Highway Blossoms - Pitstop 1 (Patreon)

This is the first draft of a Highway Blossoms short story. It hasn’t been edited, proofread, or even a analyzed that heavily. You’ll probably even notice some weird quirks, such as the Ren‘py format for italics (because I wrote this on my iPhone). We’ll probably make it into some kind of DLC or light novel at some point. Not sure! It’s about Marina coming to terms with her sexuality. Hope you like it! (Also hope you read Next Exit).

HIGHWAY BLOSSOMS: PITSTOP 1

The city gives way to new condos and apartments. They dot the sides of the highways, beneath faded and rocky mountains. Then, they're gone, right behind us. Desert before us!

It's such a perfect picture, a snapshot of Las Vegas here and now. Of the people who live here and their lives. But by the time I get my phone out, the moment has passed.

Instead, I snap a pic of a motion blur and send it to both Tess and my little sister, Carissa.

"Anything specific you wanna do today, babe?" Amber takes her eyes off the road to look at me. She's wearing an oversized bucket hat with sunglasses resting on its brim, ready to face the day.

"Eyes on the road, buster," I tease. She looks great. Glad she's opening up her wardrobe a bit. "But nah, not really sure of what's out there between here and Baker. Just a lotta desert, I guess."

"We'll think of something." She smiles, then cranks up the tunes nice and good. There's this old live show from '77 that she keeps wearing out. One of the songs always gets stuck in my head, and whenever it cycles back on, I just wanna sing along and shout, 'THE MUSIC NEVER STOPPED!'

This is what we were doing before coming to Vegas for Tess' birthday, and now that we're leaving, it's right back to it!

Just me and my wife dotting the map from place to place, traversing the world in our tiny home on wheels.

...

Okay, fine. We aren't married yet, but we're going to be! One day! And if she doesn't pop the question at some point, I'll do it for her.

Wandering, wandering, wandering... I like it! It's limitless. For the first time in my life, I'm free. Free from school, free to love, and free to see all the places I couldn't before because I was stuck in Nowhere City, New Mexico. Are things always easy? No siree, you best believe. But we work through it, and Amber works through it. We make an effort to be better — together. As long as she's always doing her best, I'll always stick with her.

But there's gotta be stuff that happens in-between all that wandering, y'know? That's what makes it fun!

The problem with going wherever the wind blows you is that you don't really have plans. Not always.

Like now.

My phone buzzes. At first I expect it to be Tess reacting to my pic, but instead I get a rare treat — Carissa actually responded! Ever since she's turned 13, she's marched to the beat of her own drum, so you can never really tell with that girl. I like to think I was the same way at that age, but honestly, I think she's way cooler than I ever was.

CARISSA: thanks. i have no idea what this is.

At least she said thanks!

MARINA: its vegas!!!

MARINA: the outside of it at least

MARINA: we left today

CARISSA: yooo! you went to Vegas and didnt even tell me?

CARISSA: what'd you do? better have been something cool -_-

MARINA: alien convention!

CARISSA: why are you like this?

MARINA: like wat??? it was fun!!!

She doesn't answer that. Just ignores it entirely! Why even say something like that if you're gonna drop the subject right afterwards? I don't get these kids!

CARISSA: grandma margie got a copy of that article you and your gf were in.

MARINA: oooh! what did she say?!

CARISSA: she asked when you were gonna introduce her to your little friend.

"Aaaaaaagh!" I groan so loud it might just morph into a scream. Grandma, why are you so weirdly ambiguous?

"Uhhh, everything okay?" Amber glances over.

"Yeah. Just... Grandma stuff."

"Is that like that 'Mom stuff' you talked about the other day?"

"Kinda. Except it can make Thanksgiving more or less awkward depending on how much news she's been watching." I cringe as I try to forget about last year. Boy, did her and Dad get into it when he brought up the guy he was defending at the time, Mr. Perez.

MARINA: does she know that me and amber are.....

CARISSA: idk

MARINA: did dad not tell her?

CARISSA: idk

MARINA: can u ask???

CARISSA: you have her number.

MARINA: car i s2g

Aaaaand then she stops replying. Of course. GEE THANKS, SIS!

Ugggh! It's all that stupid article's fault. I have such a love-hate relationship with it. Love that I was in the local newspaper! Loved it so much that I even clipped it to mine and Amber's fridge. But hate hate haaaaaaaate that it never mentioned we're dating. No photo of us doing anything touchier than a handshake. It had to have been on purpose. I {i}know{/i} it was! It just keeps causing me more and more trouble. If it just came out and said it I wouldn't have to worry about this kind of stuff! It's already been hard enough as it is.

I sneak a peek at Amber while she's driving. How does she do it? How can she be so confident in who she is and what we are? Gramps must have been really cool guy when she was growing up, because not once has she ever seemed bothered about it. I wish I could be like that too, but being so open about it is all new to me. Something like the newspaper could be really helpful. '{i}EXTRA! EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT! MARINA HALE HAS A GIRLFRIEND THAT SHE LOVES A TON!' If only, right?

Nothing I can do about it right now, so there's no point in getting all bent out of shape. I'll deal with it when I have to. For now, I'll just... try not to think about it.

I tap my finger against my phone case and hum along to the music until I calm down a little. There must be a solo coming on, because Amber starts to quietly imitate one of Jerry's (that's what she calls him, but I've never met him) guitars. I have to pretend I don't notice so she doesn't stop. It's cute!

The wind rushes around us as the RV cuts against it. All the cabinets in the back rattle. My phone says it's 97 degrees outside, but the temperature gauge says it's 94. I'm not sure which one to believe. All I know is that I'm sweaty.

We zoom by a dented sign off the side of the road.

*Seven Magic Mountains*

*10 Miles Ahead*

"Hey babe, what are the Seven Magic Mountains? Sounds like something out of a fairytale."

"Saw that too. It's one of those theme parks, right?" She stops and thinks about it. "No, that's not it..."

"Oh? Are you saying there's something my girlfriend, the human travel brochure, *doesn't* know?"

"Well, hold on!" She gets a little pink. I'm just joking, Amber. It's okay not to know things. "Lemme think... Maybe it's got something to do with the number of mountain peaks around here." She nods, happy with her explanation. "Yeah, that's probably it."

She glances off into the desert and counts the mountains. I type it on my phone and pull the answer up in about a second.

"Found it!"

"O-Oh." There's a pause. "Can my phone do that?"

"Pfft. Not when it's that ancient." Seriously! It has a flip keyboard! Who even uses those now? "It says here that it's an art installation."

"Sheesh. Weirdos will put anything out in the desert, huh?"

"Oh hush. You don't even know what it is yet."

"Yeah I do. It's an art installation."

She grins. I glare.

"Okay, okay. What is it?"

"Rocks!" I tell her, matter-of-factly.

She points out the window at all the boulders sticking out of the sides of mountains.

"Not those. *These* are pretty — and painted! All stacked up nice and neat."

"Like rock balancing?" She cranes her head to look at my phone. We swerve into the other lane."

"Eyes on the road, baby! Eyes on the road!"

Our tires screech. Thankfully, no one's around to honk at us. Amber always gets peeved when they do that.

"Phones are kinda dangerous, huh" Amber gulps.

"Nah, you're just scatterbrained. Don't get us killed. Kay?" I kiss her on the cheek.

"So these 'Magic Rocks—"

"Seven Magic Mountains."

"Yeah, those. Didn't know what it was before, but I think we actually passed it on the way to Vegas. Think I remember seeing it off the exit to Terrible's."

"That's sort of a rude thing to call a place."

"It's a casino, babe."

"Sounds crummy. Let's not go there. "

Dumb joke, but I've learned by now that the way to this girl's heart is through wordplay. It works too, because she grins.

"How about the rocks, then?"

"Weeeeeeeeell, funny you mention that, 'cause I've already punched it into my GPS." I slap my phone down on the dashboard. "Just five miles away~"

"Oh, I get it now. You were always gonna make sure we ended up there."

"You know me so well."

"Uh-huh." She does that cynical scoff of hers, the one that always makes her sound like an old man. "You're *puh-retty* sneaky when you wanna be, you know that?"

"Better be happy I don't wanna be all the time then, or else you'd just keep falling for it."

"Not my fault cute girls are my weakness."

"Excuse you, there's only one cute girl in your life, thank you very much." Cassi is great and I already miss our candyshop cutie, but after everything that happened with her in Vegas, I don't wanna hear anything about other girls right now. At least not until I see the next one. "Besides, other than that little quirk I know you're invincible."

"So you don't mind me going 20 miles over the speed limit?" She's teasing, but I know she wants to. This girl would strap rockets on this RV if she could.

"Just don't miss the exit, smartypants."

"Fingers crossed we don't see a cop!" She slams down on the gas pedal and I'm thrown back into my seat. The laughter bursts out from inside my gut. We roll the window down and the dry air whisps through our hair. I turn the music up even louder.

Marina, I dunno how you stumbled into this life, but everyday I wake up happy that you did. These moments can't last forever. I know that. But at the very least, I hope the music never stops.

