Once Upon a Road Trip (36 page)

“This game has a story!” Grady made the declaration without taking his eyes off the screen. His replica gun emitted a clicking sound every time he pulled the trigger.

Angie laughed. “I mean an actual plot—beyond shooting every bad guy that pops up from behind a shipping crate.”

“Picky, picky.” Grady cracked a grin and then grunted as his avatar took too much damage and his side of the screen began a countdown. He fed the device quarters until it allowed him back into the action.

Vince, in the mean time, had never seemed to break or even divide his concentration from the game. He’d gained a substantial point lead, which continued to grow as they completed the level objectives. By the time they’d reached a stopping point, it was clear he’d won.

“You really get into it, don’t you?” Angie said, as Vince turned the plastic weapon over to her.

Vince smirked but Grady chimed in before he could answer.

“He’s a machine. Back in high school, he used to play through a new game in two days.” Grady’s tone was one of reverence, giving the impression he found this feat to be somehow legendary. “He could go the whole weekend without eating or sleeping.”

Angie was vaguely horrified. “That -can’t- be healthy.”

Vince appeared more embarrassed than proud of himself. “It’s an ADHD thing. Once I get fixated on something I’m doing, I don’t really notice time passing.”

“Your Mom didn’t check on you or remind you to take a break?”

Vince rolled a shoulder in a shrug. “If she did, I didn’t notice.”

Angie decided not to probe any further, as Steven had already begun adding quarters to start a new game. She focused on her side of the screen and hoped she’d be able to keep up.

The game lasted five minutes before she conceded defeat. She was satisfied to have held her own for a while, at least. By then their theater had opened, and the group filed in. Angie found a seat between Grady and Vince.

“Hey, do you want some popcorn or something?” Grady asked her as Steven arrived, arms loaded down with drinks he then handed to each of them.

“Oh yeah, I brought food,” Vince said. “Thanks for reminding me.”

He had stopped at a gas station on their way in and picked up snacks, which he’d smuggled into the theater via the many pockets of his cargo pants. As he retrieved the items, Angie collected the inventory into her lap, beginning to wonder at her host’s nutritional status. Two packages of gummy worms, a pouch of Doritos, three bags of miniature cookies, and a chocolate bar for each of them. The candy bars, however, had been forgotten in his pocket long enough to have liquefied within their sealed wrapping.

Angie held up one of the chocolate bars and demonstrated its condition by squeezing the packaging.

“Okay, so that wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had,” Vince said.

Grady gave the candy bar a pained expression as he selected one of the bags of cookies. “What a waste.”

“It’s not wasted. It’s just…more challenging,” Angie said. To support her argument, she gingerly pulled open one end of the candy bar and borrowed the straw from her soda to spear into the middle of the gooey mess.

“That would be awesome if it actually worked,” Grady said with a low chuckle.

Angie put the straw to her lips to test her theory. The dark liquid was thick, but not to the point of collapsing the straw. To her surprise, it climbed up the tube with relative ease until she tasted chocolate.

“Wow.” Steven’s voice came from the other side of Grady, where he’d leaned forward to watch.

“That is probably the single coolest thing I’ve seen in like a month.” Grady sounded genuinely impressed.

“And what does that say about your life, G?” Vince heckled from the other side of her. Despite the satire, he seemed just as entertained as the other two.

As silly as it was, Angie couldn’t help but smile in triumph.

The movie was a complete success as far as Angie was concerned. She ceased monitoring the reactions of her three companions halfway through, satisfied they were all enjoying it as much as she was. As they left the theater, the boys encouraged her to choose their next location. A bookstore nearby caught her attention, and she was relieved when her suggestion was met without skepticism.

In a short period of time the group had settled into a natural cohesiveness, the likes of which she’d rarely experienced even among friends she’d known for years. Grady had a dynamic, sociable way about him that kept a light banter going between them all, while seeming to act as a catalyst for Vince’s sharp wit. Steven contributed a pleasant, calming presence, flavored by infrequent but thoughtful commentary. Despite being the only source of estrogen among them, Angie found herself at ease.

