Irrational Love

Tick
tick
tick.

The hands of the of the clock perfectly mirror the sound of the grubby man gnawing at his fingernails behind the counter. "Joe." Reads his name card, partially smeared in ketchup. How delightfully cliché. I'm on a bar stool, cover partially torn off, at the counter of some nameless highway diner. The heat is stifling, and the coffee black as Joe's fingernail clippings. My backpack sighs, it's breath disappearing into the dry air, as it rests its head against the leg of my stool, and I order another coffee. The sludge sloshes against the paper cup, and I slug it down. I have nothing better to do. The highway I'm on is dead. Barely more than twenty cars have passed in the two days I've been here, and not one has stopped. The heat forced me indoors when I woke up at noon this morning. I lower my head, cheek thanking me for the cool solace of the counter top.

"You can't stay in here all day, you're scaring away the other customers." Joe's voice is nearly as gritty as the dirt behind his nails, and his tongue runs over cracked lips as he talks.

"What customers?" I don't bother lifting my head, and gesture to cup again.

"I don't care how many drinks you buy. You have 'till 3:00."

Tick
tick
tick.

The sharp, almost musical tinkling of bells breaks the monotone sound of clockwork and nail biting, and I lift my head halfheartedly. Set in motion by the swinging movement of the front door, bells are signaling the arrival of another customer, welcomed by the stench of grease, sweat, and burnt coffee. As the person, partially hidden by shelves of stale chips, rounds the corner, I feel my eyebrows raise out of their own accord.

The new arrival is nothing like Joe or myself. Not a dirty diner worker, or a wandering hitchhiker that you'd expect to see in this ghost town of a shop. I let my eyes scan her body, working up from her toes, nails painted black, and flip-flops slapping against the floor. The curves of her calves and thighs are smooth tan skin straying up, uninterrupted until her thighs meet the dark denim of her shorts. Her flat stomach is bare, black t-shirt, of some unheard-of band, torn to reveal her belly button sporting two crystal studs. Her collarbone is dusted with small black birds; sparrows, I realize, as she nears me. By the time my eyes find their way to her face, her full lips have settled into a wry smirk, and she's removing her sunglasses, dark eyes narrowed playfully. One hand ruffles her black hair, and she chooses the barstool next to me. "Just a coffee." Her voice is light, nearly breathy, and reminds me of the hot wind, whipping the sand outside into a swirling, biting dance.

"The coffee's horrible." I warn, earning a glare from Joe. I gesture for him to refill mine as well and slide a five dollar bill his way, enough for both our drinks.

She smiles a thank you in reply, and lifts the cup to her lips, fingers wrapping around the Styrofoam. I watch her carefully, and grin knowingly as she fights a grimace, "Well it's not that bad." She lies, setting the drink down after one sip.

I roll my eyes, "Mhmm. Sure. And Joe here's a ladies man." I down another cup, and he doesn't even bother rewarding me with a second glare. Instead, he spits his thumbnail in my direction. I don't follow it's path after it ricochets off the salt shaker.

"So," I see her searching for a change of topic after stifling a giggle, "Where are you headed?"

"East." I reply, simply, not entirely sure of where I want to end up, "How about you?"

"East." She nods. "West. South. North."

I cock an eyebrow, and my fingers pick at the lip of my now empty cup.

"Wherever my car, and the road take me, I suppose." She lets her shoulders rise and drop. I can't help but notice it looks like the birds on her collar are in flight when she shrugs.

"Fair enough, a joy ride is always fun."

"Yeah, but after two weeks it gets lonely."

"Looking for another passenger?" I hear Joe scoff as I nonchalantly try to hitch a ride yet again.

"Hmm." I feel my hopes rise, as she seems to be considering it, "Why not? It's the least I can do to repay you for the coffee."

I am able to laugh now, spirits quickly rising, "Yeah, if that's what you want to call it."

"You're the one that's been downing it like a junkie all morning." Joe spits back, bulky figure making the counter whine as he leans against it.

"Only because I love your company so much, big guy." I snicker, and hear her laughing, too.

She's rising from her stool, when I look back, and I jump to my feet, snatching up my bag, and offering her a hand down. She ignores it, sticking out her tongue, and taking the lead. I can't help but let my eyes stray down to her butt, swaying as she heads for the front door.

"Thanks for the err...coffee." I throw a lazy wave in Joe's direction as she leans on the door, letting it swing open, and the sun blind me for the first time in several hours.

                                                                      ***

"Left or right?" The music is thrown into silence, her voice replacing it, and my eyes snap open, blinking wildly.

"What?" I struggle to wipe the sleep from my eyes and collect my surroundings, blurred by speed.

We're flying along a gravel highway, no clean yellow dashes on crisp black asphalt in our rearview. A fork, stabbed into the road is approaching at 100 miles an hour, and her voice takes on a reckless laugh, "Left or right? Quick!"

"Uh...right? Right!" I stammer, as we get dangerously close to the turn.

