Page 61 of Sweet Spot

“Yeah. It’s like a road trip. I’ve never taken one before and I’ve always wanted to,” she said, pushing her Ray Bans to the top of her head. I glanced at her and grinned. She looked like summer in a plain white T-shirt tucked into a little tan skirt that flared out. I didn’t know shit about women’s fashion but I was pretty sure Lia was the definition of simple but elegant.

“Why don’t you take a road trip then?” I asked her.

“Because I never got my driver’s license.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. I got a learner’s permit but once my mom died, I kind of lost motivation to do anything for awhile,” she said, looking out the window. “And that included getting my license, I guess. I just kind of... existed for a year or so after. I had moments where I was laughing and having genuine fun but for a long time, I wasn’t really there. It was like a part of me died with my mom and I was trying to get to know myself again for awhile after.”

Her words twisted something inside me. “I can understand that. I went through something similar.”

“With your parents?”

“No. They’re both alive,” I said, controlling my urge to add “unfortunately” to the end of that sentence.

“Where are they?”

“Miami.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am. But now that I think about it, Tess does always wear a swimsuit under all her clothes during summer.”

I laughed. “Yeah, we were total water babies. We’d go swimming pretty much every day. Walk forty-five minutes to Hollywood Beach and then take the bus back because we were too tired to walk. The bus driver started bringing snacks in case he saw us. Plantain chips sometimes, but Dunkaroos mostly. That was the shit.”

“Lukas Hendricks eating Dunkaroos. I can hardly imagine it.”

I grinned. “Well, imagine it. I loved that shit. Dunkaroos, Gushers, Capri Suns. Whole bunch of stuff I can’t find anymore.”

“Well maybe you’re not looking hard enough. I can find you Capri Suns easy.”

“Yeah?” I turned to catch the sass on Lia’s face. Only she could make smug look so good. “Well, do it then. We can make a day of it. We’ll drink Capri Sun, have Lunchables for dinner and watch Jumanji and Space Jam.”

“And Matilda.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t know Matilda? Wow. I feel sorry for you.”

I snorted. “Jesus Christ, take it easy. We’ll watch Matilda.”

“Good. Though I have a hard time believing Tess never watched Matilda growing up. Every nineties girl was obsessed with both the book and the movie.”

“Well, she had the misfortune of having me as a big brother, and I basically dictated all our TV viewing.”

“Rude. Didn’t your parents intervene?”

“They were never home.”

Lia paused. “Oh. Were they… workaholics?” she asked hopefully.

“Alcoholics.”

She hung her head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Tess didn’t even know anything was wrong growing up. It was just our normal,” I said as we got onto the I-95.