Inside the bookstore, she browsed the bestseller rack before combing through the magazine aisles. It took her several minutes to realize her three cohorts were following behind her like lost ducklings. Amused, she shooed them off, suggesting they meet up again once they’d all found something to read.

It was dark by this time and the store wasn’t busy. Still, Angie decided they ought to stay out of the way of the more legitimate customers. They regrouped near the back of the store, where Angie claimed a set of cushy chairs. Grady dropped into the chair beside her, toting a computer hardware guide. Vince followed close behind with a game design manual and perched himself on the chair arms between them.

“Not exactly light reading, guys,” Angie teased, cracking open a local Birmingham magazine that boasted of the city’s renowned restaurants, fine arts, and vibrant night life. Considering most of the Alabama-related images in her mental Rolodex were in black and white and revolved around the civil rights movement, she hoped to update her outlook on the city.

“Hey, I have certifications to study for if I’m ever going to get decent pay,” Grady said.

“I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of law against reading for fun while you’re in college,” Vince added, plaintively.

Steven headed their way with a thick graphic novel in hand. Angie recognized the book at a distance. “I just read that one when I was in New York,” she said as he neared. “It was good, especially if you like that character. It answers a lot of background questions.” Steven’s pale brows lofted, and he turned the book over to scan it before settling cross-legged onto the floor near his cousin. 

Grady marveled aside to Vince in a dramatic stage whisper, “Dude, where did you find this girl? She’s smart, she games, she reads comics, and she gets our sense of humor. I don’t think she’s real.”

“I ordered her off the internet,”  Vince whispered back, deadpan.

Angie felt herself shrink at their approval. Unsure how to take the public compliment, she lifted the magazine to hide her face. With her concerns over her awkward first day fading into obscurity, she was actually beginning to enjoy herself.

Chapter 22

After giving his cousin a ride home, Grady had made his way back to Vince’s house to meet up with the other two. It was nearing midnight by the time they all arrived, and the lengthy night drive had made Angie drowsy. Her host and his friend seemed to think the night was still young, and so she rallied a second wind.

Grady went through Vince’s media shelves and pulled out several amateur films they’d both participated in. The first was a James Bond spoof. The second short movie was a modern reenactment of the assassination of Julius Caesar. In it, Grady played Caesar and Vince assumed the role of Brutus. The film ended with Grady delivering a long-winded speech as Caesar while standing at the end of a dock. After which, he was hurled into the lake by a mob led by Vince.

Angie glanced over her shoulder at Vince, recalling several villainous characters he’d created for the story-writing community. “Why am I not surprised you played the bad guy?”

Vince grinned. “I like to stick with what I’m good at.”

“It was supposed to be for a history project,” Grady said.“But somehow, we didn’t get points deducted for being historically inaccurate on pretty much everything.”

Vince smirked. “I don’t think we cared about accuracy. We just wanted an excuse to throw G in the lake.”

Grady shot Vince a wary look. He craned his neck side to side, eliciting a few low popping sounds before muttering something about his back bothering him.

“It’s probably from cramming yourself into that girly little coup for two and a half hours every day,” Vince goaded. “You know, you could trade it in for a -real- car.”

“Hey, it’s a perfectly manly vehicle.” Grady bickered back at a near-whine. “And I’ve almost got the thing half paid off.” 

“Not at the rate you’ve been getting tickets in that cop-magnet.” Vince laughed.  He edged around Angie, gathering up the movies. Angie absently noted how quick he was to put them away. Vince had been entertainingly dramatic in the films — possibly even talented, she thought. Yet he didn’t appear to relish the attention. 

“I might be able to fix your back.” Angie looked to Grady, gauging his receptiveness to the idea. “I’m pretty good at massage.” 

“Seriously?” Grady’s bark brows raised in surprise. “Are you going to school for it or something?”

“I might after I finish my Associate’s degree,” she answered, hesitating.
I -might- do a lot of things, if I could just make up my mind.“
I’ve taken a few classes on it. It’s pretty expensive to get certified, and I don’t know if it would be a good idea to end up with a job where I’d be so dependent on my hands.”

“Yeah, but it pays really well.” Grady looked around the room, seeming uncertain. “What do I need to do?”

