“No, I… was just thinking.” I swallow and scan the street as we drive back to the other side of town. “He needs to be easy to talk to. Like I can tell him anything and not worry that he’ll be judging me.”
“Yeah, definitely. Me too,” Tyrell’s voice rumbles. I really do love how deep it is. I always have. When I first met him, he’d hit puberty earlier than Atlas, and it was kind of hilarious. These two best friends, one towering over the other. This big bulk of Black muscle next to his skinny white friend. Tyrell’s voice was deep while Atlas had a softer, gentler sound, still cracking occasionally. He was all blond scruff with these haunted grayeyes, so different from the calm, brown gaze Tyrell would study me with.
“And what else?” I ask myself. “I want him to be chill, calm in a crisis. Smart, can think things through rather than just throwing himself into the fray.”
Huh. That’s interesting. You’re basically describing the opposite of Atlas. You realize that, right?
I stiffen, shaking my head and wrapping up the personality thing. Without being asked to, I shift to likes and dislikes.
“He needs to love music, not mind it playing all the time. He needs to enjoy dancing. He doesn’t have to love it, but he has to like it enough that if I’m in the mood to get down on the dance floor, I won’t be boogieing alone.”
Tyrell chuckles, tapping his thumb on the wheel as we slow at the set of traffic lights.
“He needs to want to travel. See the world with me.”
Tyrell whips his head to give me a surprised smile. “You want to travel?”
“Oh yeah.” I give him an excited grin. “I’ve been saving for years. I just haven’t found the guts to head off on my own.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere. Everywhere.”
“Come on, girl. Give me specific places. Are we talking Paris or Prague? Morocco or Thailand? What parts of the world do you really want to experience?”
“Okay…” An excited buzz travels through me as I shift in my seat. “Well, I want to see all of that. And the Pyramids of Giza and Petra. And I want to walk the streets of Pompeii and stand in the Colosseum in Rome. I want to paddleboard over crystal-clear waters in the Maldives, and even though I can’t ski or snowboard, I want to learn on the Swiss Alps.”
His lips curl into a smile as I talk, his head bobbing along like he totally understands my excitement.
“I want to swim with sharks in the Caribbean, and I want to hike the forests of New Zealand. I want to see the Taj Mahal with my own eyes, and I want to experience all the different cultures around the world. So, yeah… I really need someone who’s got the travel bug.”
“Wow.” Tyrell laughs. “I had no idea. Have you always been like this?” He glances at me, and I hitch my shoulder.
“I mean, I always loved finding out things about the world as a kid. And Atlas and I used to daydream about him becoming a famous rock star and touring the world. Oh! Iceland. I forgot to say I want to check out Scandinavia. Those countries look amazing. Such rugged terrain.”
He nods. “So, you and Atlas used to dream about tripping around the world, huh?”
“Well, it was mostly me, but Atlas loved the idea of touring with his band.” My voice trails off, that familiar sadness swamping me until Tyrell throws out a metaphorical hand and pulls me out of the mire.
“I want to travel too. Strap on a pack, get on plane, and… go see the world.”
“Really?” I look at him. “Since when?”
“I don’t know.” He tips his head, steering the car left and heading down Main Street. “I always thought football would be my everything, but after Atlas died… I don’t know what happened, but I just kind of lost my fire for it. I still love playing, and I’m glad I never bailed on my team. It’s just the pro life… all the attention, the cameras, the interviews. The intensity of it all.” He makes a clicking noise with his tongue. “I don’t want that shit. I want to be anonymous… And you know, you watch all these movies and documentaries in different parts of the world, and it just looks so awesome. I want to see those places with my own eyes.”
My insides warm, a soft glow spreading through me as I recognize that excitement in his voice. He gets it. And I get it. There’s so much more outside of this country, and I can’t believe I never knew he wanted to experience it as much as I did.
We sit in silence for a moment, and I watch the foot traffic ambling down the street. Saturdays are always busier. I glance at my watch, checking how much time I have before my shift starts.
I’m still good, so I relax back into my seat and hope Tyrell doesn’t drive too fast. I’m enjoying this ride.
“So, we need to find you a man who’s into travel and what else?”
“Um…” My lips twitch as I try to come up with more. “It’d be great if he could cook. I mean, I can, I just don’t love it.” I stick out my tongue and Tyrell laughs, shaking his head.
“Oh man, I know, right? I need to find me a woman who can cook.” He makes a face. “And that makes me sound like some 1950s sexist asshole, but I don’t love being in the kitchen either.”
“You’re not sexist.” I giggle, brushing my hand down his arm. “And while I’m over here listing all the things I want, what about you? What do you want in a girlfriend?”
