Page 57 of Between Here and There

We finally pull up to a gas station stopover as we hit hour three. The road hums beneath the tires as I cut into the parking lot, the sun now fully up, spilling soft gold across the pavement. It’s still early enough that the heat hasn’t settled in, just a warm breeze brushing against the car windows. Haley and Kate pile out for bathroom breaks, and I wait, expecting Emily to follow, but she doesn’t.

“You’re not going?” I ask, half-turning to look at her.

She shakes her head. “I was waiting for you to go first. You’ve been driving for hours; you probably need a break more than I do. Stretch a little, take a breather.”

It takes me a second to process that. It’s so like her to put everyone else’s comfort above her own. “We can both go, you know. I’ll just turn the car off,” I say, cutting the engine.

She laughs and nods. “Alright, fair. I’ll grab snacks while I’m at it. Need anything?”

“No, I’m good,” I say, though I could definitely use some coffee. But I hold back, knowing she’s likely grabbing snacks for everyone, not just herself.

We climb out of the car and head in opposite directions. The gas station is buzzing with life, a mid-morning surge of weekend travelers. Families spill out of vans, groggy kids trailing behind their parents.

When I get out of the restroom, I walk behind a couple holding hands. They’re both dressed for the beach, and it looks like they’re having a weekend trip too. I wonder what it would feel like to go on one. All my adventures were alone or with travel groups with strangers. I never even went on a trip with friends until today. And I never went on a trip with a girlfriend, that’s for sure.

What would it feel like to have that? A weekend trip with someone who isn’t just company butyours? Someone you can tease at the rest stop, split a bag of chips with, complain about the car music? And why does my mind go straight to Emily?

I shake the thought away and cross back to the car. Haley and Kate are already there, sprawled in their seats, arguing about what snack ratio is appropriate for a three-hour ride.

“There’s a science to this,” Kate insists, holding up a bag of chips.

“Science or not, you ate half of my last road trip snacks, so I don’t trust you,” Haley fires back.

I smirk, but don’t join in. Emily’s still not back.

“Lines were long in the ladies’ room,” Kate says, glancing out the window. “Plus, she’s getting more snacks.”

I get out of the car again to scan the area. I spot a small stall selling fries and other kinds of potatoes, and it’s like I can hear Emily’s voice talking about her love for wedges. It’s a detail I’ve tucked away without even thinking about it, so I buy a lot.

When I return to the car, she’s there, distributing the snacks in the backseat.

“There you are! What’s that?” she says, nodding toward the bag in my hands. Before I can answer, she holds up a cup of coffee. “I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I got you coffee. I just didn’t know how you take it, so I grabbed every milk option they had.” She holds up a handful of creamer packets and small cartons of oat and regular milk.

For a moment, I just stare at her. To be honest, I've never been the recipient of care and concern before. Attraction, sure. I get that. Lust, I get that a lot more. But this? Thoughtfulness? Someone going out of their way to make sure I can take my coffee exactly how I like it? That’s new.

At the same time, it hits me—I’m holding a bag of potato wedges because I remembered her offhand comment about her favorite snack. I’ve never been the guy who remembers these things, let alone go out of his way to buy them. Suddenly, our simple unresolved attraction isn’t just that anymore. It’s dangerously shifting to something else.

“So… milk?” she says, bringing me back to reality.

“Uh yeah, regular. I got it,” I say, reaching out for the coffee. She waves my hand off and proceeds to put the milk in it herself. After giving it a stir, she hands it to me.

“Here ya go,” she says.

“And here you go,” I say, exchanging the coffee with the bucket of wedges.

She beams, looking up at me with a sparkle in her eyes that wipes away any hesitation I had.

“Sorry,” Haley interrupts from the backseat, leaning forward with a smirk, her pink hair covering my view of Em. “I hate to interrupt what seems like a monumental moment in your relationship, but car number two is way ahead of us, and I kinda made a bet with Richard that we’d arrive first,” she says. “He gets insufferably smug.”

“Very true,” Kate chimes in, grinning from her seat. “Their betting wars are… exhausting to witness.”

I chuckle, and say, “Lucky for you, I don’t like losing.”

We finally arrive at the Mount Pulag National Park Visitor Center, where most cars stop before the trail begins. Nestled in Benguet, the coldest area in the Philippines, the air is crisp and biting even in the late afternoon, a stark contrast to the warmth we left behind in Magnolia Heights. I can already feel the chill through the car windows as we dig out our jackets, layering up in the car before we brave the cold outside.

When we step out, the environment hits us full force. The air is laced with the scent of pine and damp earth, mingling with a faint smoky aroma. A thick fog drifts through the trees, adding a dreamlike haze to the forest around us. The chatter of excited hikers mixes with the distant rustling of leaves as the wind picks up, sending a shiver through all of us.

I glance over at Emily, who’s already frowning and pulling her scarf tighter around her neck.

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