Angie waved a hand toward an open area of the carpet in front of the dresser. “Just lay flat on your stomach.” After he’d complied, she knelt beside him and placed her hands against his shoulder blades. She could tell she would have some difficulty, given how muscled he was.

“I’m next,” Vince said as he stood and meandered back to the futon. He’d put in one of the rental movies, seeming content to entertain himself as he lounged.

“We’ll see how much trouble he gives me first,” Angie said before rising. “Okay, so I could wear myself out trying to tenderize you the old-fashioned way…or I can try this.” She placed the pads of her bare right foot between Grady’s shoulder blades and slowly added more of her body weight behind it.

Relenting to the pressure, the air was forced from Grady’s lungs in one long, whimpering groan. The end of his deflation was punctuated by a simultaneous round of popping sounds. Angie felt the abrupt chorus resonate up through her leg, and she smiled to herself in satisfaction.

Vince shuddered. “You know what? Never mind. I’m good.”

Grady shrugged his shoulders as Angie lifted her foot. “No, actually…that feels a lot better.” He sounded surprised. “What is that, the Japanese back walking thing? Shiatsu?”

“Close.” Angie chuckled. “‘Shiatsu’ means ‘finger pressure,’ I believe. ‘Ashiatsu’ is ‘foot pressure.’” She reached out and placed a steadying hand on edge of the dresser, mindful not to jostle the pictures and knickknacks. “Hold still,” she warned, placing her lead foot flat along one side of his spine before using the dresser top to reduce her weight as she pulled up the other foot.

Grady sucked in a breath and grunted. He continued to hold that breath while she steadied herself and began rocking forward and back. She shuffled her feet by tiny increments upward as he finally exhaled, rolling onto the balls of her feet to concentrate her weight between his shoulders. Several more cracking sounds resulted, and she hopped back onto the floor to give him a chance to recover.

“Wow. I’m pretty messed up, huh?” Grady muttered, muffled in part by the carpet.

“Did you break him?” Vince called from his side of the room.

Angie nudged at Grady’s side with her foot. “Can you still wiggle your toes?”

Grady bent his toes and then rolled his ankles, though he seemed sluggish about any other movements. He eventually rolled himself onto his side and then up into a sitting position. “That feels a -lot- better.”

Angie smiled. “Good. But I’m not done—turn around.” She folded herself down to sit behind him. Picturing the location of his trapezius muscles in her mind, she began kneading her fingers along his neck and shoulders. As brawny as he was, she had to switch to using the flats of her knuckles with a twisting motion to address the deeper points of tension.

Grady became even chattier as his posture melted into a forward slump. They talked at length about their shared interest in a particular punk rock band, which led them into other commonalities in their backgrounds, and even personal beliefs. Angie was pleasantly surprised by the ease of their conversation. Like her, Grady came from what he considered to be a somewhat functional family and had grown up in a church where his parents were active members. As a result, he’d taken any sort of personal faith for granted until his mid-teens. In the retelling, he spoke with an openness that Angie appreciated.

Once she’d finished her work, he turned around to continue their conversation face to face. By that point, Vince had long since fallen asleep sprawled across the futon, and they made an effort to keep their volume low.

“My sister must be about the same age as yours,” Grady said, after they’d touched on the topic of siblings. He pulled out his wallet and offered her a picture of the sixteen-year-old in question.

Angie took it from him to examine. The slender young girl shared her brother’s dark, expressive eyes and tanned complexion. Her heart-shaped face was one of pleasant features, enhanced by an expert layering of makeup. Shoulder-length hair had been lightened, highlighted, and ironed to fall in a silky curtain around her head.

“She’s gorgeous,” Angie said with a smile as she handed the picture back. “I bet she’s popular at her school.”

“Yeah, she does pretty well for herself.” Grady formed a fond smile, tucking the photo back into his wallet. “She’s always entering some sort of pageant. My mom must have dropped a couple grand on dresses for her already,” he grumbled, and then seemed to think better of his tone. “Not that I think it’s -bad-, it just all seems a little…shallow. And she’s not a great judge of character yet, so she’s got all of these loser guys chasing after her who only want one thing. I end up being the one to run off the worst of them.”