Stranded and me

It was the middle of the day, they had been driving for quite a while when Petra started to swear. I was used to Petra’s moodiness and didn’t really pay any attention to the sudden outbreak; I just leaned back in the cool car and closed my eyes. There was only miles and miles of burnt desert outside the windows, I had seen it for hours already, and I was dehydrated and hungover.

“What the fuck Mia, the freaking engine just stopped” Petra looked at me, as if I knew something about the expensive car we had borrowed slash stolen from her father.

“Seriously Petra, you are the butch one, aren’t you supposed to know things about cars” I half jokingly said to her. Petra did not seem to appreciate my comment.

“You are such waste” she declared with a frown and kicked the cardoor open, the hot Nevada desert instantly invaded the car. I gasped, ever since I was a kid I couldn’t stand heat. I was thinking about something to reply to her when I saw a car far away on the highway, so I turned my head over and suggested that maybe Petra should flag the oncoming car down for us and please shut the door, so I at least could try to save some of the last cold air in the car. She ran her hand thru her short dark hair and exited the car with a grace, which was the reason I had fallen for her in the first place. Petra had the grace that few people were born with, when she walked she reminded me of a cat. Her olive skin glistering in the sun and the lean muscular body made me miss the days when we first met and we were both mysteries to each other.

I saw how she was waving her hands at the oncoming car, I also saw the car pass her, pissing her off, stomping the ground and kicking the dirt around. Petra was not the patient type, and nor was I, the car started to get hot and the Nevada June sun was just about to reach zenith. Fuck this, I thought to myself and opened the car door, just to regret it at the same second, the air was dry but hotter than in an oven, it sucked the moister out of my lungs and made me gasp. “Fuck this” this time I said it out loud, and it made Petra turn around, glaring at me, I shook my head.

“Why the hell did we think this was a good idea?” I don’t even know why I asked her the question, we both knew the answer, we had been high, on life, on coke, on wine on gambling on anything that Vegas had nurtured us with the past 42 hours. Showgirls had danced around us in VIP lounges where Petra had used her father’s credit card, and I had merely followed, with an amazement and excitement that I didn’t know I was capable of. Petra had invited strippers to our room, she did not seem to think that anything was over the top, and I was never the girl to turn down some fun. Sometimes I saw a strike of sadness in her eyes and I would lay my arms around her, for a second she would rest her head on my shoulder, just to seconds later shake her head and order a bottle of champagne.