bedouin dress

Bedouin Dress by the Fleet Foxes was playing on the stereo.

We were both singing along happily. It was about 10:45 pm and we were on the 5, on our way to Los Angeles.

And then his 1992 maroon Geo Prism started to make a very unfortunate noise.

swiftly, slowly, not panicking yet, we pull over to the side of the road.

The large semis making a huge whooshing noise as they passed us.

I could see his fear written on his face like huge block letters, although for his sake, I pretended not to.

the car was dead, it had gone to a better place, this was clear the moment we tried to start it again.

Our savior, the tow truck driver, arrived promptly with a thick mexican accent.

Standing outside of the car there were just rows and rows of blooming fruit trees in the dark, and a slightly dry, very warm wind.

and a very yellow thin crescent moon about to dissapear for the night.

He stood next to me, and put his arm around me, I could tell he wanted to be firm and reassuring.

His lips pressed on my forehead in what could have been a kiss if it were anyone else.

We shared a queen bed in a shitty motel that night, never touching, but all I wanted to do was hold him.

I wanted him to be okay, I wanted him to know that I would be here, by his side, whenever he needs me to be.

I wish I could have told him that it’s okay to not be completely grown up at 19.

I don’t think anyone will know about our shared vulnerability, or shared bed that night.

But it’s something I don’t think I could ever forget.

phoebe