Home > Truly, Madly, Like Me(5)

Truly, Madly, Like Me(5)
Author: Jo Watson

“It’s good luck,” I screamed as I drove away.

 

 

CHAPTER 3

 


I’d been driving for five hours already, and it had taken me at least three to figure out how to drive this car at a normal speed without unintentionally breaking land-speed records. I’d also had to fill this thirsty, blue beast up with petrol already! But now my ears were aching from the noise of the thing. It sounded like a racecar tearing around a track, and I couldn’t fathom how anyone could drive like this. I passed Bloemfontein and the Free State, and was soon heading out onto the open road that led into the Cape. A spray of pink and white Cosmos stretched out on the sides of the road, the South African signal that we were going into autumn. I’ve always loved Cosmos. I remember one Easter holiday we’d stopped to pick some, and then put them in a vase later that day. But the sad thing about Cosmos is you can’t keep them beautiful; as soon as they’re picked, they begin to die. I always thought that was so sad.

But the vegetation and scenery started to change as I drove into the Northern Cape, deeper into the Karoo desert. The sun was beating down on me, so hot that a rippling haze had formed at the horizon. The land around me was flat. Not a tree, not a building, not an anything rose up to break the desolate flatness. Bleak. That was the only way to describe it. Hot and bleak and far, far away. I hadn’t seen a car for hours and this place felt like the loneliest, most remote place in the entire world. I felt so alone out here, driving in the blue cheese, that I wasn’t surprised when the salty prick of tears formed in the corners of my eyes and I felt one trickle down my face. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and pushed on. But another half an hour later I needed to pee. Badly.

I pulled my phone out, ignoring all the blue notifications, and went straight to Google Maps. I typed in “Petrol Station” and waited for Maps to present me with the nearest one. But when it returned the result, my shoulders slumped. It was three hours away. At the town I was headed to. That’s how in the middle of nowhere I really was. I was in no-man’s nowhere land. A place where petrol stations and pitstops were about as few and far between as trees. And now I was going to be forced to pee on the side of the road.

The road was single lane—it had no emergency lane and the sun had warped its surface so badly that it was falling apart at the edges. Simply crumbling away on the sides and falling into little piles of sand and rocks. I needed to pull over, but the blue cheese wasn’t built for any kind of off-roading, and one of those small stones was sure to rip the bumper clean off. Since I hadn’t seen a car in hours, I took my chances and stopped in the middle of the road. I dug through my handbag for a tissue or something to make this roadside pee experience as pleasant as possible. My fingers brushed past the white envelope and I paused on it momentarily, a lump forming in my throat.

Should I open it?

I pulled the envelope out and held it up to the light, hoping to get a sense of what was inside. But the paper was thick and no matter how many times I angled it, I couldn’t see more than a vague outline of something.

“Whatever!” I pushed the envelope back into my bag because it was making me feel . . . feel what? I opened the mood-tracking app on my phone and started scrolling.

Angry. Annoyed. Anxious. Apathetic. Blah. Calm. Confused. Confident. Content. Cute. Depressed. Eager . . .

I sighed. All of the above. None of the above. The stuff in between? Maybe there wasn’t a name for the emotions I was feeling at the moment, or maybe they were spinning and cycling so quickly that from one moment to the next I didn’t know what I was feeling. A sudden sharp pain in my bladder told me that I’d ignored it for far too long, so I reached back into my bag and pulled something out. Purena Moisturizing Facial Wipes.

“Mmmm.” I turned the package over in my hands and read the ingredients. Not that I knew what any of them were, or whether they posed a serious threat to my lady parts. Not that that was necessarily a problem either, because that area wasn’t going to be getting much action anytime soon . . .

I paused, lowering the packet of facial wipes, trying hard to remember the last time that @TheKyleWhite101 and I’d had sex. I honestly couldn’t remember. It’s not like our relationship wasn’t filled with romance, though. We were very romantic! Very!

There was that time we went to a game lodge and took those photos of ourselves in the Jacuzzi, sipping champagne together. God, that had been a difficult picture to take because of the lighting and the soapy bubbles. But it had been soooo worth it: 10,000 likes!

And then there was that time we’d put red and white variegated rose petals on our bed. We’d made a giant heart with them and lain in the middle of it wearing matching fluffy white bathrobes and slippers. That photo had gotten 12,000 likes. So, it’s not like we weren’t romantic, but, still, I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had sex . . . or kissed, for that matter. Really kissed. Not just kissed for the camera, which we often did. Photos of him kissing me on the cheek cheekily got lots of likes, especially if I pulled a silly, cute face and made a peace sign. But it had been ages since we’d kissed. You know, the kind of kiss that melts your kneecaps and gives you pterodactyls in your stomach.

I sat there for a moment, looking down at the facial wipes and running over the relationship in my mind. The urge to look at my phone was overwhelming again. I wanted to know what #Kaige were doing so badly that my fingers tingled. This was the longest time in years I hadn’t posted anything on social media. Usually by this time of the day I would have Tweeted something inspirational and carefully crafted, choosing an appropriate and trending hashtag to accompany it. I would have Instagrammed my breakfast and some of my workout, today was #DumbbellDay after all. Kyle and I would already be thinking of a couple post for the evening, and I would have done some kind of cute Snap, and would be preparing for my weekly vlog. But it had been four days since I’d posted anything, and that feeling was almost unbearable. I’d been thinking nonstop about posting. Especially today. Under normal circumstances I might have taken an ironic photo of the car for Insta, #uglycars. I might have posted a time-lapse video of me driving through the Karoo. I might have Tweeted about feeling such a sense of peace in the great, vast expanse (even though that was a lie), and then Snapped a fun photo of myself on the side of the deserted road with a cute bunny ear filter. And maybe, for humor’s sake, I might have also done a whole Need a toilet stop but don’t have tissues! Think it’s okay to use #Purena #facial wipes? (I tag them in case they want to do a brand collab with me.) #methinking #girlproblems #roadtrip

My shoulders slumped. The feeling of emptiness in the pit of my stomach was acute, huge and vast, like a sinkhole pulling everything into it. But I couldn’t dwell, my bladder felt like it was going to explode. I climbed out of the car, not bothering to shut the front door, and made my way to the side of the road. I looked around. Not another car in sight. I would have to do it quickly though. And so I did.

But just when I’d finished, Purena face-wiped and all (which I must say was actually rather refreshing), I felt a definite, looming presence. Someone, or something, was watching me. The feeling was so strong, so overwhelming, that I didn’t second-guess it. This was not in my imagination, and so I jumped up, pulled up my panties and looked around. I swung my head from side to side, my stomach bubbling with panic and my heart racing.

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