Drifting at Night

Emma checked her phone again, only to be mocked by its vacant screen staring back at her. It had become like a nervous tick, this compulsion to look every minute or two, bitter disappointment greeting her every time. The girl shivered. It was one of the coldest nights of the year, not the ideal time to be living out of your car, she thought with a wistful smile. She leaned forward and rotated the key in the ignition, listening for the engine to turn over. The little Honda whined for a moment, then whirred to life. She sighed and enjoyed the burst of warm air that dispersed from the vents. Adjusting the radio to an oldies station, she hunkered down into a cocoon of coats and blankets, lit a cigarette, and waited.

The low, drawn out buzz from her cup holder nudged Emma out of her reverie. She blinked a few times, adapting her eyes to the glow of her phone, and swiped it to life. Four short words flashed across the screen. 'Meet you in ten,' they read. A wave of relief washed over her, she was no longer condemned to be alone after all. Twelve minutes later, a forest green Subaru sporting a battered bumper pulled in beside her. The manual window jerked down, revealing the freckled features of her rescuer. Emma slid hers down to match his. "Hey," Caleb said with a grin. He smelled of smoke. "I hear you're looking for a place to bunk down."
She flashed a half hearted smile back. "Something like that," she replied.
"Well, my dad's got an empty apartment over in Snowsville that we've been doing some work on," Caleb said as he reached into his pocket, "and I have the keys." He held up his hand and shook it as proof , the keys jangled a jarring melody. "So, I was thinking that, I don't know, maybe you could stay there. For a few nights anyway."
Emma couldn't believe her luck. A few nights of shelter with heat, electricity, walls - all of the basics that are taken for granted, daily. There would be nobody to bother, or to bother her for that matter. A couch surfer's dream. She looked up and said, " What are we waiting for? It's freezing."

Snowsville was a pocket sized town with barely more than a general store to call its own. It lay tucked away in the crook of a desolate stretch of road, like a toy wedged in the crack of a couch cushion, and forgotten. Caleb pulled over, parking in an insignificant dirt lot across from the store. The deserted building was a stark contrast to the cozy backdrop, more suited for a ghost town. It gave Emma the creeps. "It looks haunted," she observed as she climbed out of her car, slamming the door shut behind her.
"It probably is," Caleb replied. She rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder, landing it without much enthusiasm. The chill of the wind crept its way beneath her layers of clothing, causing her teeth to clatter together. "Guess it will be warmer than the car though," she eyed the place once more, and shuffled after him.

They climbed up a rickety set of steps, picking their way over piles of debris every so often. The room itself was unremarkable, a typical studio apartment with a main room and a tiny bathroom right off the kitchen. She was just thankful for the simple comforts, her toes curled as she basked in the delicious warmth. Emma rolled out her bright red sleeping bag and tossed her pack of camels atop it. Caleb produced an ash tray, along with his tobacco and papers, and began to roll, a neat little scroll appearing at his fingertips. He licked the edge of the paper and sparked a light, touching the flickering flame to the end of his cigarette. He inhaled. Emma found the dexterity with which he did this fascinating. Almost attractive.

"So tell me," Caleb began, "why are you living out of your car? "
Emma pushed out her Monroe piercing with her tongue, driven by nervous impulse. " Well that was right to the point, " she laughed, "no pleasant small talk or friendly banter to ease your way in?" Caleb said nothing. "Okay fine," she said, sighing. "I have no options. I can't afford a place on my own, not with my car payments. Fast food isn't exactly the greatest paying profession, you know." She paused, and grinned, "Besides, it sounded more glamorous than it actually is." Caleb shook his head, his abundant curls bobbing up and down in a curious rhythm. After a moment he asked the inevitable, loaded question. "What about your parents? "
She hesitated, choking on her response. "We... don't get along," she admitted. Neglecting to mention the why behind it. The narcissism. The abuse of alcohol and emotions. The familiar line, "don't say anything about Dad. You don't want to get him into trouble." Echoed in the back of her brain, silencing her.
"Fair enough." They sat in the quiet room for a while, finishing off their cigarettes. Smoke hung in the air, lingering, embedding itself in swirling patterns on the walls. "Well, I'd better get going," Caleb announced. "I'll swing by with some coffee in the morning."
" Thank you, " Emma said, radiating sincerity. He was risking a great deal by letting her crash here, most notably his father's trust. Unaware of this fact, or simply uncaring, Caleb leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. "Goodnight." He murmured, and turned to go out into the frozen night. The girl was left to sort through these unexpected events, alone. She regarded herself with disgust, unsure she could sink any lower. Her life was not how she had imagined it would be, when she was a young dreamer. She was now shrouded in a desperate blend of loneliness and vulnerability, though she denied the existence of these feelings. She chose instead to rationalize her actions as an assertion of her independence. By pretending that she wasn't bogged down by these emotions, she had spawned in herself an ambiguous sense of morality. Not wishing to dwell on these thoughts any longer, Emma packed a bowl, fat and overflowing with pungent weed, and smoked herself into a numbing oblivion.