“Want me to make you another one?” the woman behind the counter called.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. Do you have a mop?” I threw the cup in the trash can.
“I’ll take care of it, hon. Why don’t you go clean up?” She motioned to my shirt.
The brown stain had soaked through, and I felt the cold drink suctioned to my stomach. This was not how I wanted Grey to see me for the first time.
“Thank you.” I smiled weakly. I didn’t intend for this stop to last this long, but I needed to change before I could get back on the road.
I walked to the truck and opened the passenger door. My overnight bag was on the floor. I had mainly packed comfortable clothes for the drive. I retrieved a pair of running shorts and a clean bra and tank top. I ducked into the women’s room. I never planned on using a truck stop shower, but after the day I’d had, a hot shower was in order. It was the only way to get the coffee smell off my skin and wash off the sticky sensation.
I paid seven dollars for the shower. It included a towel, soap, and a mini container of shampoo and conditioner. I felt a little bit like I was at summer camp again, as I slipped into my flip-flops and turned on the water.
The water felt good as it trickled off my skin. I hoped that the heat would loosen some of my shoulder muscles, enough to make the rest of the drive bearable. I stepped from the shower and towel dried my hair. The air conditioner in the truck would have to do the rest.
My bangs had grown quite a bit since their pre-spring break cut. I shook them out through my fingers. They were long enough I could swoop them to the side without them completely shielding my vision.
I shimmied into my pants, tugged on the sports bra and tank top. The girl staring back at me in the mirror looked wet and tired, but at least she wasn’t coffee-stained. I picked up my belongings and headed to the truck.
With the truck stop in Victoria behind me, I pointed the truck toward South Padre. By 2 a.m. I should be wrapped in Grey’s arms.
I blinked a few times harder than usual. It didn’t seem possible that after twenty-three hours of driving, the bridge that would carry me to South Padre was under the wheels of this huge-ass truck I was driving. I was almost delirious from the trip. My eyes blurry, my neck and shoulders on fire, my foot falling asleep off and on. But, I was here. I had made it.
I pulled out my phone to call Grey. I gripped the steering wheel with my left hand as I tapped his number on the screen and hit the speaker button. It rang four times before going to voicemail.
I stared at the phone. Sure, it was after two, but I thought he would be up. I dialed again. Voicemail.
I exhaled. At the end of the bridge, I turned left and dialed his number for the third time. He probably just needed a wakeup call. The island felt different. The cars that filled the parking lots during spring break were gone. The ‘no’ was dark on all of the ‘vacancy’ signs. I passed bars and tiki clubs that normally would be emptying at this time of night, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. I reached Grey’s voicemail again.
How could he be asleep? I had just spent two days of my life driving to him. Wrestling with an enormous truck, breaking down on the side of the road, navigating the ways of the trucker, and he was asleep? The tingles of numbness washed over to prickly stabs of anger. Or was it hurt?
I slowed as the lights of the Palm Palace glowed in front of me. The vacancy sign flashed neon red. I debated on how to drive into the parking lot. There was no way I was backing this monstrosity in there. I pulled alongside the odd-numbered rows of rooms. I noticed there were a few cars on the left. For a second, I was happy for Grey. He had customers.
I cut the engine and opened the door. The ocean air hit my nose and whipped over my skin. I could hear the waves pounding on the shore.
I couldn’t do much about this outfit, but I flattened the creases in my tank top and smoothed the top of my shorts. Room twenty-three, where I spent most of my spring break, looked dark. Across the parking lot was twenty-four, Grey’s room. The last place I stayed when I was here.
On the final morning of spring break, I left fighting tears and pain from the idea that I’d never see him again. He hadn’t come home the night before. I got on a plane to North Carolina with a heart broken into a million pieces. That had all seemed like such a long time ago until I stood in front of Grey’s room. Everything that led me to this moment was staring me in the face.
I had packed all I owned in a truck and driven halfway across the country to be with this man. This was about as real as it got.
I knocked on the door. “Grey. Grey, you there?” Silence.
I knocked again. I tried the knob and it turned. I expected to see him sleeping on the king-size bed, but the room was empty. The closet looked cleared out. The tools he usually kept beside the wall were gone. Instead of Grey, there was a note folded in half, propped on the pillow with a yellow rose.
I crossed the room and opened it.