XXX

Amber parks the RV on a dusty patch of dirt, taking up a couple spaces and getting us mean looks from college boys in sports cars. She was wrong about it being 'just right off the exit.' We took the off ramp and it was, like, at least another 15 whole minutes before we got there! That's okay, though. It's like a special hidden nook in plain sight. Far enough to feel like an adventure, but close enough to wave to the cars on the highway.

"Fare thee well, AC. Gonna miss you," Amber mourns as she kills the ignition.

"Whew! It's already so stuffy." I hop out of the RV and into the fresh air... which honestly isn't that much cooler.

Amber slides down her sunglasses and stretches. "You'd think with all the gold we have, we'd have invested in a bottle of sunscreen by now."

"Babe," I gasp. It's just like the music festival!" Rows and rows of cars, sweaty people coming and going. Even a food truck! And in the distance, just down a fenced in path, are the towers of rocks. I count seven of them, just like the name says! They all look like neon rainbows, climbing to the sky as they pop out of the desert scenery.

"Everything reminds you of the festival."

"Well excuse me for not having a bunch of awesome life experiences. Not all of us grew up with a cool hippie grandpa, you know."

"S'cool. Makes it easier for me to convince you I'm cooler than I actually am."

"Aww babe, you don't need to try and convince me." I hug her from the side and snuggle my cheek against hers. "You're not fooling anybody."

"You're a sweethear— HEY!"

"Better keep up, {i}Ambee{/i}." Being with Amber has sharpened my teasing to a fine point. If she can dish it out, then so can I!

"Actually..." She glances at the food truck. "I'm kinda parched."

"Yeah. 'Cause coffee dehydrates you."

"That's a myth and a lie and I refuse to believe it." She looks over her sunglasses and sticks out her bottom lip. Her stern face isn't built for the puppy-dog look, but dangit, it's totally working on me. And I invented it! "Please..."

"Fiiiiiiiiiiine," I heave a fake sigh. "But you're gonna get me an ice cold orange soda. Kapeesh?"

"I thought you wanted orange, not peach."

I squint like an intense cowboy. Don't even bother to address her joke.

"Alright, alright. One orange soda coming up."

"Good." I lock into the nook of her elbow. We walk arm-in-arm all the way to the food truck.

Despite how many people are here, the line for the truck is actually pretty thin. By the time I start to sweat we're at the front.

"Next!" A man in a bushy mustache shouts from behind the window.

Amber strolls on up. I straggle behind her.

"Howdy," Amber gives a limp salute. "Can I get, uh.... You guys got orange soda?"

The cook with an even bushier mustache behind him answers. "Si."

"I'll take one of those then. Sell any beer?"

"Amber!" I scold her. We aren't even old enough. Like, yeah, Cassi gave us that peppermint wine the other day and it was pretty great, but this better not become a habit.

"Don't worry. We can share."

Well, maybe it's not so bad.

"No beer," the man at the window answers.

Amber steps on her tippy-toes and looks behind him, to the man cooking. "Sell beer for twenty-five bucks?" She gets straight to the point.

The main stops flipping the shredded meat on the grill. He shrugs.

"Si."

XXX

I chug the orange soda as soon as it's in my hands. Just absolutely destroy that thing.

Amber whistles as I crush it in my hand.

"{i}What?{/i} It's like one-hundred degrees out. I'm a thirsty girl!"

"Oh, trust me, I know." She clicks her tongue and winks, and I decide then and there that Amber is the only person I will ever allow to flirt with me this way.

"Oh, hush." Are we maybe a bit too open with these kinds of jokes? They make my heart flutter, but what if they come across as crass to anyone listening in? "Just drink your dumb dad beer."

"Ahhh. Nothing like a cold one after clocking out." She puts on a gruff and rusty voice, then opens the can with a satisfying crack. After a few gulps, she smacks her lips and hands it off to me. "Taste it."

"Oooh don't mind if I do." I grab it with both hands and put it to my lips. The smell reminds me of when my dad would invite his friends over to play poker. I've barely even tasted it when Amber speaks up.

"Banana water."

I choke. Spray the beer out like a sprinkler. "A-Amber! You can't just say that!"

"Tell me I'm wrong."

"So gross."

"Come on. I'm at least a little right."

I focus on the aftertaste. Fruity, but kinda watered down. If I ever drink beer again, I'll never {i}not{/i} be able to think of banana water.

"Okay fine. Just a little..."

XXX

We follow the small crowd of people from the parking lot and down the fenced-in path. Shriveled up weeds and wild cactus grow between the chicken wire. In the distance, over by the kinds of ancient mountains I imagine our old friend Mr. Gold Miner used to ride past on horseback, a dust devil twirls and kicks up a thin fog of sand. I reach into Amber's pocket to take out my phone, but like everytime I try to take a good pic of something that doesn't last forever, it's gone before my camera is even open! Fortunately, I have plenty of time to take a close up shot of the plaque that explains the whole art installation and the Swiss artist behind it. And this time, I swear I'm going to read it instead of forgetting about it in my gallery. Just... later. Yeah.

A pair of ATVs race across the sand close to the fence. In the back of one is a little boy decked out in something that looks more like a life jacket than a seatbelt. He stretches his hand out as far as the restraints let him, and even though I know my skirt will get a little snagged, I reach over the fence to slap him a quick high-five. He cheers as the ATV speeds away.

Amber chuckles. "Always have to make someone's day a little brighter, huh?"

"Just one of those sunny days! A little bit of kindness can go a long way. Besides, what you put in the world always comes back to you."

"Is that how it works?"

"Maybe! Even if it's not, it's worth showing to people that you care." It's true, too. If there's anything I've learned over the last couple months, it's that not everyone is happy. People like Tess, Mariah, and sometimes even Amber. I don't know if it's obligation, a hobby, or what, but cheering people up is a gift. I wanna use it.

"Huh..." Amber sips at her beer and looks down. I notice that she's trying to keep time with my pace. She does that a lot, and whenever I trade out my heels for these comfy sneakers, it feels like it's a little easier for us to stay in-sync. "Good to know..."

The seven rock towers, standing mighty and high, are closed in by traffic barriers decorated in stickers and graffiti, the kind you see in zombie movies. A folding chair lays toppled over by a small opening for people to trickle into. Doesn't look like there's any security, so we walk right in! It's strange how even just setting up a barricade around something can completely transform the feeling of a space, but as soon as we walk through them it feels like we've been transported to somewhere else entirely. All seven of the candy-colored boulders are stacked so high that I have to shield my eyes from the sun to see the top of any of them. Each stack has a different color scheme. One of them reminds me of the sunrise, with the top rocks being yellow and blue. But another one reminds me of the sunset! There's a different vibe to each one, but they all somehow manage to feel coordinated and whole. Like an alien Stonehenge (though you can't convince me that the real Stonehenge {i}wasn't{/i} done by aliens either).

"We're taking pictures in front of all of them." I reach into Amber's other pocket and pull out my disposable camera, never taking my eyes off the rocks as I wind the film for the first shot.

"Figured that went without saying." Amber sighs in acceptance. At this point, she knows better than to complain about me taking photos. "Just... gimme a sec."

Amber takes in a deep breath, holds it, then let's it all out in a long, soothing hum. She stares up at the rocks and smiles before finishing her beer.

"Wish life could always be this relaxing," she says wistfully.

"'Relaxing?'" I repeat. "Since when do you relax around tourists?"

"Once every never." She laughs. "Dunno. Guess I can just pretend they aren't here. Must be the rocks."

I scan the area and watch a man pose for a photo where the perspective will make it look like he's eating the rocks. "But... they're everywhere. The rocks are really pretty, but how do they change that?"

"Hmmm..." She scratches the top of her hat. "I guess it's like... cohesive. I feel the same way whenever I see rocks people have stacked on hiking trails. They're balanced. And balanced things are... mystical. Vibey? God, I dunno. I probably sound insane, huh?"

"N-No! Not at all!" I join her and stare up at the rocks. "Actually, I think I know what you mean. There's a kind of magic to it."

"Literally the only way I can explain it," she confesses.

"'Vibey,' huh?" I look everything over one more time and decide she's 100% right. "The vibes are good!"

"Very good," she laughs. "Picture time?"

"You know it!" I pump my fist into the air.

We wait for a family of four to finish taking pictures at the first stack, then leap in before anyone else can. I hate to be selfish, but it's like meeting a mascot character. You just have to be pushy about it sometimes.

Somehow, someway, I'm able to coordinate Amber into a nice pose — and believe me, that task is a lot harder than it sounds, because she never smiles and just stands there like a tree. Fortunately, I am the world's foremost Amber Expert, and fanaggle her into getting her hand on her hip and a grin on her face.

I snap several pics on my phone.

"Perfect! Now stay juuuuust like that. Gonna take one on the other camera now." I hold my phone under my chin as I wind the camera for another shot.

"You're using both?" Amber calls out. "Why not just one or the other?"

"Because! I like seeing your pretty face in HD, but the way the photos look when developed is really coooooool!" I sound so whiny, but it's true! I just don't wanna choose.

"I don't get it, but as long as it makes you happy, I guess. Just make sure to send me the ones you take on my phone, got it? I need my Marina fix."

"Oh, stop trying to act so smooth. By the way, you're looking really kissable today."

"Wh-What?"

I snap the photo right as she blushes. Makes me wish this bad boy was digital so I could see how cute she is now. Guess I'll just have to wait until I take it into the pharmacy to get developed.

