“I said okay,” Michael lied. He couldn’t be bothered to end the evening on an argument.
He pulled the van’s passenger door open as soon as he was close enough and peered in to one of his best friends, Joel.
“Put that shit out,” said Joel — his green eyes fixed on the cigarette hanging from Michael’s mouth.
“Can’t we just open the window?” asked Michael as he jumped up onto the seat of the VW camper van.
“I mean it, put that shit out,” Joel repeated. “You fucking stink.”
“Jesus, deny a man his simple pleasures, Joel…” moaned Michael. He took an extra long drag before flicking the butt out of the van. “Happy?”
“You going to spend the whole weekend smoking?”
“Depends if you’re going to spend the whole weekend being a miserable fuck.”
There was the slightest of pauses before they both started laughing.
“How have you been?” asked Joel as he started to drive the purple vehicle out of the car park.
“Well… I’m better now I’m not going back to that shit-hole. You got my bag?”
Joel nodded, “What did they say when you told them?”
“Told them? I haven’t told them anything.”
“You’re just not going back?” Joel was a little younger than Michael not that you’d think it if you looked at them side by side. Years working in cold garages, training as a mechanic, had ruined his complexion and he always looked as though he hadn’t bothered to wash the various engine greases from his black hair; always knotted and matted.
“Damn straight. I don’t owe them any favours. You finished the van then?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“Sort of.”
“Well it’s looking good.”
“Yeah, I got that bit fixed up okay.”
The van did look good. A classic VW camper van with a funky sparkling purple paint job which certainly caught the attention of people passing by. The roof rack was a shiny chrome metal. Even the van’s grill was chrome. The insides had been fixed too. The seats, once covered in torn smelly fabric, were now a lush leather — a lush leather Joel was extremely protective of even to the point of asking people to remove any keys from their back pockets before taking a seat for fear of causing a rip.
“So what bit wasn’t fixed up okay?” asked Michael.
“Let’s just say we nearly ended up having to get a taxi…”
“What?”
“It wouldn’t start.”
“But it’s okay now?”
“I guess. I haven’t actually switched the engine off to check if it starts again. I got it started. I figured why rock the boat?”
Michael laughed, “Don’t you think it would have been a better idea to get the engine fixed first?”
“Aren’t you a little old to be working in a cinema?” Joel countered.
“Ah ha! I don’t work there anymore!”
“Touché! Anyway, I don’t have the money to fix the engine at the moment.”
“Where are we picking the others up from?” Michael asked as he made himself comfortable.
“They’re all waiting at Lara’s house.”
“Lara?”
Joel nodded.
“She’s still coming?” asked Michael.
“You know, she never wanted to come on this trip. She was only doing it to please me…”
“And now you’ve broken up?”
“Well now she’s coming on it just to piss me off.” Joel noticed Michael was looking at him with a look of concern on his face. No doubt he was worried about the potential non-stop bickering from the ex-couple.
It wasn’t just jobs Michael drifted between — it was also girlfriends — and he was a firm believer in the impossibilities of remaining friends once you had broken up with someone you’d ejaculated in. ‘Lines had been crossed,’ he always told people who argued that it was possible to remain friends.
“It will be fine,” said Joel with what was supposed to be a reassuring smile, “we’re both adults…”
“Asshole.” Lara was standing at the van’s side door. It was the first time she had seen Joel since he had unceremoniously dumped her via text message; an act brought about by lack of phone credit as opposed to cowardice — not that Lara believed him and certainly not what she told their mutual friends who preferred to simply not get involved.
“Whore.” Joel’s insult was merely a reaction to being called an asshole. He didn’t believe Lara was a whore. He had been her first love and knew she hadn’t seen anyone since they had broken up. As soon as the word escaped his lips he regretted it — not that he wanted her to know.
“Okay, you can sit right at the back,” said Hayley — another of the group — as she pushed Lara into the seats towards the back of the van; the furthest point from Joel.
Hayley and Lara were complete opposites; whilst Hayley was a natural blonde, with brain cells to match, Lara was dark haired and highly intelligent. Hayley was stunningly attractive whereas you had to look deep to see any beauty in Lara — that’s not saying it wasn’t there, it was just well hidden underneath the shield she continually put up to protect herself from the assholes of the world. A shield which Joel saw straight through after initial, careful navigation. Hayley never left home without a full face of carefully applied make-up — used expertly to enhance her model-like looks — and Lara never left home with make-up. Even when she and Joel were dating she still preferred the natural look as opposed to a look which gave the impression of being too ‘try-hard’.
It would be a safe assumption that neither Hayley nor Lara would have been friends had it not been for their mutual acquaintances.
With Lara tucked into the corner of the back row of seats, Hayley climbed up onto the row of seats behind the driver’s seat.
“They haven’t started already, have they?” asked Dan. He jumped into the seat next to his girlfriend, Hayley, and turned to Lara. “You haven’t started already, have you? You’ll never win him back at that rate…”
“I wouldn’t take him back,” she hissed.
Michael leaned over to Joel and whispered in his ear, “Dude — she hates you… What did you say to her?”
“Not a lot. I only had enough credit to send the one text.”
“You text her?”
Joel nodded.
Michael couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s awesome.”
Lara called from the back seat, “I can hear you, you know…”
Dan carried on pestering her, “Did you save the text? Can I read it?”
“Fuck off, Dan…” she hissed.
Charlotte, the final member of the group, climbed into the van and took her seat next to Lara, “Please stop arguing,” she urged. The youngest girl of the group, Charlotte hated anything to do with arguments or ill-feelings. Protected from the harsh realities of life, like arguments between friends, by her parents — the others often felt the need to try and protect her too. Anything to stop her from bursting into tears — something she was often prone to doing and often without much cause. “You said everything would be cool between you guys.”
“It will be,” said Lara. She turned to look out of the window, “As soon as he drops dead. Okay. I’m sorry. It’s out of my system now.”
“Look…” Joel went to argue.
“You’re talking to me? You sure you wouldn’t prefer to send me a text? I haven’t changed my number yet,” she retorted, cutting him short.
Michael leaned across and whispered, “Because she’s still hoping you’ll text an apology and go back out with her.”
“Not happening,” Joel whispered back. “Not got any credit, for one.”
“Come on already!” shouted Dan. “Let’s get this show on the fucking road already! We’ll never get there! Come on! Come on! Come on!”