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“Alright, I’m coming” I say as I close my phone with a quick snap, surprised that it still hasn’t broken yet from my continuous texting. I put my phone in one of the four outside pockets of my purse knowing that no matter what I’ll have to search all four of them the next time I want to find it even when it is blasting my ring tone “Long Way 2 Go” by Cassie. I can never remember what pocket I put it in, and sound also means nothing when it comes to the size of my purse. I search it for the things that are vital to a day of driving, my iPod, the iPod connecter, and my camera, and see that they are all right in front of me. Perfect. I rush out the door because I want to pick Kelley up at least within ten minutes of telling her I’m coming, because I know that I cannot stand when people are late. As I drive I get stuck at the light by Liberty Bank, which is pretty much anyone who lives on my side of town’s worst nightmare, especially when you need to take a left. So instead, I put on my blinker and go speeding around to the right lane and go straight, because there are about three ways I could go to get to Viola Drive, and at the time this seemed the most convenient. I speed my way down Main Street, up Walnut Avenue, down Viola Drive, and into Kelley’s driveway, slowing down when hitting the slight bump at the top. She has gotten excellent with coming out the second I get to her house so I don’t even bother to text her telling her that I’d arrived. I see the left garage door open as I always do, and observe Kelley walking out towards the side of the house so she can type the code to make the garage door swallow up the green Toyota Highlander inside. She walks toward the car smiling with the sun in her face. “You’re not wearing the black dress!” I say, noticing that today she is wearing a fitted black tank top and jeans instead of the black one piece dress that she had been wearing all the time in the past weeks. “I don’t wear it that much, Michelle”, she replies while hopping into the car in one swift movement changing the subject with “So what are we doing?” At this point in the summer I have gotten used to her asking what we’re doing, so, like usual, I shoot back with “I don’t know, what do you want to do?” “I don’t care,” she says as she grabs my iPod and begins searching for a new song to listen to, whatever I have on when I pick her up is never the right jam, “I kind of want ice cream”. As I’m speeding down the straight section of her road we both hear my cell phone make the usual ringing noise meaning that I’d received a text message. As I pull up to the stop sign I keep my foot on the break hard as I search through my purse for the phone, and seeing that it’s a text from Keith asking “What’s up?” I text him saying “Kelley and I are going out; want us to pick you up?” and he replies with “Yeah give me five minutes”. I switch my foot from break to gas and take a right out off of Viola then take a quick left to be speeding down Walnut. I’m almost halfway down the road when I think to myself that I should probably slow down since Keith said he needed five minutes and we are a minute from his house. I take my foot off the gas letting us glide down the remainder of the road until coming to a slow stop at the bottom. I think Kelley is surprised also when Keith comes walking toward the car the second we pull into the driveway, when it normally takes him at least three minutes to get out of his house. As I’m speeding down the road toward Portland, we decide that we’re going to go to Ruby Tuesday’s in Cromwell because Keith says that he has a gift card there. The mentioning of this Ruby Tuesday’s automatically causes me to bring up the time last year when a few of my friends and I went there and we had this funny young waitress. She came over to our table and asked what we were doing that night and we told her how we were on our way to see “A Christmas Carol”, a play, because Keith was in it. She then proceeded to tell us how she used to do plays. “And then I got out of high school and I was going to try to go to Odd Fellow’s playhouse but then it was like 800 dollars and you wouldn’t even get a good part, so I was like damn”, she said. I explain while driving about how this waitress was making my friends and I die laughing, because after everything she said she would add “and I was like damn”. As I finish my story Keith laughs and says “Maybe we’ll see her”, and Kelley sits there not saying a word as her head bobs to the song “Can You Work With That”. “Tomorrow morning make my eggs with onions cheesy for me!” she yells over her own giggle, even so her voice still on key. That line and the chorus are the only parts of the song that we know, and she never misses it. I laugh with her as I always do when she tries to rap. I get us through Portland, over the busy Arrigoni Bridge, through the Middletown traffic, and onto route 9 within 20 minutes, and within 5 after that we are pulling into the restaurant. The waitress isn’t the one from the story earlier, but she still is nice. Kelley decides that she’s going to get