"Heh heh heh. Gets ya every time."

"Sh-Shut up." She tries to play it off, but I know the truth, Amber. You can't hide your love from me. "Are we gonna take a selfie, or what?"

"You know it! Don't think I'd let you get away without taking at least ten."

I run on over and wiggle in close. Amber likes to pretend she's all bashful and grumpy, but she can't hide her smile when we take pics together. I'm glad me just being around is enough to make her smile sometimes. She needs to give those smiling muscles a workout sometimes and I'm just the exercise for it!

"Say 'Neeeeeevada!'" We both look up at my phone camera and grin. My arm is stretched so far out that it takes me a few tries to tap my thumb against the screen properly, but once I do, the screen flashes. We both huddle around my phone and look at the result.

"You look great," Amber says while gazing at me and not the picture.

"You always say that..."

"'Cause you always look good."

Okay, that one... actually kinda worked...

My heart skips a beat, then skips another one as Amber nuzzles her face to my cheek and softly blows into my ear. Her breath is warm, but it sends shivers from my shoulders down to my thighs.

"Babe, there are people around..."

"Oh yeah? I didn't notice. Good thing the RV is right over there." She leans in to do it again, but I sidestep it.

"Okay, that's enough for now. I wanna take another from a different angle." I turn to the side and decide to just set a timer on my camera this time instead.

Defeated, Amber sighs and drops the subject before posing for the next selfie.

It's not that I don't want her to, or that I don't like it. Actually, I do like it. A lot. {i}A lot{/i} a lot. I always imagined that when I eventually ended up with someone that we would always be mushy and gross when we were around each other — even in public. And I still want that! But now that it's finally happened, I feel like I can only take it so far. I always imagined it with a guy, I guess. But now that I'm with Amber, I'm not sure how to handle it. Sure, we hold hands or kiss sometimes, but not much else. Are we even {i}allowed{/i} to do anything else? Sometimes it feels like we're not.

I wish I could talk to her about this kind of stuff. How to handle it when people stare. Or what to do when they shake their head or roll their eyes. But Amber is so confident that I'm not sure she even notices. Besides, what if she thinks {i}I'm{/i} the one with the problem? It could end up hurting her feelings and causing more trouble than it's worth.

We take a few more selfies, and before the last one, I glance over to the next stack of rocks to see if there's a line. Fortunately for us, there isn't! Just one couple doing the same thing we're doing — taking selfies... kissing... that sort of thing. One of them is wearing a big, floppy sunhat, her long blonde hair flowing out of it and over her pink backpack. She's pretty cute. The other has braided twintails and blue, glittery makeup. She's pretty cute, too.

Cute couple.

...

Wait.

WAIT.

WAIT WAIT WAIT!

"Oh my God. Amber." The words slip out of me. "Look." I point.

She turns her head the wrong way. I grab it and point her to where they're standing.

"Congratz, Mare. You found two other lesbians out in the wild."

"Isn't that {i}crazy???{/i}"

"Is it? I feel like I always end up finding them pretty easily."

The one with the braided twintails enlists the help of a passerby to take the next picture. She grabs her girlfriend's face and just plants her with a long, drawn-out kiss. Her leg goes up in a kicking motion. These girls are so brave, Oh my God.

"Aren't they super cute?" I ask, but it's not really a question. Just an objective fact! I mean, look at them!

"Oh, defini—" she stops herself. "I mean, not as cute as..." Amber looks at me, very cautiously and very concerned. Then looks at the other couple. "A'ight, that blonde one, though."

"Right?" Don't worry, honey. I agree! "Let's go introduce ourselves!"

"Wait, what?"

"Sure! Why not?"

"Not gonna lie, Mare. It's kinda weird to go up to a couple of strangers just because you're both—"

In my head, I can make out exactly where this conversation is going, so I just skip to what I know will be the end result and start running towards them.

"Of course she would. {i}Of course.{/i}" Amber says from behind me. And this is why we're compatible. We can always predict what the other is gonna do!

"Hi! Hello! Hi!" I don't want them to see how out of breath I am as I sprint up to them, so I decide not to breathe at all. "Hope I didn't interrupt anything it's just that I saw you guys from over there and I just couldn't help myself you know how it is hahaha!"

They both stare at me, then at each other.

Oh no. Did I really just do that? Oh God. That's so embarrassing. {i}I can't believe I just did that!{/i}

Amber wanders to my side and places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Hi. I'm Amber, and this is my girlfriend Marina."

She looks at me and then signals at them. Girlfriend code for 'Let's try that again.' Yes! Thanks for the save, babe.

"Sorry about that," I laugh, trying to brush aside how dang awkward I am. "It's just that we—"

Amber clears her throat.

"Well..." I fess up to it. {i}I{/i} just wanted to let you two know how cute you are. And that, uh.... you should keep being cute." Silence. "Okay, I'm done. That's all."

The one with the braided twintails looks at her girlfriend, then giggles. "Thank you," she says in an accent I've only ever heard on TV until now. "You and your girlfriend are very cute as well." Her vowels are rounded, but her R's are strong. It's a little intimidating. I like it.

Amber's eyes go just as wide as mine when she hears her speak. I'm not sure either of us expected her to be hot {i}and{/i} foreign, but that's what we got.

"Hello there. My name is Johanna." The blonde takes off her heart-shaped sunglasses and smiles at us through her dark red lipstick. Her eyes are warm and kind. "This is my partner, Sasha." She also has an accent, but it's softer and not as intense as Sasha's. One of those voices that makes your heart flutter as soon as you hear it.

"Guessing you two aren't local to the area?" Amber asks.

Oh my God, Amber. How can you just ask people that? Isn't it rude to point out someone is foreign? But then, how would you ask where they're from? Do you just not? But what if I really want to know? This is so awkward. {i}I'm{/i} so awkward!

"Or the continent, for that matter." Sasha grins. The glitter on her makeup flakes off her dimples. She's so cool.

"We typically tell people we're from Florida to see their reactions," Johanna pipes in. There's a gentle breeze and her long sundress flows behind her like on the cover of a magazine. She's so gorgeous.

"Haha I would believe anything you told me," I say out loud for some reason, only for it to sound way worse than it did in my head.

Amber doesn't miss a beat though, keeping up the flow of the conversation before there can even be another uncomfortable pause. "So how'd you two meet? Guessing there's a story there."

"Oh, yes!" Johanna's face lights up. She bounces, excited to tell the story, and before I know it, I'm bouncing too, anxious to hear it. "I first met her when I was in Moscow for a photo shoot! She made a very big impact on me, though I'm sure she forgot about me as soon as we were introduced."

"Eh, it's true," Sasha admits. "I was meeting a great many models back then."

"Don't stop there, kjære! Tell them the rest!"

Sasha shrugs. "Well, at some point, I ended up in Oslo filming for, uh..." She snaps her fingers a few times until it comes to her. "... Reality show. Her father was a producer, so she recognized me immediately. Sprung up out of nowhere and spoke as if we had known each other for years."

"In my mind, we had!" Johanna insists.

"Like I said, a great many. However, I did not want to be rude and, well, acted as if I remembered who she was." Sasha scratches the back of her head and blushes.

"And that's how we ended up on our first date."

"I didn't know what her name was until the third one."

"You don't have to mention that part," Johanna says with a smile, but I feel very afraid.

"Я люблю тебя~" Sasha sings.

Johanna kisses her through the air.

"Amber!" I whisper. "They're just like us! Don't you think?"

Amber stares at me blankly. She purses her lips. "That's right, babe." She grins bigger than she usually does. "Just like us."

Glad she agrees!

"How did you two meet?" Sasha asks.

"Oh, well, she picked me up off the side of the road."

"Mare! That makes you sound like a piece of trash someone threw away." Amber turns back to Sasha. "She was hitchhiking."

"That sounds even worse!" I can't deny it, though. That's how it happened. "Still... I'm glad she picked me up. Never thought I'd wind up traveling the country in a motorhome, but it's made my life a lot more interesting than it was before, that's for sure."

Johanna gasps. "You girls too, then?"

'Too?' What do they mean by {i}too{/i}?

Amber raises an eyebrow. Those aviators aren't hiding anything. "Not sure I catch your drift."

"'My drift—?'" Johanna cocks her head.

"An expression," Sasha explains.

"AH! Yes!" She claps her hands together and points them at the parking lot. "Do you see that green van? Waaaaay over there?"

We peer off into the distance. I use our RV as a point of reference, then scan the whole wide area around it. My eyes land on a boxy and retro-looking microbus.

"Hoooooly Christ, is that a Volkswagen?!" Amber raises her voice loud enough for the nearby mom with a stroller to shoot her a dirty look. "What is that? It's a converted Type 2, but is that a seco— no, it's a third. Definitely a third gen. Ah man, she's so well taken care of, too." She starts to stray away, but I grab her shirt sleeve to keep her from wandering off.

"You can tell all of that from here?" I ask.

"You kidding? I live for this kinda stuff." It's not often I get to see her excited. Amber really does have stuff she likes after all. "How the hell did you two manage to swing that?"

"It is on loan from our sponsor. They are a throwback brand. We drive around in the van, wear their clothes, take some pictures, and post the good ones on Insta," Sasha tells us.

