"Where the hell are we going anyway?" Cynthia asks Jess in a stern tone.
We've been on the road for several hours, stuck in Jess's mini cooper listening to nothing but Harry Styles and Miley Cyrus. As someone who doesn't enjoy pop music or constant bickering, this car ride has been nothing but pure hell. All I can smell is patchouli and shitty perfume trying to mask the smell of weed, which is soaked into the seat covers, and failing miserably. As someone who gets easily nauseous, the combination of the musky scent floating throughout the cramped car and Jess's constant swerving, I want nothing more than to roll down my window and throw up, but I don't want to ruin our trip.
Jess is a seamstress who spends her day smoking weed and dying second-hand clothing to sell at craft fairs. We met in our first year of college, she lived down the floor from my dorm, and we've been roommates since. Although she's a shitty driver and doesn't know the difference between there, their and they're, she's still a great friend. Her girlfriend Cynthia though is more than a handful. With a Masters degree in Marine Biology, Cynthia spends most of her time in the lab studying fish and other ocean creatures, while also constantly trying to be in control of everything. I think that Jess and Cynthia are great for each other, but I have a feeling they'll be breaking up soon. I've known Jess for a decade now and Cynthia has been part of the picture for less than two years, both of which have been more than painful. With our differences and Cynthia's constant need to know Jess's whereabouts, I'd say we fight at least once a day.
"Hey Soph, do you need me to pull over?" Jess asks me, concerned. I'm currently laid across our sleeping bags in the back seat, about to throw up. My hands are clammy and I'm starting to see stars. Jess takes a hard right to the side of the road, hitting every rock she possibly can, shaking the whole car. A bit of last night's veggie lasagna comes up my throat, stinging the top of my mouth. Crystals start to fall from Jess's dashboard into Cynthia's lap.
"HEY, What the fuck babe! I told you not to put your fucking stones up there." Cynthia yells at Jess as she starts to throw her crystals out of the car. Jess, absolutely infuriated now, yells back.
"What are you doing! Stop that right now! Do you know how expensive that Jasper was! Go pick it up!" At this point, I've now managed to sit up and open the car door, ready in case of an emergency, also, in case I need to flee the crime scene.
This isn't the first time this has happened. When Cynthia first came into our lives, she and Jess would argue daily. I'm not sure why they decided to continue dating given that all they did was fight and scream at each other. One night it was so bad that Cynthia flung a cup at Jess, missing her by a few measly centimeters. She still has scars caused by the shards of exploding ceramic scraping her shoulder. I had to call 911 that night because Cynthia wouldn't leave. She wanted to stay to clean up the mess; I could tell she felt bad. But that didn't stop me from kicking her out myself. I'd say I'm average height, so to have the ability to kick a 6'2 lesbian out of our house, I'm pretty damn proud.
"You fucking bitch! You lost it! My fucking Jasper, You lost it!!" Jess screams, getting out of the car stomping over towards Cynthia, who is now found crouched down in the ditch, searching frantically.
The wind picks up, pushing the rain into the car. All our doors are open causing everything to get wet, including me, who now is hunched over puking up carrot and zucchini bits onto my shoes. Feeling dizzy and light-headed, my body shivers up as the cold wind blows gusts of rain onto my pale face. The taste of stomach acid burns my throat as I try to speak up and help the situation.
"Guys... guys, stop... please. It's just a crystal.." I manage to gargle up as the sound of Jess crying continues to roar behind me.
"Yeah, babe, stop, you're pissing me off," Cynthia says as she scrapes the mud off of her knees.
Pure terror and fear run through my weak body as a blood-curdling scream emerges from behind me. Jess, now going through a complete breakdown, slaps Cynthia with every bit of energy she can muster up. Although Cynthia towers over Jess, she shows nothing but fear, now realizing that her actions have consequences.
"I'M DONE!! That's it bitch. We're over!!!" Jess screams as she stomps over to the passenger side door, slamming it shut before making her way around to the driver's seat.
"Get back in, Sophie, we're leaving."
Now shaking and full of concern, Cynthia's tone and demeanor change completely.
"Wait, stop, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw your rocks!" Stopping before getting back into the car, Jess looks over at Cynthia slowly and screams out at the top of her lungs,
"THEY'RE FUCKING CRYSTALS, YOU DUMBASS!!!"
She slams the door shut and starts the car, Harry Styles's song Kiwi blasts through the speakers as Jess pulls away with me shivering in the back seat. My shoes are still freshly covered in puke.
After about ten minutes of Jess mumbling swear words to herself as she speeds through the storm, I speak up.
"Should we go back and get her? It's pouring outside and she left her jacket."
"Fuck no, she deserves to be out there," Jess blubbers as mascara drips down her face.
"But we're an hour from Seattle, we might as well go back and bring her with us,"
"No Sophie, I can't be in the same space as that controlling bitch anymore."
"But..."
"THAT'S A NO!" Jess says, cutting me off.
A couple of minutes pass in complete silence. Jess's phone died during our fight, causing the rest of the ride to be tuneless and uncomfortably quiet. My nausea is now completely gone as Jess's driving has magically improved in the past little while. Maybe it's because her dashboard is now clear of hippy paraphernalia and there's no nagging lesbian sitting next to her. Realizing my mouth still tastes of stomach acid and vegetables, I look down at my shoes to see my barf is still present within the car. Carefully, I slide off my green and brown painted Converse, making sure no barf slides off onto my socks. Now free of any puke-covered clothing, I crawl up to the passenger seat next to Jess to make sure she's okay.
With a disgusted look on her face, Jess turns over to me, sniffing, and asks, "what the hell is that smell?"
"My puke.... and your weed," I answer back, holding in a laugh. Now throwing her head back and laughing hysterically, Jess and I are back to being best friends.
