Drive
Miraculously, I'm driving down the empty highway as my tears are flowing down my cheeks all while Peter is still knocked out. The bright side of the situation? I tied his hand to the handle thingy above the door and blind folded him. What also makes this good is the fact that I am able to drive down this empty highway as my eyes are blurry from all these tears due to the terrible day I’m having. God, I feel bad for kidnapping this man, but what else was I going to do? How is this going to work? God, I am so landing on Santa’s naughty list if my mom was here to witness my-
“Shit!” I say as I hit a pot hole and the guy wakes up.
He groans.
“Hi!” I tell him wiping my eyes and my cheeks.
“Huh?” He answered groggily and confused.
“Is your head all right?” I genuinely ask him. “You kinda hit your head hard.”
“What?” He asks confused.
‘Poor fellow.’ I tell myself. “How about I take your blindfold off?” I offer as I pull over.
I take off the thick scarf I used as a blindfold and place it in the back.
“Better?” I ask him.
He simply looks at me.
“Hi.” I tell him as I start to drive again.
“Yeah.” He says.
It’s quiet for a moment, until-
“What the-” He says looking at his tied up hands. “I’m not sure what is going on here, but I can tell that this plan doesn’t seem very well planned out.”
I continue to drive, unwilling to admit that I haven’t planned out this half-baked plan.
“Face it: I am a slightly bigger guy who can overpower you.” He tells me.
“True.” I agree. “Unless you knock yourself out, first.” I tell him as I look at him as he glares at me. “Or I shoot you.” I tell him, pulling the gun out on him, smiling.
“I uh – you seem like a nice guy.” He tells me hesitantly. “Probably a little eggnog can help you relax.” He tells me as the gun is still in his face as I am driving down the road. “Come on.” He chuckles. “You’re not going to shoot me with that gun, are you?”
As I was about to answer, a dog abruptly runs across the street.
I yell out as I swerve onto the other side of the road, accidentally pulling the trigger.
“Ahh!” The guy yells as I almost shot off his manhood.
“Oh My God!” I exclaim, nearly about to cry as I get myself together, swerving back to the correct side of the road. “My God!” I exclaim once more as I look at the damaged passenger seat.
He looks at me with a shocked expression.
“I am so sorry!” I tell him, hoping I don’t break down and cry once more.
⁂
“So, here’s the deal.” I tell him about an hour and forty minutes later. “I will introduce you to my family as my boyfriend ‘Max’ who unfortunately couldn’t make it.”
“I am not doing shit like that.” He tells me.
“Well guess what.” I tell him. “You don’t have a choice here, Carl.” I respond in a highly sassy manner.
“My name is Peter, ok? I-”
He stops talking and he suddenly smiles.
“Oh!” He says with a huge smile on his face. “Your boyfriend dumped you!” He says with glee.
‘Correction, I dumped him!’ I want to tell him, but for some reason, I can’t.
“It all makes sense now. He dumped you like you were yesterday’s bad lunch.”
“No. I told you that he couldn’t make it.” I argue.
“Sure.” He says smiling. “You’re one of those man-hating types of men who can’t keep a man, especially during the holiday season, after being rejected time after time.”
‘Does this dude have a crystal ball or something?’ I think disdainfully to myself as I keep my eyes on the road as he keep babbling.
“-And now, you’re taking it out on an innocent bystander!”
“What?!” I exclaim. “I am doing nothing of the sort!”
“Keep lying to yourself.” Peter tells me.
I simply huff as I notice the light for the gas tank turn on.
I sigh, wanting to slap the shit out of Peter being half right about my predicament.
A few minutes later, I see a gas station.
I pull into the station and stop at the fourth pump.
“Yes! A gas station.” Peter says awkwardly moving as his hands are still tied to the handle while I pull the keys out of the ignition. “At least someone can see me tied up in broad daylight.”
Fed up with my situation and Peter’s big mouth, I pull the scarf and tie it over his eyes once more.
“You know that this isn’t going to work forever, right? You can’t hold the gun to my head during Christmas dinner! I am going to tell your family exactly who I am when we get there, and then I will tell them how crazy you are and-”
I start to search his pockets.
“Hey! You’re getting a bit too personal here!” Peter tells me, but at the moment I really couldn’t care less.
