Part 3
I liked to stick to the smaller, less congested highways and had used variations of this route before. I liked being able to steer clear from the beaten path the interstate system had created. Traveling this way I always knew where I was in the mix of smaller towns, tourist traps and scenery and I knew how to get to the more populated areas and major attractions. I liked the freedom to decide where I was going and it made me feel more alive.
Even when I checked into the Best Western that night almost too exhausted to keep my eyes open, I felt some kind of thrill words could never explain. Maybe it was from being back on the road without the excess baggage and drama that came with touring or maybe it was because I had listened to that instinct to just run away from my problems for once. Either way, it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
It felt good to strip down to my boxers and lay in a bed that wasn’t mine knowing my problems were hundreds of miles away. I was still at peace and half asleep when my phone rang.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed under my breath as I dug in my jeans for my phone, “Hello?”
“What the fuck is going on and why am I the one in the dark, again?” Taylor’s angry voice greeted me. Isaac was smart to ignore all his calls even if the 7 button on his phone was worn out.
“So…I take it you’ve talked to Ike.” I replied slowly.
“No! I came over to your place with leftovers and the damn place is ransacked so I called Mikayla and—“ Taylor rambled even as I closed my phone and laid back.
Even then it was too late to try and get back to sleep. The gears were turning and I wanted to know what Mikayla said to Tay if she even bothered to answer.
I didn’t want to call her…I wasn’t going to call her…I didn’t care about what she’d have to say to me…so, why the hell was I dialing her number?
“Hullo?” her soft, tired voice answered and I thought of the mornings she’d wake up and smile at me as she greeted me with that same soft tone.
My anger at her and the situation almost vanished at that moment, almost.
“What the fuck did you say to my brother!” I snapped out of nowhere.
“What the fuck does it matter!” Mikayla snapped back.
Well, she was awake now.
“I’m not going to sit back and let you talk shit about me to my brother!” I retorted as I sat up, like it would matter even though we were on the phone.
“Then you shouldn’t have run off like a pussy!” Mikayla snorted.
“Why the fuck would I want to stay in the same city as a twaffle like you?” I asked and closed my phone, dropping it to my lap.
I stared at my phone for a few seconds before I started laughing at the fact I’d just called the woman I once wanted to marry a twaffle, one of my younger brother’s favorite words. (Probably because neither of our parents realized it was a combination of the words twat and waffle.)
I let myself fall back against the pillow and tried to sleep again.
I rolled over and looked at the clock with a disgruntled sigh. 3:37 in the morning and the couple next door decided this would be a good time to fuck in a hotel room with paper-thin walls.
I pulled the pillow over my head. I tried listening to my IPod. Hell, I even tried meditation. None of it worked.
What finally did work was banging my fist against the wall and yelling, “If you’re gonna fuck, fuck quietly! Some of us need to sleep!” Then again, that’ll give any guy performance anxiety in a heartbeat.
I sighed and closed my eyes finally able to sleep again.
Later that morning I got dressed and went to check out at the last possible minute, laughing as the couple from next door left their room as I walked out of mine.
I was back on the road by noon ready for another taste of freedom.