Her laugh is lost in the squeal of brakes, and sound of tires crushing gravel. At the last possible second, she wrenches the steering wheel to the right. A grunt tumbles from my lips as I'm thrown against the passenger door. As we come out of the turn, back of the car fishtailing wildly, her laugh breaks through the cloud of dust, again.

"Shit!" I unlock my bone-white vice grip on my arm rest, "Warn me next time!"

"I said 'left or right?'" She snickers, playful grin on her lips as she glances over at me, "I knew what I was doing."

I don't know whether to laugh, or beg to be let out. Shaking my head slowly, a chuckle builds on my lips, "You're insane."

Her smirk is smug, and voice oddly proud as she responds, "I know."

She turns her face back to the road, now, but not before I catch her lips stretching into an oval.

"Need me to drive for a bit?" I offer, as she tries to stifle another yawn with chipped black fingernails.

She shakes her head, and I sigh.

"Well the sun's going down anyways. We might as well stop for the night." I suggest.

She swerves suddenly to the left, nearly missing a half-hidden side road, and I clamp onto my armrest again, mumbled curses tainting my hushed breath, "Good idea." She nods, and grins at me again, before throwing open her door and clambering out.

I let out a long sigh, clenched in my lung's fist, and shake my head. I don't know whether to admire this girl, or jump out, with my thumb out right now. As I'm slipping my shirt over my head, she lets the roof down, opens the back door, and crawls in, on all fours. Immediately, the latter option leaves my mind. "I've got the back." She laughs, sticking out her tongue playfully, again.

Smiling my thanks, I grab the woven blanket she's handed to me, and recline my seat. I let my eyes wander over to her, blanket of wool in deep reds and oranges pulled to her chin. She's wriggling her tight denim short off beneath the blankets, and I hesitantly advert my gaze. Hearing the soft thump of the fabric hitting the floor, I turn again to face her. Her back is to me, now, fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt, and arms stretched upwards to pull it over her head. There's another bird, larger, but in the same black ink as the sparrows, that has been painted onto her left shoulder blade. The silhouette of a phoenix, I realize, as she unclasps her black bra. Sweeping tail feathers brush down to the middle of her tan back, tickling her exposed spine.

With a flick of her hair, she turns, and I quickly whip my head away, pretending to be intently focused on a smudge on the roof of the car. I hear her laugh, a warm, lilting sound, and I look back with a bashful look on my face. She's under the blanket, now, knees pulled to her chest, and blanket to her chin, only her painted toes peeking out from beneath.

Struggling to pull her attention away from my creepiness, I search for a topic of conversation. "I'm sorry I fell asleep so quickly, earlier. I didn't even get a chance to ask your name."

Her lips, a pale red, turn up at the corners. "It's Lily," she replies, "And yours?"

"Eric."

"Well, Eric...what are you searching for out here?" She gestures above us, the pale stars just starting to peek out, across the deep blue sky.

"Hmm," I let my head rest against the seat, and my eyes wander upwards, staying silent for a moment. "Just wanted to get away, you know? Tired of schedule and predictability, and life."

She nods thoughtfully, both of us staring up at the stars, now, as they grow in numbers and radiance across the darkening sky. The moon, a sharp crescent against the contrasting darkness, is rising, and the whole world seems to stand still for a moment. The trees seem to breathe, arms thrown to the sky and swaying with every breeze. The stars glimmer like scattered angels' tears, and I breathe in the night, letting it fill my lungs before breaking the silence. "How about you?"

"I set out looking for the cure for heartbreak." She says simply, resting her chin on her knees, and I feel her eyes on me.

"And have you found it?" I ask, letting my eyes drift to hers, locked in the pale grey that shrouds her irises.

Her lips purse, a small furrow between her brows, and she cocks her head at me, "I'm not entirely sure."

I smile at her, her face, shadowed in confusion, so adorable. "Don't you think you'd know if you'd found your cure?"

"I think..." Her voice is hesitant, "That the only cure would be to fall back into love."

Without warning, her lips are brushing mine, and I let my hand cup her chin, pulling her to me, in sudden desire. My brain screams that I hardly know this girl, but my body only pulls her closer. Breaking away, for only a moment, she slips into the passenger seat with me, leaving her blanket behind and her chest bare in front of me. As she presses her lips urgently to mine, I let my hands trace down her back, and draw her chest against mine.

As she pulls back for a moment, her eyes sparkling, and ebony hair tucked behind her ears, she whispers, "Would it be irrational to say that after less than a day with you, I believe that you are my cure?"

I let my lips brush her jawline before answering, "Would it be irrational to say that I feel the same? That after seeing you walk in, those sparrows along your collarbone, I wanted you then? That your smile, your laugh, your recklessness and eccentricity, though just introduced to me, have already pulled me in? I don't care if I've spent twelve hours with you, I feel like I've known you for longer. I want you now, Lily. I want to be your cure."

A smile plays across those perfect lips. "Good. I've always liked a little irrationality. Life's no fun always playing safe, or living without walking on the edge sometimes." Her words are a laugh mixed with a whisper, hot breath brushing my lips, only an inch from hers.