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Ransom(24)

By:Rachel Schurig


We join Karen by the display of car chargers, and I manage to find one that fits my phone. “So that’s about it for me,” I tell them.

Karen peers into the cart. “Me, too. We have tampons, snacks, and an extra memory card for my camera. I’m good to go.”

“I guess I’m ready, too,” Paige says, though she doesn’t look happy about ending our shopping trip. She’s been sending me shopping-related texts with lots of exclamation points and smiley faces for the past week. “Shopping is an essential part of the road trip process,” one read. “It encourages excitement and helps build anticipation.”

“So I guess we’re ready now,” I say, feeling a little lurch in my stomach. In less than twelve hours, the girls will show up at my house in Paige’s Cavalier to pick me up. Then we’ll start our twelve-hundred-mile journey.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve come to really enjoy hanging out with Karen and Paige. We spent long hours studying for finals in the library, hung out in their dorm, and met up at the Student Center for lunch nearly every day. I feel more comfortable around them than just about anyone else in my life right now, which, granted, isn’t saying much, considering my interpersonal interaction is currently limited to phone calls with my dad, lectures from professors, and sessions with my shrink.

Still, I have fun with these girls. Paige does her best to run interference for me, distracting me from things that she can see are upsetting me, or even more importantly, distracting Karen when she sees a panic attack is imminent. Having an attack in front of other people is terrible. I feel exposed and judged, which in turn, makes the panic worse. Paige does her best to give me time to get away from the curious eyes of her roommate, and I’m beyond thankful for it.

But now we’re not talking hanging out several times a week. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to be with them nonstop, pretty much twenty-four/seven. I don’t know how I’ll deal with that. I’m used to having the emptiness and quiet of my apartment to decompress. What if I can’t handle being social for more than a few hours at a time?

And then there’s the matter of who we might be seeing on this tour. I’m pretty sure I’ll see Daltrey at least once; that just seems logical. What will I say? Will he still be mad? Will he be able to tell that I’m different now? I automatically pull my sleeves down, feeling close to sick.

“We’re going to have the best time,” Paige says. Her voice is casual, but she’s looking right at me, as if she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I have my playlists all set up on my iPod. There’s going to be so much Ransom in that car it will make your ass hurt.”

Karen laughs. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“A lot. It means a lot.”

Karen shakes her head. “Personally, I’m more excited about all the greasy fast food we’re going to eat.”

Paige makes a face. The girls have a deal that Paige isn’t allowed to mention anything relating to a food’s healthiness level—or lack thereof. She’s supposed to happily munch on chips and fast-food burgers for the duration of the trip. I can’t tell yet if she’s excited about it or pissed. She certainly seemed pretty eager to pick out snack food, almost as if she’s been imagining what self-restricted foods she’d be “forced” to eat for quite some time. From the way Karen is smirking, I have a feeling she thinks the same thing.

We go to the registers to pay for our loot. I’m kind of shocked by how much we’ve racked up in snacks and soda, but Karen assures me it’s just part of the proper road trip experience. They drop me off my apartment around eleven.

“I cannot believe I still have so much to do,” Paige says, turning to face me from the front seat. “I’ve barely packed a thing.”

I’ve been done packing since three days ago. But then, my social life is not nearly what Paige’s is. What else was I supposed to do all the nights I’ve been here alone, if not obsess about the trip? It’s also pretty easy to pack when you live exclusively in jeans and hoodies.

“Good luck,” I say. “Try to get some rest.”

“Yeah,” Karen says. “Because the drive schedule is nonnegotiable.”

I laugh. I’ve found that Karen and Paige are kind of obsessed with schedules and lists. Much like their food-fetching turn-taking schedule, they determine ahead of time whose turn it will be for just about any task imaginable. Buying groceries, stopping by Red Box for their Wednesday movie nights, picking up coffee before their only 8 a.m. classes—all are scheduled ahead of time. Driving during the road trip definitely falls under the category of Things That Must Be Scheduled.