Free Destroy All Cars by Blake Nelson Page B

chair lift, I think about sophomore-year Christmas, when we went to Costa Rica on a different last-second vacation. Sadie and I had been going out for about three months at that time and it was weird because I didn’t know what I was supposed to do when we were apart. I called her a couple times, but my parents didn’t want to pay the international rates. So then I wrote her a letter. Like on paper, with a pen, and sent it through the mail. Sadie loved that. She never shut up about “the letter.” It was two pages, in my bad handwriting. It was pretty sappy, actually. It said things like I will love you for as long as the trees whisper in the moonlight, for as long as the mountains stand guard over the sea. Or some crap like that. I kid you not. I wrote that. I should give myself more credit. I was an okay boyfriend.
    That night we go back to the TeenZone and meet up with Libby’s friend, Tasha. It turns out she lives nearby and they know each other from horse camp. Tasha’s all right. She’s an eighth grader like Libby, but she’s more mature somehow. The three of us play video games and goof around in the lodge. Tasha kind of flirts with me. That’s a little weird. Also, she does that thing where she sort of challenges you, calling you on stuff. But I don’t mind. She’s funny. And it’s not like there’s anyone else to talk to.
    It snows all night on Wednesday, and Thursday is a spectacular day on the mountain. Libby and I ride up on the ski bus and I stare out the window at the mountain stream, semi-frozen, beside the road. I imagine myself as a young Lakota brave, picking my way along the creek bed on horseback. The warm sun, the blue sky, the muffled silence of the snowy forest—how permanent the natural world would seem to that person. And how wrong he would be.
    Later, after dinner, Libby and I walk back to the TeenZone. Libby catches a stray snowflake in her mouth on the road. She says to me, “See, the world is not in such bad shape.” Tasha is waiting for us and gets even more flirty when she sees me. She and I talk a lot that night. We keep ending up alone in odd places and having strange little conversations.
    TASHA: So how far have you gone?
    ME: What do you mean?
    TASHA: You know.
    ME: Not that far.
    TASHA: But you’re in high school! And you had a girlfriend!
    ME: Just because you’re in high school doesn’t mean that happens.
    TASHA: That’s not what I heard.
    ME: Well, you heard wrong.
    Or:
    TASHA: Do you think there’s a difference between being in love and being in lust?
    ME: I hope so.
    TASHA: What’s the difference?
    ME: Being in lust is just horniness.
    TASHA: But it’s not, though. When you’re in lust, it’s still about that one person. It’s like love but with your body.
    ME: Yeah, like you know so much about it.
    TASHA: I know a lot about it. More than you, from the sounds of it.
    Or:
    TASHA: Did you ever get so passionate with your girlfriend you couldn’t control yourself?
    ME: I can always control myself.
    TASHA: Is that really passion, though? Isn’t passion when you totally lose yourself in the other person?
    ME: On TV maybe. I don’t live on TV.
    TASHA: If I’m not intoxicated by a person, I won’t waste my time. Why should I?
    ME: That’s the kind of thing people say on TV.
    Later, when it’s time to go home, Tasha and I end up standing together on the steps in front of the lodge. We’re waiting for my sister, who’s inside looking for her coat. We stand for a moment surrounded by the snow and thetrees and the glowing moon. Suddenly, Tasha turns to me and gives me this dramatic look. It’s like she thinks we’re wildly in love and the whole night has been building up to this moment and now I’m supposed to take her into my arms and kiss her passionately.
    I’m like, dude, you’re fourteen.
    So we just stand there until my sister comes