(Rose:)
It didn’t matter who went first. Since she seemed so adamant, he went ahead and casually strolled through the door that she held open for him, knowing that his nonchalance after their little spat would irritate her all the more. She was so cute when she was riled up, especially when it was about one of her pet issues. So of course anything that offended her pseudo-feminist sensibilities was good for a kick, as was any nay-saying about the independent, self-reliant spirit she valued so much.
Oh yeah, he was already in trouble for that. Just half way into the first day of what was supposed to be a week-long road trip, and already they were lost, and he had made her mad just by pointing that out. You could tell, because she hadn’t opened her mouth in at least a good fifteen minutes.
That really was not a good sign when country music was playing and it didn’t bode well for what was supposed to be their adventure of a lifetime, their fitting end to what everyone told them was the best four years of their lives.
The planning had been brilliantly executed. Compiling lists of cheesy tourist sights and the architectural landmarks that they had always oohed and aahed over, plotting out distances that each one would drive each day, scheduling around mandatory family visits and the call of their new jobs – they had made sure that every tiny detail was in place, investing as much time as necessary during the “study breaks” of their depressingly final set of finals. Somehow they’d overlooked figuring out how not to get at each others’ throats when things like this arose.
As she hunted down the sour candy straws that he’d noticed were her staple gas station purchase, he went to the clerk to check what he was already certain were the directions to get them back on t heir route, origin San Francisco, final destination New York. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to point out the ridiculousness of her idea of how to get there just as she walked up to the counter, but at least now they really did know where to go. She paid in silence and handed him the keys as they walked out to her RAV4, which he had agreed to taking only after demonstrations of the not- so-horrible gas mileage and a rather convincing argument about naps and storage space.
Just as they reached the sign announcing their entrance to Yosemite, she opened her eyes and restored her seat to its upright position, confirming his suspicion that she had been feigning sleep for the past two hours.
After they had paid the entrance fee, she turned to him with a teasing smile and said, “What’s for dinner?”
Later, their simple meal of grilled corn on the cob and steak settling peacefully in their stomachs, having enjoyed the stars from their posts by the dying embers, they climbed into the sleeping bag. As she started going over their neatly printed plans for the following day, it occurred to him suddenly that the key to really enjoying themselves, to celebrating their friendship and their past four years together, to really having the adventure of a lifetime, was to get rid of the plans. To a stunned, but not wholly displeased reaction, he grabbed hold of her papers and he tore the map in two and let the pieces fall to the floor.