"They're {i}ALL{/i} good ones," Johanna insists.

"Perhaps the ones that are just you, yeah?" Sasha flirts. "Not a bad gig, though."

"You're telling me. I'd never give up my motorhome, but man, but I'd sell a couple organs to drive one of those beauts around for a few days."

"Babe, you need those."

"Only the tongue," Sasha says.

They all burst out laughing. Amber laughs especially hard. So hard she snorts! She never lets her guard down that much. I stare down at my feet until it's over. They're having fun, right? So why do I feel so fenced off from it? How come everyone else in the world can say stuff like that and not bat an eyelash, but I can't?

I try to change the subject. "You said you guys have an Insta?"

"Would you like to see?" Johanna asks.

"Totally! Gimme gimme gimme!"

Johanna takes her phone out of her backpack's side pocket, and so help me God, Jesus, and Santa Claus, it has a pair of bunny ears clipped onto it. Bunny ears! Who could've guessed that there was someone out in the world more fem than me?

Amber stretches. "The heck is 'Insta?'"

"Instagram! You upload pics and people can look at them."

Sasha looks genuinely shocked, and can you really blame her. "I assumed everyone was using it now."

"Please excuse her. She's behind the times. By a few decades."

"What can I say? The future ain't all it's cracked up to be."

"Here it is!" Johanna announces.

Amber and I scooch in and look at her phone. Their account name is '1esbih0nest'. My eyes dart over to their profile picture. It's of them kissing... in front of Shiprock.

"Oh hey, we've been there!" Amber points out. "Small world."

"Yes! We started in New York and have been following a schedule from our agency. America has so many interesting and unique places!"

"Although, some of them confuse me. Like this place." Sasha points at one of the pictures in their gallery. It's of the cutest, most adorable giant elephant statue I've ever seen. "What is the purpose of this place?" The location tag says New Jersey. We haven't even had the chance to go to New Jersey yet!

Amber chuckles. "Eh, I like them, but they are kinda pointless. Mostly just there to catch your attention so you spend money."

"Sounds very American," Sasha says.

Annoyed. "Who cares if they're pointless as long as they make people happy." I hear the nastiness in my voice as soon as I say it. Reel it in, girl! Reel it in! "I mean... they make {i}me{/i} happy, at least."

"That's where I'm at, too. I mean, sure, maybe the reason they were built is cynical or whatever, but I'm cool with things existing just for the sake of existing. Why not? Makes the world more interesting."

Thanks, babe. Couldn't have said it better myself. Maybe these places ooze with kitsch, but I love them for that. They're something the two of us can bond over. Still, it does feel like Sasha is calling me out directly. I know it's all in my head and that she's not, but when someone like her says something like that, I can't help but feel frumpy.

Johanna lowers her voice to a whisper. "Sasha is only upset because she thinks these places are bad for our engagement."

"Look at our numbers and tell me that I am wrong!"

"Wait. How many followers do you guys have?" I ask.

I just have to know.

Johanna's smile gets so big I'm afraid she might eat me. "We hit seventy-thousand last week!"

"SEVENTY-THOUSAND?!"

"Is that a lot? Are there even that many people online?" Amber asks.

"Are you kidding me? Yes! Oh my God, yes!"

Johanna hands off her phone to me and I scroll through their gallery. In every photo, at every location, they're either kissing, holding hands, hugging. All the cute and romantic things Amber and I do, they do too. And they send it out to seventy-thousand people without a second thought.

"How did you get so many?" My voice goes hoarse.

Sasha puts an arm around Johanna and pulls her close. "When we announced our partnership, our followings just... merged."

"They've been quite supportive! Although, there were quite a few people jealous of Sasha at first."

"Are you surprised, though? Besides, the block button handles them effectively."

"I'm so happy for you two. It's... great that it's working out so well." I smile even though it's painful to say it. They get to show everyone how happy they are, and they get paid to do it.

"Do you have an Instagram, Mare?"

"Oh, uh... yeah. But I don't really use it for much else than keeping up with friends from school. I think I uploaded something last week when we were in Arizona, but I usually just send pictures to people over text."

"Ah! May I see your account?" Johanna asks.

"Oh, you don't wanna see mine. It's really nothing special. Not like yours."

"Nonsense!" Johanna dances behind me and massages my shoulders, digging into my sore muscles with her fingers. "It's only fair after showing ours."

Amber grabs my hand and eases me towards her. Johanna's hand falls away. "Only if you feel wanna, babe."

I'm not sure I {i}want to{/i}. Actually, I think it would be more than a little bit embarrassing at this point. There's no way my dinky account with 18 followers can shape up to theirs. Which is weird! This kind of stuff never bothered me before. Sasha and Johanna are gushy and happy together. They're proud and open about it. Amber and I could be that way. I know we could. Am I missing something? It feels like I am.

"What the hey? It couldn't hurt! Maybe you girls could teach me a thing or two."

I punch in my username on her phone and bring up my profile. Johanna leans over my shoulder and taps the follow button. My number of followers goes up to 19. I pass it off to Johanna and hum a tune in my head to distract myself while she scrubs through my life from middle school up until now.

"This is your personal account, Marina? Not your professional one?"

"No, nothing like that. Just... plain old me." The longer she stares at it, the sadder I feel. I try to be positive and laugh. "Like I said, it's nothing special."

"I see."

The three of us watch her until Sasha gets bored and pulls out her own phone. All her notifications go off at once. I hear the Twitter chirp, the iOS swoop, the Snapchat ding. Would bet all of our gold that she has every app in the world on her phone. Amber looks at me with a raised eyebrow, like she's waiting for me to explain what's happening. This must be so weird for her. Most of the stuff we're talking about is probably flying way over her head.

A motorcycle pulls out of the parking lot. Its engine sounds like it's exploding as it races down the road.

Johanna breaks the silence. "Marina, I have a question."

"Y-Yes?"

'{i}Everything{/i}.' That's the amount of stuff I'm doing wrong, huh? All of it. Of course a professional influencer would have a lot to say about us.

"Do you not own a selfie stick?"

"... What?"

This must be how far ahead of me she is. I couldn't even predict her questions.

"All of your pictures. It looks like you're taking them yourself. They're sometimes blurry."

"Oh. No... I guess I don't then. I know what they are! But I guess buying one has never crossed my mind. Oops."

"Okay!" Johanna clasps her hands together. "Let's fix that then!"

"You are going to run out of them soon if you keep doing this, you know." Sasha scolds.

Johanna hushes her and reaches into her backpack. She pulls out a small, rose-colored rod."

"Problem solved! Consider it a gift."

Amber grabs it by the strap and dangles it. "What's this? Some kinda staff?"

I lean in and whisper so she doesn't get embarrassed. "That's a selfie stick, baby."

"Our sponsor sent us an entire box of them. She has been handing them out like candy this entire trip."

"I still have three left, too!"

I always liked my pictures. I thought they were cute, and I could always revisit the fuzzy moments with Amber whenever I wanted. But in comparison to theirs, mine probably look like they were taken by a kid.

"Does this mean I finally get more selfies of you?" Amber asks.

"It means there's going to be even more selfies of the {i}two of us{/i}."

"Can't wait."

This is a gift. I should be excited and jumping around. Telling Amber how cool it is and how I want to test it out pronto. That's what I would usually do, but I can't muster up the energy to do any of that. What's wrong with me?

"Thanks, you two. This is really nice," I tell them and myself. "I know we'll get a lot of use out of it."

"Why not start now?" Sasha suggests.

"Oh, yes!" Johanna jumps on it without a second thought. "We could upload several pics to our account, as well as several pics to yours! It will be like... a collab!" She's already shaping her fingers into a square and framing the rocks.

Amber cringes. "Can I opt out, or..."

"Come on, babe. Don't be a party-pooper." I squeeze her hand. "It'll be fun."

She stares at me like I have something on my face. It's a weird look. Not a glare, or annoyed resignation like she usually has when we take surprise pictures. "You sure about that?"

My smile drops. She saw right through me. I feel numb. It's like I'm staring at myself outside of my own body. Before I can answer, Sasha swoops in and traps us under both of her arms.

"Of course! Two beautiful couples together? Our followers will love it. Perhaps our sponsor will even reach out as well. No downsides!"

"Sasha's right! How often do we meet other couples? Like, never?"

The glitter from Sasha's makeup floats onto Amber's shoulder. I can see her mouth a little prayer to herself, before taking in a deep breath.

Amber gives a strained chuckle. "Alright then. Let's make it one for the scrapbooks."

Oh. She hates this. When it comes to meeting new people and being a social butterfly, Amber has gotten a lot better, but pictures still bring out her inner grumpy four-year old. Still, if this was the Amber I first met, I think she would have straight up refused. She's really making an effort. Even if it's strained and she's not good at hiding it, she's still trying. And if she is, I should too.

"Hope you girls are ready for your likes to go through the roof!" I whip the selfie stick downwards, pushing out the rest of the rod until it's longer than both of my arms put together. "Just... lemme figure out how this works first."

XXX

A faded half-moon hangs in the sky, barely visible under the layer of brown dust floating around us. The crowd has been thinning out little-by-little. Johanna looks back to wave at us as they walk to the parking lot. Sasha just tosses her hand up and doesn't so much as glance over her shoulder. We're one of the few people left by the rocks at this point.

