Write about a long, fraught ride in a car.
*****
Amanda had to wonder what she had been thinking. Sitting in the union on campus, the whole “find a ride buddy” thing had seemed like such a good idea. Meet someone new, have some company on the cross-country ride home for the holidays. So she’d answered the first note she saw on the bulletin board — not that many people were interested in driving from Austin to Boston, after all — and she’d been all breathless with pleasure at her own bravery.
Now, she was paying for it big time.
She snuck a sidelong glance at Brian as he pushed at his glasses again, one hand gripped tightly to the steering wheel. He had those goofy little magnetic sunglass lenses on, and apparently they were too heavy for the frames, since the glasses kept sliding down his nose. She wasn’t sure if it was the nervous sweating or the “got root?” t-shirt that made her ache with mortification for the poor guy. With distant objectivity, she figured he might actually be cute with a little self confidence and a lot of work. They barreled their way up I-35, headed towards Dallas in absolute silence.
Amanda shoved a russet-colored curl behind her ear and glanced sideways at him again. She’d already hooked her legs up under her as she watched the unending freeway in front of her. Conversation. It was going to be a long roadtrip otherwise.
She bit at a fingernail. “So, Brian. What kind of music do you listen to? I figure we’ll be dipping pretty heavily into each other’s CD collections.”
“I mostly listen to NPR. Public radio. If it is not that, it’s industrial, I guess. Prodigy, Nine Inch Nails, that kind of thing.”
Wow, Amanda thought. This car ride is getting even longer. At least NIN wasn’t terrible. Trent may by a little crazy, but he made good music.
“Did you see NIN at the Erwin Center? I heard it was a pretty good arena show.”
Brian looked at her. Even through the dark lenses, she could sense the skepticism radiating from his glance.
“I’m not much of a live music guy. Odd for Austin, I know.”
“Oh.” Amanda drummed her fingers on the car door, seeking inspiration. She loved live music, dancing, hitting the warehouse district. It was part of why she’d been drawn to Austin for grad school. She forced the conversation forwards. “So then, what do you do for fun?”
She could swear he cracked a cynical half-smile. At least, she thought it was cynical. He was incredibly hard to read behind those sunglasses.
“I host LAN parties.”
Oh God, she thought. She glanced at the dashboard clock. Thirty hours to go and counting…
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