The Drive

Some point in the past 6 years my body decided it wasn't natural to rest. I've found I have the highest success rate for sleep if I'm physically exhausted. After several days of intense exercise classes, the work paid off. I could barely lift my feet by the time the car was packed. I smiled all the way to the bed in a silent victory. I drifted off the moment my head hit the pillow.

At the sound of the door, my eyes snapped open. I felt every muscle tense as the door slammed shut. Sleep faded away with every slap of his sandals approaching the room. He wasn't supposed to return until tomorrow afternoon.

"River, are you asleep?" A deep voice called. A tall man entered the room. The light of Bryce's phone illuminated his blue eyes like a demon.

"Get ready," he said.

I sat up to look at the clock. I'd been asleep for an hour.

"I'm good," I whispered.

"Joan's having the housewarming party tonight after all," my boyfriend responded.

I didn't recognize the name at first. He shouted the party details from the shower and my eyes landed on his hair tie. It's unusual shade of red reminded me of a Polariod I found last week. It was of Bryce and a girl at his Alma Mater. Her hair was that color. I tried to remember more when his tall frame returned to the room, my towel around his hips.

"Can you stop by the gas station on the way?" He asked.

"No, my assets are in the trunk," I said.

"You don't have to be like that," he said. His eyebrows formed a V and his full lips pressed into a flat line.

"How did you get home?" I asked.

"I caught the last bus," he said, crossing his arms. His tone made my palms feel itchy.

"I hate socializing before a presentation," I said. He gave me an expressionless look before taking my hand and kissing it. His complexion looked red against my brown skin. I leaned away.

"You're returning to the land of the living after months of being locked away in your office," he said. "I've missed you. Let's celebrate. If you're too tired, then you can leave and I'll catch a ride home."

I took my hand back and walked to the dresser. I heard him move towards the closet with a sigh. I tucked my bonnet away and began working on my hair when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I checked the message and saw Bryce had sent me an address. Turns out Joan lived right past my best friend's house. Everything in my body didn't want to go to this woman's house but at least I knew the way.

"I'm already awake," I finally said. Once he was dressed, he took my hand and lead me to the car.

As I started down the road, Bryce moved my phone from the mount to change the music. Muscle memory took over once we approached the intersection, but as I eased the car into the right turn lane Bryce's head shot up, his wet hair flinging cold water into my face.

"No go left here, it's better," he said.

"I'm confident it's this direction," I said.

"Trust me," he said, settling back in his chair. "It's better this way."

With the music blaring, I turned left. The stress of driving an  unfamiliar route distracted me from my aching muscles. I mused in silence how long I needed to be there before it was appropriate to leave and whether I would tell Bryce or just sneak out. After a few turns I didn't recognize the area at all. I glanced at the dash out of habit.

"How long until we turn?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," he said after a minute.

"You told me to go this way," I said glancing down again and let out a noise when there was nothing there. "Start the GPS and put the phone back."

"I'll get it, just stay in the right lane," he said. I saw his head in my peripheral vision as he leaned forward to catch the street sign we passed.

"I think you turn on Conway," he said.

"You think?" I said, turning on my signal. "I'm turning around."

"Calm down, the turn is coming up," Bryce said raising his voice.

"I thought you didn't know how to get there," I said, my voice raising too. He replaced my phone to the dash and I checked the directions.

When I looked up, I didn't expect to see a gold car. It was as if my brain sped up its processing time so I could thoroughly examine my choices and their consequences. Frame by frame I saw our cars strike and merge into one like I was being shown a cruel flip book cartoon. I watched half a year's work get thrown around the road like glitter. I watched my arm get pinned between my seat and the door as we spun.

I laid there listening to his screams when the car finally stopped. He said her name over and over and over. I laid there remembering with perfect clarity the red strands of hair wrapped around my scrunchies that I dismissed. I recalled each new mark I noticed on his body that I blamed on the clumsiness he didn't possess. I closed my eyes, hoping I could go back to not seeing.

I didn't open them again until I was in the hospital. The clarity I experienced clung to me like my exhaustion, replaying moments against my will. After the sunlight had risen and reached the other side of the wall, the doctors came in. As they explained my injuries and the yearlong recovery time, I saw my career crumble. When I didn't respond they left, and as I watched them go I saw an unusual shade of red enter the door next to mine.