Amber lets out a deep sigh of relief as her shoulders slouch over. "Cute girls, but that was exhausting."

I swipe to the last picture we took with them. "Uh-huh..."

"We should probably start heading out. There's probably a KOA around here we can stay at for the night."

"Sure just gimme a sec."

She peeks over my shoulder. "Whatcha looking at?"

"Just some of the pictures Johanna took. Those two really know what they're doing. Makes me a lil' jealous. Heh."

"Well, if that's what they do for a living, it doesn't surprise me they're that good." The next part is more to herself than to me, I think. "You'd think the enthusiasm would've died down after a certain point though."

I stare at the picture. It's simple. Just our four faces crowding the screen. But there's so much about it to pick apart. Their teeth are perfect. Mine are crooked. Should have worn my retainer more after I got my braces off. Their faces are so thin. Mine is round and puffy. Probably from all the diner food we eat. And would it kill Amber to do something — anything — than her awkward half-smile that she has done for literally every picture we have ever taken. A picture is worth a thousand words, but I think this one might be worth a million.

"Hey." Amber steps in front of me and squats to look at me through the space between me and my phone. "Did something happen? You were all sunshine and rainbows when you first ran up to them, but then got really quiet afterwards. Seemed like you were kinda uncomfortable."

Of course I'm uncomfortable, Amber! There's tons of reasons I'm uncomfortable. How are you {i}not{/i} uncomfortable?

"Nah, I'm fine." Liar. "Meeting them just made me rethink a few things."

"Sounds ominous. Should I get down on my knees and beg you not to leave?"

"Not like that, silly. Just stuff that was already on my mind."

"Gotcha." She strokes my hair behind my ear. "Just lemme know if there's anything I can do for ya."

"Actually..." It's a little selfish, but I'm gonna go for it. "There are some outlets nearby, right?"

"Yeah, not too far from here. Why? You wanna go?"

"You guessed it!"

"Fine by me. I wanna pick something out for movie night, anyway."

Amber and I haven't had the conversation about streaming services yet. She still uses a VCR, and the only reason she got a DVD player was because she found it for real cheap at a thrift store. One step at a time.

"And then one more thing..."

"Anything for you, Mare. I'm a helper. A supporter. Anything you want, I'm gonna do. Love you."

"Overcorrecting, babe."

"Am I?"

"Just a teeny bit."

"Right." She pulls her hat over her eyes and coughs. "What can I do for ya?"

"If it's not a big deal — and only if you're fine with it! Would you... maybe wanna come back here tomorrow?"

Now the reservation starts to hit. "Uhhh... Well, we don't have any plans, so I guess I don't mind." She squirms. "Can I ask why, though?"

I swipe my thumb over my screen and take one last look at Johanna and Sasha's account. 1esbiah0nest is such a good name. Wish I would've thought of it.

"No reason, really. I just wanna be like the Instagram gays."

XXX

"Hey babe!" Amber calls out. "Could you make the popcorn? I'm having trouble setting up the TV."

"Sure! Jussasec!"

I finish laying out all our new clothes on the bed and wipe the sweat off my forehead. Amber is in the front of the RV messing with that insanely heavy and old TV she always lugs out for our movie nights.

The outlet mall was gigantic. Way bigger than the one we had to drive 45 minutes in order to get to when I was growing up. Any other time, I would have made Amber get me one thing from everywhere in the food court, but I was on a mission. The first place we went was a store that sold CDs, DVDs, and a bunch of other stuff that Amber loves. It's going out of business, so she was able to get a big discount on everything, but I still felt bad leaving her there when I went off to do my own thing. Even though we're always together, there are times where she seems so lonely and out of place. Like a time traveler who can't go back. I would have stayed with her, but shops were going to close soon, so I had to get to work.

I think it was worth it, too. For only the second or third time in my life, I shopped for clothes with my own money. Not the allowance my parents gave me. Or money that Amber fronted for me because the rest of my clothes were in the suitcase in my car when it got stolen. I haven't been on my own for that long now, so I still have a lot of moments where I'm like, 'Wow! I'm an adult!'

The clothes I picked out were pretty cute, if I do say so myself. They had to be if we ever want to be anything like Sasha and Johanna. That's why I didn't just get stuff for me, but for Amber too. So for every cute sundress and hat I got (Johanna isn't the only one who can pull them off!), I also found some cute band tees and jean shorts. Stuff I think Amber would wear if she tried a little harder. It took everything I had not to buy her bright polos and cute animal-print button-ups.

Now all I have to do is get her to wear them. My next big mission, and also easier said than done.

"That should do it." Amber dusts off her hands. "TV is on and turned to channel 3. Now all we gotta do is pick a tape."

"My dear madam, could you please inform me of the cinema's film selection on this fine evening?" I join her out in the front of the RV and reach out my hand. She takes it and gives me a twirl before I fall into her arms.

"Well of course, my dear sir. Tonight we are offering viewings of two modern retellings of the classic Romeo and Juliet tale: {i}Westside Story{/i} and—" Amber leans over to the couch to grab the cover. She drops the snobby voice. "Romeo + Juliet."

"The one with baby Leo?"

"Guess so." She takes a long look at the clamshell case. "Something about his face bothers me. Can we just go with West Side Story?"

"Yeah! I love musicals! My mom used to sit us down to watch the Sound of Music all the time, and— well, I'm pretty sure I always ended up falling asleep, but I remember at least one of the songs!"

"I can't think of a more universal and American experience."

"How about a movie date with a cute girl?"

"That's pretty good. Only thing that could beat it would be a movie date with a cute girl — and popcorn."

"Alright, alright. I'm on it. Just hold your horses." I walk over to the cabinet and grab a bag of microwave popcorn. "No butter and salt tonight, okay?"

"Huh? And why the heck not? It's basically just dried corn without it."

I toss it in the microwave and push the popcorn button. Maybe now is the right time to bring it up.

"We eat at a diner, like, every day. We're practically inhaling the stuff, y'know?"

Amber cups her hand around her ear like she's an old lady. "Sorry, I don't think I heard you right. Did you just say that you — {i}you{/i} — the Princess of Preservatives, thinks we should cut down on the junk food? You just ate a whole bag of candy yesterday."

The first kernel of corn pops. I brace myself and take a deep, calming breath. Here goes nothing.

“I know, but I’ve been thinking — it might be nice to make some… well, lifestyle changes!”

Amber stares back at me with a look as flat as paper.

“I’m just saying! It might not be a bad idea if we took better care of ourselves.

A few more kernels. {i}Pop! Pop! Pop!{/i}

“{i}Lifestyle changes…{/i}” She chuckles while squeezing her forehead. “Alright then, what did you have in mind?”

“Glad you asked!” I rush to our room and scoop up the pile of clothes, then hustle back out, dropping a shirt or a sock here and there. “I was thinking we could start with these!”

Amber looks at my arms. I wait for her to say something snarky, but she doesn’t, and instead she just waits patiently.

{i}Pop! Pop! Pop!{/i} The bag starts to expand in the microwave.

“Some of them are really cute, dontcha think?”

Her face softens a little. “Yeah.” She smiles. “I can’t wait to see you in them.”

“Well, that’s the thing… They’re not all just for me.”

"For me?"

I nod. Slowly. So I can get a good read on her. See where she's at.

"Mare, I really didn't—" She stops herself. I catch her pinching the skin of her hand. "Thank you... I appreciate that..." Like with my nodding, her words are slow. They feel planned. "But is there something wrong with the clothes I have now?"

My knee starts bouncing and I whine. This is going to be one of those difficult conversations, isn't it? But we need to communicate! {i}COM-MU-NI-CATE!{/i}

"It's the bucket hat, isn't it?"

"What? No! No. I love the bucket hat. Don't get rid of the bucket hat. It's just that..." I want to tell her that it would be {i}so easy{/i} to be like Sasha and Johanna if we made a few tweeks. But that would be shallow. I know it would be. "You pretty much wear the same thing every day, so you don't have a lot going on. There's so much more you could be doing, Amber. And I know that you can do them. Because you're you!"

"Exactly! I'm {i}me{/i}. Are there things I can change? Yeah, sure. Always. And I try. For you. But this?" She circles her hand around herself. "This is who I am, and I thought you liked that."

"I do! I like {i}you{/i}. But at least take a look before you shut me down." I sift through the pile in my arms and dig out a black shirt, letting the rest fall to the floor. "You like old bands, right? Then how about this Led Zeppelin shirt? You would look great in it! It would even work with those khakis you like."

"Gotta say, I'm starting to feel a little ignored here. If you wanna shop for clothes, then let's do it together. Don't just go and do it for me."

The only sound is the humming of the microwave.

{i}Pop!{/i}

I take my eyes off her and look at the TV on the floor. "You would say no if I brought it up."

Amber sighs. "Look." She steps closer and takes my hand. "I know I've had my moments, and I'm sure I'll have them again, so I get why you would think that. But believe me, babe, I'm really trying here. You just need to give me the opportunity to follow through before writing me off like that, though."

I point at the pile of clothes on the ground. "Here it is."

"In a way that respects me. This is about the two of us, so don't you care what I think?"