We've been on the road for several hours, stuck in Jess's mini cooper listening to nothing but Harry Styles and Miley Cyrus. As someone who doesn't enjoy pop music or constant bickering, this car ride has been nothing but pure hell. All I can smell is patchouli and shitty perfume trying to mask the smell of weed, which is soaked into the seat covers, and failing miserably. As someone who gets easily nauseous, the combination of the musky scent floating throughout the cramped car and Jess's constant swerving, I want nothing more than to roll down my window and throw up, but I don't want to ruin our trip.
Jess is a seamstress who spends her day smoking weed and dying second-hand clothing to sell at craft fairs. We met in our first year of college, she lived down the floor from my dorm, and we've been roommates since. Although she's a shitty driver and doesn't know the difference between there, their and they're, she's still a great friend. Her girlfriend Cynthia though is more than a handful. With a Masters degree in Marine Biology, Cynthia spends most of her time in the lab studying fish and other ocean creatures, while also constantly trying to be in control of everything. I think that Jess and Cynthia are great for each other, but I have a feeling they'll be breaking up soon. I've known Jess for a decade now and Cynthia has been part of the picture for less than two years, both of which have been more than painful. With our differences and Cynthia's constant need to know Jess's whereabouts, I'd say we fight at least once a day.
"Hey Soph, do you need me to pull over?" Jess asks me, concerned. I'm currently laid across our sleeping bags in the back seat, about to throw up. My hands are clammy and I'm starting to see stars. Jess takes a hard right to the side of the road, hitting every rock she possibly can, shaking the whole car. A bit of last night's veggie lasagna comes up my throat, stinging the top of my mouth. Crystals start to fall from Jess's dashboard into Cynthia's lap.
"HEY, What the fuck babe! I told you not to put your fucking stones up there." Cynthia yells at Jess as she starts to throw her crystals out of the car. Jess, absolutely infuriated now, yells back.
"What are you doing! Stop that right now! Do you know how expensive that Jasper was! Go pick it up!" At this point, I've now managed to sit up and open the car door, ready in case of an emergency, also, in case I need to flee the crime scene.
This isn't the first time this has happened. When Cynthia first came into our lives, she and Jess would argue daily. I'm not sure why they decided to continue dating given that all they did was fight and scream at each other. One night it was so bad that Cynthia flung a cup at Jess, missing her by a few measly centimeters. She still has scars caused by the shards of exploding ceramic scraping her shoulder. I had to call 911 that night because Cynthia wouldn't leave. She wanted to stay to clean up the mess; I could tell she felt bad. But that didn't stop me from kicking her out myself. I'd say I'm average height, so to have the ability to kick a 6'2 lesbian out of our house, I'm pretty damn proud.
"You fucking bitch! You lost it! My fucking Jasper, You lost it!!" Jess screams, getting out of the car stomping over towards Cynthia, who is now found crouched down in the ditch, searching frantically.
The wind picks up, pushing the rain into the car. All our doors are open causing everything to get wet, including me, who now is hunched over puking up carrot and zucchini bits onto my shoes. Feeling dizzy and light-headed, my body shivers up as the cold wind blows gusts of rain onto my pale face. The taste of stomach acid burns my throat as I try to speak up and help the situation.
"Guys... guys, stop... please. It's just a crystal.." I manage to gargle up as the sound of Jess crying continues to roar behind me.
"Yeah, babe, stop, you're pissing me off," Cynthia says as she scrapes the mud off of her knees.
Pure terror and fear run through my weak body as a blood-curdling scream emerges from behind me. Jess, now going through a complete breakdown, slaps Cynthia with every bit of energy she can muster up. Although Cynthia towers over Jess, she shows nothing but fear, now realizing that her actions have consequences.
"I'M DONE!! That's it bitch. We're over!!!" Jess screams as she stomps over to the passenger side door, slamming it shut before making her way around to the driver's seat.
"Get back in, Sophie, we're leaving."
Now shaking and full of concern, Cynthia's tone and demeanor change completely.
"Wait, stop, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw your rocks!" Stopping before getting back into the car, Jess looks over at Cynthia slowly and screams out at the top of her lungs,
"THEY'RE FUCKING CRYSTALS, YOU DUMBASS!!!"
She slams the door shut and starts the car, Harry Styles's song Kiwi blasts through the speakers as Jess pulls away with me shivering in the back seat. My shoes are still freshly covered in puke.
After about ten minutes of Jess mumbling swear words to herself as she speeds through the storm, I speak up.
"Should we go back and get her? It's pouring outside and she left her jacket."
"Fuck no, she deserves to be out there," Jess blubbers as mascara drips down her face.
"But we're an hour from Seattle, we might as well go back and bring her with us,"
"No Sophie, I can't be in the same space as that controlling bitch anymore."
"But..."
"THAT'S A NO!" Jess says, cutting me off.
A couple of minutes pass in complete silence. Jess's phone died during our fight, causing the rest of the ride to be tuneless and uncomfortably quiet. My nausea is now completely gone as Jess's driving has magically improved in the past little while. Maybe it's because her dashboard is now clear of hippy paraphernalia and there's no nagging lesbian sitting next to her. Realizing my mouth still tastes of stomach acid and vegetables, I look down at my shoes to see my barf is still present within the car. Carefully, I slide off my green and brown painted Converse, making sure no barf slides off onto my socks. Now free of any puke-covered clothing, I crawl up to the passenger seat next to Jess to make sure she's okay.
With a disgusted look on her face, Jess turns over to me, sniffing, and asks, "what the hell is that smell?"
"My puke.... and your weed," I answer back, holding in a laugh. Now throwing her head back and laughing hysterically, Jess and I are back to being best friends.