chocolate cake and that is it because she isn’t really that hungry, I decide to get this plate of all random fried food, and Keith gets the salad bar. Keith leaves to go get his first salad as Kelley and I examine the booklet with all the alcohol in it picking out the bright colored ones saying how delicious they look. After we finish eating Keith pays with his gift card and we leave a big fat tip underneath one of our empty soda glasses leaving a wet ring across the top dollar’s edge. We walk through the parking lot as Keith yells “Shotty!” and by the look on Kelley’s face she doesn’t seem too bothered by getting the passenger seat stolen from her. After all, she never has been one to argue about something so small. The three of us decide that our next destination is Target on the Berlin Turnpike. Keith as my own personal GPS tells me which lefts to take and which rights to make. Target comes up quickly on the left, so I make the turn and park in a spot that is semi close to the entrance, however no one complains. The three of us stroll around Target and Keith gets me a new iPod connecter that works much better than the one I had been using. We realize that there is nothing else in the store worth looking at and leave through the automatic doors. Driving around aimlessly has never been so fun, especially knowing that I 1, shouldn’t have people in the car because it hasn’t been six months since I’ve gotten my license, and 2 my parents would probably kill me because I’m putting “too many miles on the car”. Every once in a while those thoughts cross my mind but not to the point where I actually care. I try to fix my hair as I’m driving; by now it has gotten a little less humid so we have the windows open. “You guys I feel so gross” I whine over the irritating sound of wind blowing in a half open window. At this point dusk is around the corner, which I get excited about because it’s my favorite time to drive (I’m a night person). It becomes dark so fast that I don’t notice we’re on a dirt road until it’s too late. “Oh my god Keith I can’t believe you brought me onto a dirt road!” I screech. “Oh whatever, Michelle. It’s fine, just stop up here.” Keith replies to my whine while staring out the window with my iPod in his hand. As Kelley and I start to get out of the car we notice Keith standing directly in front of the headlights telling us to hit play on the iPod. I adjust the sound in order to hear the song sufficiently in sequence with the dance steps. His feet move from side to side, the bottoms of his crocs scraping the pavement. Kelley and I stand here together watching Keith dance. We stand in silence smiling, shuffling our feet, looking around, and moving off the road when we notice another car is coming our way. After Keith is done dancing our smiles slowly fade to nothing but closed lips. The three of us decide that we’re going to leave; Keith tells us that he knows the way, so that makes me feel better. Guys always seem to have the tendency to do that with directions. As I inch the car closer to East Hampton at 50 miles per hour, Keith decides that he wants to take us to our final destination of the day’s road trip. He chooses a giant rock on a cliff that people like to jump off of into the river. After finally convincing Kelley and me that we aren’t going to die from walking through a cemetery in the dark, Keith leads us down a steep windy path. I feel the dirt crunch beneath my toes with every step I take. It is nice for me to finally have a break from driving and I enjoy sitting on the rock for every second that it’s worth. We sit and talk about random things that always seem to come up when we can’t think of anything else to say. It’s easier to get up the hill than it was to go down. At least, that’s what I think. The car flashes its lights at us as I push the unlock button on the remote. Light has never looked so good, neither has the comfy car seats. As I’m backing down the short but steep hill to the cemetery I’m afraid I’m going to hit something, but I manage to smoothly get us off the slant and into level. The ride home is relaxing; I drive an average speed and we listen to songs that don’t allow conversation. Sitting on Keith’s porch we laugh. I sit on the swinging seat and Kelley sits next to me. That’s when I see Keith standing up with the camera in his hand. I, already smiling, am not sure how to change my facial expression for a photo that I realize is about to be taken once Kelley flings her arms around me. I make my grin bigger, and smack my hands to the sides of my face. I feel the flash against my eyes and see spots. “That picture came out so good”, Kelley said. “I know,” I agreed, “It came out cute.” After the mini photo shoot is over, I look over at Keith and see him sitting and looking around his yard, not noticing my shift of position. I look over at Kelley and see her staring toward the road. I smile. The two of them are staring, not paying attention, Keith in his own world, Kelley in hers. And when I see the tiny hint of a smile on Kelley’s face, that’s when things feel just right.
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