My friend and I went camping one weekend.
6:00 a.m., a red truck arrived in front of my house in the suburbs. "BEEP, BEEP!" It honked.
"YO, JOSH! LET'S GO!" A voice came from the vehicle. The sound traveled across the street and penetrated my eardrums.
"QUIET! You'll wake the neighbors!" I opened the window and yelled back.
"Whatever you say, man." The driver pushed up her sunglasses and blasted music from the car.
"What the hell is wrong with her?" I ruffled my hair. My messy brown hair became a bird's nest.
I gathered my luggage and dashed to the truck. I threw my things on the back and went to the driver's window.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Evelyn?" I asked.
"Plenty is wrong with me, Josh. Hop in!" Evelyn said. She smiled and pointed her thumb at the passenger seat.
I rolled my eyes and rode shotgun. The second I slammed the door shut, Evelyn speeded off.
Her music gave me a headache, so I turned down the volume.
"Hey, what gives!"
"Eyes on the road. You drive. I control the tunes." I inserted a thumb drive. Then I changed the music to something less migraine-inducing.
"Oh, I love this song!" Evelyn hummed along.
"I know." I leaned back. My eyes wandered to my driver.
Evelyn's raven hair framed her face. Jade-green eyes and thick brows hid behind her sunglasses. She was wearing a black t-shirt with a metal band logo. I looked down; and saw her thick thighs and enormous bulge squeezed in tight black jeans.
"See something you like, Josh?" she asked.
"Don't drive with flip-flops; It's dangerous," I said.
Evelyn laughed. I turned to look out the windows.
Concrete and metal gave way to nature. After half an hour, we were on the country road.
"You didn't eat breakfast, right, Josh? I know this one joint. Their meat is excellent!"
"You mean Jill's Roadhouse."
"Hey, how did you guess?"
"We stop at Jill's all the time."
"OF COURSE, I can't pass up a good steak!"
"If only that were true," I said under my breath.
When we arrived at the restaurant, Evelyn ordered steak and eggs. I ordered coffee.
"Are you on a diet?"
"No, I know you long enough to know you won't finish your meal and push it on me."
"No, I won't!" Evelyn stuck out her tongue. "I won't leave a crumb!"
"We'll see."
Evelyn tried to prove me wrong. She was full after eating one-third of the plate. But she stuffed down more food. Her chewing slowed, and her face paled.
"You'll upset your stomach. Give it here!" I yanked the plate from Evelyn. She got up and sprinted to the restroom.
When I paid the bill, Evelyn came back and scowled at me.
"Your fault!"
"I told you so."
"You drive--SLOW--or I'll puke all over you!"
I rubbed her back and led her to the truck.
"Can I sleep in the back?" she asked.
"No, look into the distance to not get motion sickness."
"Boo!"
I drove under the speed limit up the mountain, which annoyed the cars behind us. I gave way whenever I could--but my primary concern was Evelyn.
"Are you okay, Buddy? Do you want to take a pit stop?"
"Shut up and drive." Evelyn closed her eyes and rested her hand on her forehead.
An hour passed, and color returned to her cheeks. She turned up the music and sang along. I didn't stop her this time.
I stepped on the pedal, allowing us to arrive at our campsite before noon.
It was a lakeside opening. Clearwater sparkled in the sunlight, and green mountains surrounded the area. No one was in sight.
"WOO-HOO! We're here!" Evelyn leaped out before the car stopped. She dashed to the lake. Her shoes flew in different directions. She spread her arms. The breeze blew her hair.
"Don't jump out of the car before it stops, you crazy bitch!"
I cut the engine and yelled at her.
"Come on, Grumpy, the weather's nice!" Evelyn waved at me.
"I swear, she'll break her neck one day!" I shook my head.
I unloaded the truck and set up camp. I erected a tent worthy of a Roman general. The canvas was thick, and the roof was high. I laid down two mattresses and pillows.
"Hey, you're done!" Evelyn peeked in.
"Thanks a lot for the help."
"Don't be mad. I made lunch!"
We got out of the tent. I saw a folding table with plates of food. There were sandwiches, chips, and soda.
"Surprised! And you said I can't cook!"
"Making sandwiches doesn't count as 'cooking.' "
"It does!" Evelyn stomped her foot.
I tasted a sandwich. The bread was soggy with mayo and mustard, but it was edible.
"I'm impressed."
"See! See! I'll make a good wife in the future!" She beamed.
"Whoever marries you will die of stress."
"Hey!" Evelyn yelped. "Don't curse yourself."
"Cough! Cough!" I choked on the soda.
"See? Didn't I tell you?" She stroked my back.