“No phone?” I ask him.
“I left it in my coat when took it off. At Oscorp. Before I was kidnapped!”
I smile at this for some reason before I exit the car.
“What is this stuff made of?” I hear him ask as I make my way into the little store to buy gas.
“Hello.” I greet the elderly man behind the cash register.
“Hello.” He greets.
I quickly grab a bottle of rum, a six pack of beer, a bag of chips and a party sized bag of barbecue Lays, before going to the checkout stand.
“All of this and $35 on four please.” I tell him handing him a hundred dollar bill.
“Alrighty.” He tells me, ringing up the items.
“Thanks.” I tell him.
Almost a minute later, he hands me my change.
“Here you go.” He says putting my items in a bag.
“Thank you.” I tell him. “Happy holidays!”
“I usually don’t do this, but it’s been a slow day. I’ll help you pump the gas into your car.”
“Oh, no!” I tell him. “You don’t have to do that, sir!”
“But I want to.” He says walking towards the door. “Don’t deny one of my few request while I’m still in the land of the living.”
“It really isn’t necessary.” I argue weakly as I follow him towards the door.
“What’s going on here?” He asks me as he sees Peter’s hands tied up and blind folded.
“I uh – That’s my boyfriend, Peter.” I lie. “I’m surprising him for the holidays by taking him on a little get away for the holidays. It’ll be a holiday to remember, filled with the tie-me-up, tie-me-down, kind of thing.”
“A wild weekend, huh?” He asks me as he strokes his chin. “Come with me!”
“Oh, I would love to, nut I really don’t have time.” I say, rushing off to my car as he steps back into the little store.
‘Karma is going to get my ass, big time.’ I say to myself as Peter is talking to me while I put the bag in the car. ‘Just my luck. I picked up someone who talks too damn much.’
“And I-”
I slam the door, effectively cutting Peter off as I start to pump gas in the tank.
I sigh heavily as I try not to cry.
“Here you are, young man.” The old man says.
He hands me a pair of red, fuzzy, handcuffs.
“Aww.” I say. “Thanks. I love these!” I honestly tell him.
“No problem.” He tells me as the tank is full.
“Now, you better watch out or else I’m coming after you next.” I joke with him as I put the pump back.
He laughs.
“Merry Christmas!” I yell as I get into my car.
He simply smiles at me as he walks back to the little mart.
“Ok. This kidnapping has gotten a little more professional.” I tell Peter as I untie his hands from the handle above the door and handcuff him.
“Great.” He says sarcastically.
“Slightly more comfy now?” I ask him as I uncover his eyes.
“More like humiliated.” He answered.
“So long, young man.” The old man yells as I pull out of the gas station. “Have fun you lucky little bastard!”
I can only smile.
⁂
“Peter, I would like to apologize to you.” I tell him in complete honesty as I open the bag of chips about half an hour later. “I apologize for being sassy towards you, nearly shooting off your dick, kidnapping you.”
He simply glares angrily at me.
“Chips?” I offer.
He takes some from the bag, without thanking me.
‘Rude ass, motherfucker!’ I wanna say, but his anger is pretty much justified because of my actions, so I have to let this slide.
“Thank you. You’re very kind.” He says sarcastically a few minutes later.
“Ok.” I say. “It’s safe to say that we should share a few things about each other to make us believable.” I supply. “You’re like an biologist that works with your father.”
He doesn’t answer me.
“Ok, I’ll take that as a yes.” I say popping a chip in my mouth. “Hmm, your parent’s bought you your first house, sail and golf – maybe a 14 handicap – and you’re in a fraternity during your college years.”
He still doesn’t answer me.
“So I’ll take your silence as a yes.” I tell him.
“Ten, not 14.” He begrudgingly admits to me.
“Yes! I finally know something other than your name.” I tell him. “Well, let’s see what I can tell you about myself. I live in a crappy loft, I love painting and volunteering, I work at a small mom and pop shop, I am supposed to take over for my dad at the company, but I am not quite ready yet, I bombed my interview at Columbia today, I don’t golf, and I dumped my opportunist boyfriend because he was materialistic and greedy. That pretty much sums it up.”
Peter simply ignores me.
‘Seventeen more minutes, and we’ll be there.’ I tell myself. 'Please let this work!'