The two men hadn’t even assisted us with getting Layla’s car onto the trailer. In fact, they’d acted like they’d never done it before in their lives, so we’d had to figure it out ourselves. It’d taken longer than we’d wanted, and we were now behind schedule.
“At least it was cheap.”
We arrived at the apartment she’d been sharing with a friend from college. We were both starving, but neither of us had felt confident attempting to grab a quick bite with the truck and trailer.
We’d be lucky if we made it the entire trip without getting stuck somewhere as it was. Our driving skills weren’t something to brag about even on the best of days.
But two hours, two sets of sore, shaking arms, and two pairs of sweaty pits and tits later, we were done packing.
“Why do you have so much stuff? Where are we going to put all of this?” I asked, sagging against the driver door. The thought of raising my noodle arms to hold the steering wheel for the next few hours sounded horrendous.
“It’s not as much as it looks. It’s mostly clothes. And shoes,” she said, walking toward the apartment door one last time.
I huffed a laugh. My fashion sense tended to be ‘thrift store snazzy,’ whereas Layla’s was ‘come get me sexy.’ She’d always had the most amazing closet.
“I really don’t think all your bedroom pieces and your music stuff will fit in the room, Layla. The rooms are small.”
“Eh, I’ll shove it all in the garage since you don’t use it. The acoustics will be bomb in there anyway.” She disappeared into the apartment to give one final look over and to grab her fur baby.
I walked around and gripped the rope to pull the rolling door shut, eyeing Layla’s keyboard and sound system. She’d been singing and performing since she was old enough to hold a guitar, and there was literally no one who could hold a candle to her. Banjo, violin, electric, twelve string, she could play them all.
During middle school, she’d even added piano to the mix. I was just patiently waiting for her to become famous and support me for the rest of my life like the dependable baby daddy she was.
Confirming the back was latched and wouldn’t fly open, I’d just started turning when something slammed into the backs of my knees, sending me forward and smacking my forehead into the truck.
“What the hell, Sadie?” I yelled, shooting a glare at the wet nose and lolling tongue staring up at me. That adorable face silently watched me rub my forehead while her butt moved a mile a minute. “Yeah, yeah, hello to you too, mutt.”
Sadie was a pit-bull, golden retriever mix, and at only a few years old, she was as sweet as she was rambunctious. We’d already shoved her giant bed in-between the captain chairs of the truck cab, and I opened the door, letting her leap in.
“We all set?” I turned to see Layla locking the front door with a licorice stick hanging out of her mouth.
“Yup. Let’s get on the road, bitch!”
Wine shot out of my nose, sending flames through my sinus passages and tears to the corner of my eyes. I flailed my hands in front of my face, coughing and wheezing. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I did.”
“In the same weekend?” I somehow croaked out in the midst of my coughing fit. I closed my eyes and squeezed the bridge of my nose. Wine would be sloshing around my brain for at least a week after this.
She continued, unfazed by my near-death experience next to her. “I mean, I would’ve voted for us to all join together, but sadly they weren’t down for crossing swords. Shame, but we can’t have it all, I guess.”
I dropped my hand, squinting my eyes open to look at her. “You’re joking.”