"Don't {i}you{/} wanna be cute?"

The microwave timer goes off. A few more kernels pop. Then nothing.

"Do you not think I'm...?"

Her hand falls away and I immediately regret saying it. She falls against the couch and combs the sweat off her forehead and into her hair.

"I am so sorry. There's absolutely no reason I should—"

"No, you're good. Don't apologize." She swallows something in her throat. "I get it. You've been cute and put together since the day we met. Of course you would wanna be with someone who could match that." She smiles like a wounded knight who swears they're okay. "It was stupid of me to think I was fine this way."

I want so badly to take it back and let her know that she's perfect the way she is. But I know, once you say something, it can never be unsaid. All I want is for people to take me and Amber seriously when they see us together. Like they do with Sasha and Johanna. I never wanted to hurt her.

But this is what I wanted, right? For her to come around to my idea. Even if she's totally offbase about my logic, isn't that what's happening here?

Is it okay to let this happen?

"Can you, uh, dish up the popcorn?" Amber climbs off the couch and tinkers with the VCR. "I need to rewind the tape."

"Oh, yeah. Sure."

She stares at the TV static. The tape makes a whirling sound as it rewinds.

Has she already moved on? Is this fine? I don't like the idea of leaving this up in the air if she's hurting, but maybe it's something better for her to process alone. And maybe I've done enough already.

I open the microwave door, then turn around. "I love you."

"I know you do. Love ya too."

In the end, I decide to use salt and butter anyway.

XXX

My eyes strain in my phone’s blue light. The shadowy corners of our room, the ones that usually scare me if I stare at them for too long, are lit up like the far edges of a park after sunset. I look over to make sure I’m not disturbing Amber. She’s rolled over on her side, facing the wall and huddled up like a fetus. Guess she kicked the blankets off a while ago.

I scroll through my photo gallery and swipe through all the pictures I took with Amber today, deleting the ones where I’m not smiling right, or where it’s obvious I’m drenched in sweat, or where my belly is sticking to my shirt.

In the end, I trash every picture except for the one with Sasha and Johanna.

It’s as if just by them being there they made everything around them better! I don’t look like some doofy kid in a yearbook photo, and even though I know it was a strained smile, Amber actually looks happy.

A happy couple. That people can respect. That’s what I want.

I bring up Insta and go through my feed. Sasha and Johanna ended up posting a whole slew of pics today. Looks like they even went to a campground somewhere and set up a tent that has cute pink and yellow fairy lights draped around it.

There’s a picture of Johanna holding a seltzer in front of the full moon and the stars around her have been edited to look like they’re swirling in a time-lapse. It’s beautiful, and iconic, and romantic. The hundreds and hundreds of likes and loving comments let them know it is, too.

The longer I stare at it, the more I want it. I want to present like that. For people to see me and Amber and want the best for us. It feels like the only way to get that is to try super hard. To be pleasing and support stylish brands. It’s how you become adored, and I think the horrible, terrible truth is that being adored is the only way to get respect.

They posted the picture they took with us, too. With tons of filters and adjustments to the lighting, of course. It feels like it got lost in the shuffle, though. Between the dozens of other things they uploaded today. My account got tagged in a comment that I’m guessing Johanna typed, but I didn’t see much engagement over it. Just a guy named ‘BlackpilledChampion’ who went through my entire account and liked every single picture I’ve ever uploaded. I blocked him.

Every single part of this makes me want to cry — and then I want to cry over how it’s so stupid that I want to cry over this!

“Hey.” Amber whispers. “You awake?”

I fumble my phone and turn the screen off. “A-Ah, sorry. Hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Wasn’t doing much sleeping, anyway.”

Of course not. How would she after I said such ugly things to her earlier? It wasn’t about her this time, though. Not really. It’s just too embarrassing to admit the truth to her. The whole thing is childish and dumb. Amber would think so, too. I know she would.

So instead of talking about it, we just watched the movie in silence. Never cuddling or laughing. Just watched, scarfed down the popcorn, then went straight to bed.

“About earlier. With the clothes. These uh… lifestyle changes.” Her voice is a whisper, like she’s afraid of waking up some invisible person.

I’m scared to answer. Scared that I’ll hurt her again. I do it anyway. “What about?”

“Is it important to you? Does it matter to you {i}that{/i} much?”

She hasn’t turned over to face me. She’s still on her side. I wish I could see her face. If I could, then maybe I’d be more honest.

I lay there for a long time, thinking about what to say. How to say it. Whether it should even be said. In my heart, I know it’s not. That it’s just some petty, shallow thing. And yet…

“Yeah. It does.”

She doesn’t say anything. Is she angry? Sad? I look over, but all I see are her pale shoulders easing up and down. For such a clammed up and closed off person, I always thought it was weird that she wears tank-tops to bed. It makes her look vulnerable.

“Alright.” Finally, she answers. “Thank you for telling me.”

Amber slides under the covers and brings her knees to her chest.

I stare at the ceiling, watching the small light from my phone charger blink green.

It’s so unfair. Here I am, taking up more than half of the entire bed, and all she gets is a small corner.

XXX

Just like she promised, Amber drives us to the Seven Magic Mountains after she has her first cup of coffee.

It's a quiet morning. She gives me the usual 'Good morning, sunshine' and I give her the usual kiss on the cheek, but other than that, we don't talk much. Once we get on the road, I pretend to go back to sleep and just stay in bed.

After we've been parked for ten minutes, I roll out of bed and onto the floor, bringing all the sheets and covers with me on the way down.

{i}Thump.{/i}

I lay there and try not to cry.

I'm a bad girlfriend. That dumb newspaper article is bad. My pictures are bad. Instagram is bad. Everything is bad, and all I can do to make anything better are things that are equally bad. Like hurt Amber.

Wobbling to my feet, I lift the blinds to check out the window. Doesn't look like many other people are here yet. Just a handful of cars. We must have gotten here too early. Figures. I'll have gone through all this trouble and nobody will end up seeing it.

Whatever. I deserve to be humiliated. All I can do is be jealous and shallow. About stuff I don't even care about, too!

Let's just get this over with.

I pick out an outfit from the pile of new clothes in the corner: a pair of bell-bottoms, sandals, and a knit top. The kind of stuff I saw people wear at the music festival when me and Amber went.

"Gonna get ready," I tell Amber as I step into the bathroom.

"Sure. I'll take the bedroom," Amber says.

We both slide our doors shut at the same time.

I stand there and look at my wild bedhead in the mirror. What a mess.

Then, I sigh and get my makeup out of the medicine cabinet.

XXX

There's a breeze when I step out of the RV. "Meet you outside, babe!"

"Uh-huh!" Amber answers. Her voice is muffled behind the RV wall.

The air is fresh, and I draw in a deep breath to take in the briskness of morning before it starts to get hot. Before long, the sun will cook us alive, and I'll be the first one to melt. I slip on Amber's aviators and wait in the dirt. A crow swoops in and pokes at a cup someone left in the parking lot.

Either because I'm bored or because it's a habit, I take out my phone and look at my reflection in the screen. It's hard to see myself with the sunglasses on, so I bring up the camera for a better look.

This boho look is all new to me, but I guess I feel kinda cute.

I take a few selfies.

A peace sign: childish.

From my good side: not so good anymore.

Far-off look: tryhard.

None of these are any good. None of them at all. Just yesterday I was taking pictures and not giving a crap about how they look, but now it's like the most important thing in the world? How was I ever able to not care what people think? Looking perfect is the only way they'll ever support you, or accept you. Even if it's not real and all staged for likes and comments. I like who I am. I love who Amber is. But nobody will ever accept us being together if we don't look the part. It's why there has to be a change.

This is just sad. I'm a sad person. What does Amber even see in me?

Footsteps come from the RV. I turn and see a shadow behind the screen door.

"I'm coming out! But don't make fun of me, ya hear?" Amber says.

"Don't be silly. Why would I make fun of—"

She opens the door and I stop talking. Not sure if I'll ever talk again.

Amber lifts her white dress as she climbs out of the RV. Her laced up black boots squeak against the steps. The gold bracelets I wear sometimes jingle at her wrist, and the sunhat I bought yesterday slips down her forehead. She tips it back up like a cowgirl.

"Well, what do ya think?"

She takes delicate steps, walking with dignified posture instead of her usual hunched over strut. In the entire time I've known her, she's only ever used vaseline for chapped lips, but when she stops to face me, I notice the glossy red sheen of lipstick. Her hair is curled down to her shoulders. Fake lashes flutter when she blinks.

She's either blushing or wearing blush. "Don't just stand there, geez..." Amber flashes a smile that doesn't touch her eyes. "How do I look?"

I gulp. "Not like Amber." My voice shakes.

"Isn't that... a good thing?"

I... I..."

It was supposed to be, wasn't it? Selfish and petty, but still ultimately worth it. So why doesn't it feel that way? Amber is beautiful. She's always beautiful, but she did herself up like this for me. Despite me trying to bend us both into pretzels and hurting her, she still did it for me anyway. I feel so ugly. All I want is to be with Amber, and to be happy with Amber, but there's always an entire world of things distracting me and saying that what I want is something else.

Why can't I be content with being content?

"I-I'm sorry."

