“Like Beale Street and the Grand Canyon,” she tells him.
“The Grand Canyon's out of our way,” Cash interjects.
“Oh,” Ingrid says quietly. “Okay.”
“But,” Cash adds as he runs a hand through his hair. “When are we going to be this close to it again?”
I watch my girlfriend—the love of my life—give Cash a breathtaking smile just like she used to when she was in love with him. Something twists and turns inside my chest like a knife. And ithurts.
“Really?” She sounds disgustingly hopeful.
“Really,” Cash affirms, glancing over his shoulder at her. “I heard there's this cool place in Oklahoma City called Pops. It's off Route 66. There's a gigantic soda bottle out front. They also have some interesting flavors like Kitty Litter.”
“I'll add it to the list!” Ingrid wiggles excitedly in the backseat as she writes on a napkin. “We can also stop at Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo.”
“I've heard of that place,” Cash replies. “A group of artists buried like ten Cadillacs in the dirt.”
“Added!” Ingrid beams. “Anything else?”
I stare straight ahead at the empty highway, wondering why I thought this was a good idea.
“There's a tramway in New Mexico,” Cash mentions. He pulls it up on his phone. “Let me see where exactly.”
“Wilder,” Ingrid calls to me.
“Yeah?” I manage to get out through the haze of envy clouding my vision. One year ago,Iwas the one making a bucket list with her.Iwas the one making her smile. Now, it's Cash?
“Do you want to add anything?” Her wrist finds my shoulder and she rests it on me.
“Have fun,” I suggest sarcastically.
“Didn't you want to swim in the Pacific Ocean?” she remembers.
“Yeah,” I reply, clearing my throat. “Yeah, I did.”
“Sandia Peak Tramway,” Cash announces loudly. “It's in Albuquerque and it's the third longest single span in the world.”
“Oh,third?” Ingrid tuts. “So impressive.”
“Third longest span of what?” I scrunch my face.
“The ride,” Cash says, pretending to slap the back of my head. “Pay attention.”
“What would we be riding in?” I narrow my eyes at him.
Cash grins. “Three miles in a box together.”
“Oh.” Ingrid snorts. “Basically what we're doing now.”
“Yeah,” Cash says, voice entirely too hopeful for a guy who just told me I was pussy whipped. “Except we'll be suspended in the air.”
I roll my eyes. “Great.”
“It's okay, Wild.” Cash pats my arm. “I'll hold your hand if you get scared.”
“Just because I had a meltdown on the zipline at the park seven years ago,” I breathe heavily, “does not mean I am afraid of heights.”
“I guess we'll find out,” Cash chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest.
