Kelly Rysten

Geogirl


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      “I know. It’s just sort of humbling not knowing when I will ever see a shower again, or where my next meal will come from.”

      “No worries. Repeat.”

      “No… worries.”

      “It’ll be all right.”

      “Okay.”

      We spent the afternoon in the university library downloading caches from the geocaching website. We sat shoulder to shoulder laughing at odd cache descriptions and the stories people had written when they logged the cache finds. Then we had fun writing the tale of our find at the bridge, making sure to note that the cache was safe and sound despite its trip down the river.

      My mom would have been horrified to see me eating fast food on a futon mattress hunched over a computer, parked next to a business that advertised free wifi. It was cozy. Stinky and gaudy and cozy. It felt like a campout in a zebra striped blanket fort. And when night fell and we couldn’t really do anything because of the darkness we lay side by side wondering what was going to happen.

      Would he come on to me? I could imagine the lecture from my mom. I didn’t need to hear it. I thought Twiggy respected me enough to not push, but I knew the subject would come up eventually, and how would I respond? How did I feel about spending the night with a guy? No, a man. I might still feel like a lost little kid but we were both old enough to be called man and woman. And it was only natural that eventually we would have to relate to each other as a man and a woman instead of BFF. Just the acronym sounded high schoolish and immature. BFF. Who ever knew if any friend was a best friend forever? My friends from high school had sworn to stay in contact. After three semesters of college, where were they? I didn’t know. Friendships were something I enjoyed at the time and didn’t hold onto tightly.

      “Gabby, I won’t bite. And I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

      Lethal words. And step one in the cycle. If I scooted over that would be step two. Gulp. Maybe talking would make him feel better.

      “I know.” Stupid, stupid, stupid. That is an insult to a man. And it’s not true. “I mean… Twig… I think this is a process.”

      He turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

      “I’m sorry we’re stuck out on the street in the van.”

      “That’s not a problem. I knew we’d be doing this occasionally.”

      “At least trust me enough to relax.”

      “Okay.”

      Five minutes ticked by and he sighed. “You can start trusting me now.”

      “I’ve never slept with a friend before.”

      He laughed.

      “I’ve never slept in the same bed with anybody, not even my parents when I was little. They said kids needed space just like parents and they always sent me back to bed. I went to a camp once where we all slept together on the floor in sleeping bags. That’s the closest I’ve ever been to… to this.”

      “I tell you what. I won’t do anything in bed that I haven’t done out of bed. How far have we gone out of bed?”

      “Uh, shoulder hugs, sitting close.”

      “And I tied your shoe once. Don’t forget that. Your knee was sore and you didn’t want to bend it. I tied your shoe. I almost saw your ankle that time, too.”

      I smiled in the dark.

      “I didn’t know my mom very well, but one thing she always told me,” he said. “Is the best ones are worth the wait. It means you have pride and grit and stand up for what you know is right. And I want it to be right for you. So you don’t have to worry.”

      I scooted closer. And I tried to relax.

      “I take one thing back. I might do one thing that I haven’t done while we were out of bed.”

      “What’s that?”

      “Snore. I haven’t heard complaints but I can’t promise not to.”

      “No worries.”

      “Atta girl.”

       Chapter 6

      That first night didn’t go very well. I had hoped our easygoing friendship would follow us day and night. I took that as a hint that Twiggy might be a little more serious about actually having a real relationship than I was. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Twiggy. It was that he didn’t act like a person who had girl friends and relationships. He was one of the gang, with everybody he met. He would help anybody tie their shoe and handed out shoulder hugs to anybody for any reason. I even saw him hug a girl in line at the coffee shop who was happy to get a ten percent discount on Pink Ribbon Day. If you wore a pink ribbon to the coffee shop you got a discount and part of your purchase went to cancer research. She didn’t have enough money for the large coffee without the discount and she just had enough with it. She clapped her hands and clasped her coffee like it as a real treat and Twiggy high fived her and gave her a hug. So I didn’t read a lot of commitment into Twiggy’s shoulder hugs.

      Right now I could identify with the girl who was happy to get ten percent off a cup of coffee. That was only thirty cents. Being a broke college student had its ups and downs. I was thinking it also had its looses and tights. I needed to be careful if I was going to eat and shower over the next few weeks. Laying in the van, I wasn’t sure what was more important to me. After climbing around muddy river banks and taking a couple of dunkings in the creek a shower was more tempting than breakfast.

      Twiggy woke to find me attempting to put makeup on in the rear view mirror of the van.

      “What are you doing?”

      “Attempting to make myself presentable. Is my hair still sticking straight up?” I turned my head to see but the mirror was too small to see the top of my head if I tipped my head down.

      “Not quite,” he said.

      “I wish we had a place to plug in a curling iron. We should have traded your car for one of those new cars with electrical outlets inside.”

      “Do you think there is a student that would trade a car like that for my car?” he asked.

      “Uh… no. I guess there were some who had a car like that but they’d want to keep it for the summer.”

      “Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

      “It was a little chilly,” I said. “But after I warmed up my spot I did okay.”

      “I could have helped in that department,” he said. “Ready for some breakfast?”

      “No, but I don’t see any way to be ready.”

      “Coffee?”

      I huffed in frustration. I looked in the mirror.

      “Hair gel?” he asked.

      “Hair gel builds up. It might help for one day but it’s not a long term solution.”

      “What is a long term solution?”

      “A shower in the mornings.”

      “I tell you what. We’ll get some breakfast and some coffee and we’ll hit the road where nobody will recognize us and we’ll find the next cache and then we’ll find a place with a shower.”

      “I don’t want to be seen in there,” I said. “Let’s hit the road and find a place to eat breakfast where nobody will recognize us.”

      “Gabby, you look fine.”

      “I do not look fine! I look like I haven’t showered in two days and spent the night sleeping in a van. Guys are so lucky. They can go two days without