I choke and my sunglasses fog up. Amber pulls me into a hug before the first tear even slips out.

"I'm so sorry, Amber!" I sob into her shoulder "You shouldn't have to do this. I'm sorry for making you do this..."

"We're okay, we're okay..." She whispers while petting my head. "Let's bring this inside, alright?"

I nod.

She leads me back into the RV and sits me on the couch. When I'm settled in, she gets a water bottle from the fridge and unscrews the cap for me. I manage to chug the whole thing while crying. Amber takes the sunglasses off my face and thumbs away the tears. I can see my eyeliner smeared against her thumb.

"I looked that bad, huh?" She teases.

I pretend-slap her shoulder and laugh through my clogged nostrils. “You look gorgeous, dummy. The problem isn’t you.”

“Um…” Amber adjusts her dress and crosses her legs. “Are you sure about that? Because it kinda feels like I am. I mean, I {i}usually{/i} am. And after last night, I figured I might just be up on my bullshit again, so…” Her voice trails off. She hangs her head and sighs, “I just wanna do right by you, Mare. I know I don’t always, so If that means I have to figure out how to do things better, then I’ll do it. Because I love you. And junk.”

Being honest about her feelings is something Amber has never been all that good at. The words are slow to come out. She has trouble keeping eye contact. When we first started dating, she would sometimes even get so frustrated that she would yell or cry. Now, she can work through the hurt or embarrassment and say what she means. I’m so proud of her for that.

Which is why it’s so frustrating that it’s being wasted on this — some stupid problem I’m passing off on her and how she looks, and not the actual issue. Amber is growing up and maturing all the time. What am I doing right now other than going backwards?

“Hearing you say all that makes me {i}so{/i] happy. Like, more than you know.” My tears catch back up with the rest of my emotions. I blow into a tissue and it sounds like a broken kazoo. Ugh, I’m so gross. “But I don’t deserve it! Not this time.”

I choke back more sobs while Amber looks more and more worried. This is all making her feel worse, isn’t it? It must look like I’m trying to trick her or something. God, I can’t even cry right.

“Now why would you say something that dumb? You’re my sunshine. You deserve everything. Better than you’ve got with me, at least.”

“Stop talking like that! You can’t just blame yourself every time I cry and say I’m better off without you! It hurts me when you say things like that.”

“But last night—“

“I know what I said last night! It was mean and cruel, and I said it to hurt you, Amber!”

There it is. I said it. Now she knows how terrible I am.

Amber stares straight ahead. She looks confused, like she’s doing long division in her head. The sun gleams through the windows, and the air in the RV feels hotter than any of the deserts we’ve ever been in. Sweat slides down my face and mixes with the tears. I’m not sure which is which.

“But why?” Amber asks after a long time.

I huddle into a ball and turn on my side so I don’t have to look at her.

“For real? You said you hurt me. Can’t you even tell me why?”

I grunt and bury my face into the couch.

“Mariiiiina. Hello, anyone there?”

My voice is muffled and I can taste the fabric when I speak. “Nobody’s home!”

This is my last shred of dignity. If I give in here, Amber will laugh. She’ll call me a kid. Tease me. Or even worse, she won’t understand at all. That’s what I’m most afraid of.

“Damn. That’s a shame. I was planning on giving the resident of this address a forehead kiss.”

I peek out from my ball of shame. “Really?”

“Yep. Now come here.”

Amber grabs my waist and through sheer strength drags me and my deadweight across the couch. Her lips press against my forehead, and I start to think that maybe she put medicine on them instead of lipstick, because I’m already feeling a little better.

She lets my weight topple us over, still holding me as we fall back on the couch. Her arms are locked around me like a secure seatbelt.

“Tell me?”

“You won’t laugh at me? Or call me stupid?”

“Depends. Whatcha got?”

“Amber!”

“I won’t, I won’t.” She chuckles, then kisses my exposed shoulder. “We’re past that.”

Being comforted by Amber like this feels weird. Usually it's the other way around. She tries so hard to be all cool and mature so that she can be someone I can rely on, but she always gets too in her head and makes these assumptions about us that are entirely off base. Then I end up having to fix it. To tell her that she's not broken, or how she hurt my feelings. But this time, she's listening to me. She's reaching out. Not because I had to beg or tell her I'm upset, but because she actually wants to know. Because she cares. And as I lay against her soft dress and feel the warmth of her breath on the back of my neck, I feel like Amber is succeeding at being the person she wants to be. At being my rock.

"It's because I felt insecure. There." I hate admitting it. It feels like venom climbing up my throat.

"Ohhhh, I think I get it now. It's those girls we met yesterday?"

"Huh? You knew?"

"Wouldn't say {i}knew{/i}, but I had a hunch. They {i}were{/i} pretty intimidating."

"In a hot way!"

"Okay yeah they were pretty hot, but I mean... so are you."

"You're just biased."

"Hell yeah I am! I'm your girlfriend!" She squeezes tighter and shakes me, and yes, I do feel cherished, thank you very much. "C'mon, Mare. I know you. This can't all just be about looks and — ugh —'{i}Instagram followers{/i}."

"It totally is! Did you even see their account? All they need to do is upload a pic of them kissing and there'll be hundreds of comments spamming the rainbow emoji and saying how cute they look. People are happy for them. Not everyone has that." What would happen if I logged into my old Facebook account and posted something of me and Amber? Just sent it out to all the people I grew up with, all my extended family, and every teacher I've had since kindergarten. It wouldn't be the same for us. I know it wouldn't. "I thought that maybe we could make the same thing happen for us. That if we looked all trendy and got a sponsor, then maybe it wouldn't be so hard. I wouldn't have to worry about what anyone thinks, because it would prove that the two of us being together has value." I sniff, then hide it with a laugh. "Pretty messed up, huh?"

"Mare, what the two of us have is already plenty valuable. Who cares what other people think? We make each other happy. That's what matters."

"I know that! But it's not easy, Amber! You know exactly who you are, but this is all new to me. For my entire life, I was {i}one way{/i} and everyone else thought I was that way, too. Then I met you and suddenly I wasn't that way anymore!"

"'Suddenly?'" Amber says, totally unconvinced.

I think about my Eighth grade English class. In the first semester, I sat next to Matthew Hansen. He had blue eyes and freckles, and was super dreamy. In the second semester, the seating chart was rearranged and I set next to Hansel Gordon. She dyed her hair black and wore green lipstick, and because I could never stop looking at her I ended up with a C in that class. The next year, I didn't have classes with either of them and was lowkey devastated.

“Okay, maybe I kinda knew, but I tried not to think about it. Once me and you started getting closer, though…” I glance over at the article clipped to our fridge, the body of text framing the picture of me and Amber shaking hands. More tears sting my eyes, but I hold them back. I can’t let it have this much power over me. “It’s not like I could keep denying it! I wanna be happy with who I am, and I want people to know how happy the two of {i}us{/i} are. But I can’t. Because now I don’t how people are going to react, and if they’re anything like that stupid newspaper article, they might just ignore it all together!”

“And you think people would be more supportive if you posted photos of us online?” Amber asks. It’s strange hearing her trying to talk about the internet. She gets slower, more hesitant. Even if she does stay away from it out of plain old stubbornness, none of this stuff comes naturally to her.

“Maybe not everyone, but enough. That way I can always be surrounded by a little bit of positivity. Even if strangers don’t like me. Or if friends or family stop loving me because of it.”

Amber squeezes me tighter. “It’s rough, isn’t it?”

“It is. And I don’t know how to make it easier.” It hurts to admit, but I know that even if we did copy Sasha and Johanna, things would still be hard. I would feel empty, or hurt Amber, or we’d end up hurting each other. “You must think I’m so annoying. Here I am flipping out over something you’ve been doing everyday for years. Something that’s so natural and easy for you. When am I going to be like that?”

“When did I ever say it was easy, dork?” She pinches my cheek and stretches it so far that the side of my mouth feels like a suction cup.

“Hoh? Bustch yo nahver shaid anyshing tho me!” {i}(Huh? But you never said anything to me!){/i}

“‘Cause I’ve been dealing with it a little longer than you, that’s all. All the crappy stuff I’ve been through is just part of who I am now. Doesn’t mean it’s been easy, just that…” Amber let’s go of my cheek and sighs. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

I turn over. Underneath all that makeup, she still looks like Amber. She still looks tired. Since the day we met she’s looked that way. I always thought it was because of the coffee and all the driving, but hobbies and quirks don’t make the person. They sprout up from who that person is and what they’ve experienced. There’s a reason Amber is the way she is.

“Can you tell me about it?” I ask.

She chews on her lip and takes a while to answer. “Nothing much to tell. You know about Gramps and how I grew up in this RV. I told you about my Ma’, right?”

“Just that you two don’t get along and haven’t talked in a while. It makes me sad. Me and my mom argue sometimes, but I know she loves me and that I can always trust her.”

“Not everyone gets to win the family lottery, Mare. Sometimes the people you wind up with are a drama-trauma whirlwind. Fun stuff.”

“Not Gramp though, right?” I never got the chance to meet him, but we talk about him so often that it feels like I did. There are times where I can see glimpses of the person he might’ve been in Amber, and it makes me glad, because it lets me know that before I waltzed into her life, she was loved. He may be gone, but as long as I’m with Amber, Gramps will be my grandpa too.

