls attention to an unhealthy state of things." -Winston Churchill