“No, not that geezer.” She smiles, but doesn’t laugh. “Everything good in my life I owe to him. When Ma’ did her first stint in county he made sure I had a home. They hadn’t talked in years, but he wasn’t going to let me bounce in and out of the system. He showed more love in that one action than that woman could ever hope to express in her entire miserable life.”

“So that’s how he ended up adopting you…” It makes sense, but I didn’t expect her mom to have done time in prison. That’s what I call scary. Amber’s life has been so different from mine. I had eleven people I knew loved me. Amber only had one.

“Yup. More needles in her arm than brain cels in her head. Still, Gramps made sure we kept in touch. He would’ve never fessed up to it, but deep down I think all he wanted was for us to be a family. So, we would track her down and visit her in the RV a couple times a year. A new boyfriend’s place for Christmas, then a shelter in the next state over for Easter. When we finally put down roots in Grand Junction, he would fly her out here for Thanksgivings and birthdays, things like that.”

We’re close enough together that our hair sticks to each other’s foreheads. Amber’s skin is slick, and I sweat rolls down the back of my neck. The windows have fogged over like the door to a sauna.

“Did you two used to get along?” I ask, already knowing the answer. This story can only have one ending, and it makes me sick to my stomach knowing what it probably is. But I want to know, and I want to hear it from her.

“It was awkward. Kinda cold. Sometime she would get it in her head that she needed to make an effort, but to me she was just a sad lady I was forced to see every couple months.” Amber strokes my hair back and combs it out of my eyes. “Tried to meet her halfway when I got older, but that all went out the window when I turned 16. Thought she might want to meet the girl I was dating at the time. Guess I thought wrong.”

A cold chill runs up my back as a drip of sweat runs down it. My worst fear and Amber went through it.

“That’s not fair.” I squeeze Amber tighter and push away any possibility of ever letting go. “How can the most important people in your life just decide that? They tell you they love you every day from the time you’re a baby and then one day… they just… they just don’t?”

“People are complicated, Mare. They’re afraid. All they have is their culture and what they know. How they see themselves is all wrapped up in that, and it makes things even messier. They’ll find a million different ways to hurt you.”

“What if you make them like you before they hurt you? That’s what Sasha and Johanna do. I don’t want to be hurt…”

“I know you don’t. And if I could, I would do anything to make sure you never had to.” Amber’s voice breaks. Her eyes are damp. She keeps it together, though. That’s my rock. “But there’s no stopping pain. You’ll be dealing with a lot more of it now, and it’ll be because of who you are.”

I don’t know how to answer. I just stare down, looking at the space between me and Amber on the couch. At the old, stained fabric. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m bitter. Why does the world make me feel things?

“It’s not all just pain, though. I promise.”

“What else? ‘Cause everything you talked about sounds pretty painful to me,” I mumble.

“Well, there’s uh…” Amber clears her throat. “There’s love.”

When I look up, Amber is as red as a tomato and about as sweaty as one too. I don’t think it’s all just because of the heat, either.

“I was slapped around. Told every terrible thing I had ever thought about myself was true. I was wounded, but I wasn’t alone. Gramps scooped me up and made sure I knew I was loved. And I guess that’s what I’m getting at. You can try to soothe it all you want by seeking approval, but all you’re doing is selling them a version of yourself that they’re comfortable with. It’s not real. But you know what is real?”

I slowly shake my head, only wanting to hear Amber keep talking. When did she get so honest about herself?

“{i}You.{/i} You’re real. The Marina who’s with me right here, right now. The way she see’s the good in everyone. How she devotes herself to the people she cares about. Her smile. All of that? That’s real. I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks or wants, because I love her for who she is, not the Internet starlet she could be. And I won’t shut up until she feels the same way.”

“Wh-Whoa.” I squeak.

“What?”

“I was just thinking that it’s really cool how you said all that with a straight face.”

Amber stops. Without saying a single word, she takes her hat off and slides it over her face.

“Wait, no! I mean it! Honesty is sexy!”

“God, will you stop it! I was doing fine until you pointed it out!”

I sit up in the couch, then crawl on top of her and take off her hat.

“Hey!’ I say.

She looks away.

“Did you mean all that?”

“‘Don’t make me regret saying it.”

“Oh my God, she totally loves me.” I swoop in and hug her around the neck. “Thank you for reminding me,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for taking all this out on you. It’s just— Sometimes— I’ve never really— This is all new— And—“

“Water under the bridge, dummy.” She softens up and reels me in with a hug of her own. “I know you’re not used to this yet, but me and you will take it step-by-step, okay? And if you really do wanna make some — ah hell, what did you call it, uh — {i}i}lifestyle changed{/i}, then I—“

“Forget I ever said that!” I rush it out real quick before she can finish. “So what if we eat at too many diners? I’ll do some justice to a thousand Moons Over My Hammies as long as it’s with you. I love our life together, and I don’t want it to just be a hashtag. I want it to be ours.”

…

“Is ‘hashtag’ the pound sign?” Amber asks.

“It’s the pound sign,” I answer.

“Okay, that makes a lot of things {i}so much{/i} clearer. Don’t get why they can’t just call it a pound sign, though. Seems dumb.”

How could I have ever thought trying to be like Sasha and Johanna was the way to go. I could tell people my girlfriend is a time traveler and be just as successful.”

Amber pinches the straps of her dress and let’s the snap back into place like a pair of overalls. “By the way, now that this is all taken care of, what should I do with these clothes?”

“Awww. Do you really not like them? You look reeeeaaaally cute.”

“I mean, they’re nice and all, but not really the kind of thing I’d wear everyday. I’ll take that Led Zeppelin shirt, though. That thing’s sick.”

“Hmmm…” I look down at my own clothes. Honestly? I’m pretty happy with this outfit! I was trying to channel my inner Sasha when I threw these on, but I think I was able to make it all my own. “Well, it’d be a waste if we put in all this effort to look fresh as heck and then didn’t do anything. What if we just went ahead with our original plan?”

“Wait. You still wanna do the pictures?”

“I deleted all the other ones from yesterday! Pleeeeaaaase? If we don’t have any pictures from our visit here I’ll die.”

“I’ll be sure to let the coroner know.”

“Do it and I’ll let you decide the next place we go to.”

Amber perks up. “Red Rocks! I choose Red Rocks!”

Glad I know what makes her tick.

“Then you better hustle out there and look pretty with me.” I get in her face and kiss her. Just to emphasize the point.

Amber breaks away, her lipstick smeared down to her chin. “Easy. I already do that with you everyday.”

XXX

Yesterday, we were going southwest, towards the setting sun. Today, we’re headed northeast, into the dark country night. It’ll be my first time visiting Colorado. Maybe Amber will even let me see the place where her and Gramps lived for a while.

I swipe through the picture we took today. In each and every single one of them, sweat is pouring off of us as we pose in front of the painted, neon rocks. Amber’s makeup is running down her face, and my midriff shows exactly how much of my belly leaks over my shorts. Awful, terrible pictures. I love them. And yes, I used Johanna's selfie stick.

“Mind if we stop in Utah for the night?” Amber asks. “I wanna see Goblin Valley during the day.”

“Fine by me! I’ll find a Walmart that allows overnight parking along the way.”

“Thatta’ girl. Keep this up and you’ll be a veteran of the road in no time.”

“After riding with you, I’d say I already am!”

“Just wait until we’re back east and we have to dig up enough change to pay a toll while a bunch of angry New Jersians are honking behind us. Let’s see how experienced you feel then.”

“I’ll just kindly ask them to be a little more patient.”

She laughs and we let the conversation fade into a comfortable silence. The music isn’t cranked up loud this time, instead it’s at exactly the volume it needs to be for me to never want this special moment to end. And considering this track is so long it takes up the entire side of this tape, there’s a good chance it never will!

My phone buzzes. {i}1 new message from Carissa.{/i}

I sent her one of the pictures we took today. If people want to upload pics for everyone to see, that’s fine! I’m more than happy to just send it to the people I love.

CARISSA: you two look like you’re going to burning man.

MARINA: thats good!!! burning man is cool!!!!

CARISSA: its a shell of what it used to be (:

Who taught her to be this savage? Definitely was not me.

CARISSA: jk you two are cute.

CARISSA: i sent that pic to grandma margie btw.

MARINA: WHAT!!!!!????? y would u do that????

CARISSA: you were the one that asked me to tell her, man.

My phone buzzes again. {i}3 new messages from Grandma Margie.{/i}

MARINA: omg omg omg omg omg omg she just sent me a message wat do i do wat do i do wat do i do wat do i do

MARINNA: yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

CARISSA: lol

CARISSA: good luck.

I can’t believe her! I can’’t believe any of this! Like, yeah, I told her to bring it up, but I never said to send pictures! There goes Thanksgiving! Again!

My thumb hovers over my inbox. I cringe so hard I feel like I’ll pull a muscle. With a deep breath, I tap down.

The first thing she sent was the picture of me and Amber. Of course Carissa used the doofiest one. Then, her response:

GRANDMA MARGIE: She seems like a lovely lady. Pay me a visit soon so I can meet her. Grandma

GRANDMA MARGIE: loves you very much. <3