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Roddy Garcia’s parents owned a small Filipino restaurant in East Los Angeles known as the “Bicol Express,” which had been in the Garcia family since the 1960s. His mother, Corazon Garcia, better known as “Cora”, had owned the restaurant since taking over in the late 90’s and her only son, Roddy, got to work at the restaurant holding various jobs until he settled as delivery driver. Whenever her son needed something, she would always be happy to provide, even when the money got tight sometimes. On a humid summer’s day, Roddy was busy helping his mom by refilling the ice dispensers.
Roddy stood precariously on a chair, his flip-flopped feet not helping his grip on the seat’s surface, as a 25-lb bag of ice was saddled on his shoulder. The lip of the ice hopper was just above his head, a scant few inches away, but the ice was causing plenty of fatigue due to the cold and the weight. Cora stood just a few inches away, her arms up and ready to catch her much taller, skinny son. Roddy stabled himself, looking down at his mom for a moment before giving a grunt and shoving the ice bag towards the ceiling. The plastic flopped forward and caught on the lip, and ice cubes began to rumble into the hopper. Cora sighed with relief as Roddy held the back steady.
“Thank you for this, Rodrigo.” She clapped her hands, “I don’t know why we haven’t had our ice shipment lately.”
“Anytime, mom!” Roddy grinned as he emptied the last of the bag into the hopper. He then hopped down and gave his mom a hug.
“Mmm, are you going to your beach today with your friends?” Cora asked, giving her son a hug back.
“Yeah,” Roddy nodded, “Speaking of, I’m going to need some ice.”
“Do you want one of the smaller bags in the back?” She offered, leading Roddy towards the fridge, “Looks like it’ll fit your cooler.”
“Ah, yes!” Roddy exclaimed as he hefted a small five-pound bag up, “This’ll do just fine. Thanks, mom!”
“Anytime, Rodrigo.” Cora nodded and gave her son a peck on the cheek. Roddy blushed and proceeded to pack some drinks cans and water bottles into the cooler, before heading outside through the backdoor.
Herbie was parked in the back, under the comforting shade of a tall tree from an apartment next to the restaurant. Upon hearing Roddy approaching, the bug weakly opened up his passenger door and folded the front seat forward, letting his new owner pack the cooler into the backseat. It was already tightly packed with beach towels, an umbrella poking out of the Bug’s open sunroof, a duffle bag of supplies like sunscreen, and now a large cooler. Wiping his hands, Roddy closed Herbie’s door and went around to nudge his left side.
“Come on, Herbie.” His owner prodded, “I know it’s hot, but we still gotta pick up Jackson and Charlie.”
The bug groaned as he sat up straight on his suspension. He then opened his front hood, emitting a creaking groan across his entire system that made Herbie look like he was yawning. Roddy rolled his eyes and smirked, then opened Herbie’s door and climbed into the driver’s seat. With a crank on the starter, Herbie’s engine roared then descended into a purr as Roddy got him into gear. It was going to be a long day for all of them, but Roddy hoped that the beach would be very relaxing for all of them.
(o\ ! /o)
After Jackson and Charlie were picked up from their houses, Herbie was now speeding down the 405 freeway, heading for Huntington Beach. Jackson had elected to wear just his swim trunks and a grey National Parks t-shirt, while Charlie decided to stay out of the water today and come dressed in a yellow summer blouse and blue denim shorts. Roddy wore flannel shorts over his trunks and a pale blue t-shirt over his own skinny body. As Herbie steered off the freeway and onto a road towards the Pacific Coast Highway, Jackson was slowly losing a battle of attrition in the backseat as the piles of stuff, now added by extra towels, a kite, and a fold-out wagon, was pressing him into Herbie’s rear passenger window.
“Um, can we take some of those turns a little softer, please?” Jackson begged, his shoulder being pressed by the cooler, “I’d rather not spend my beach time unfolding myself like an origami swan.”
“I’ll try to,” Roddy acknowledged, “But then again, forces of physics aren’t under my control.” Herbie then decided to shift himself to the left a little, forcing the objects off Jackson and making him sigh with relief.
“Thanks, Herbie.” He said, patting the little car’s roll-bar above him, “So, where are we going?”
“I found us a nice spot at Huntington Beach,” Charlie began, putting her phone away for now and pulling her sunglasses out, “It’s quiet, clean, and usually not crowded, even on summer days.”
“There must be a catch, though.” Roddy said as he turned Herbie onto the highway, “Maybe it’s like heavily polluted or something.”
“There used to be some oil wells smothering the beach,” Charlie replied, “But those were gone by the 50s when they scaled back. Now it’s one big nature preserve.”
As if on cue, the road opened up from beach town to a wide, tall-grassed swamp hugging the shore, with only the highway providing a break in the scenery. Jackson and Roddy oohed and ahhed at the natural splendour as they cruised towards the beach. The sun, by this point, was high in the sky and making the air flowing through Herbie’s windows and sunroof a little too warm. Jackson passed out sodas to Charlie and got one for himself, cooling themselves down. To pass the time, Roddy put on some music on Herbie’s radio that made the arrival to the beach near-instantaneous.
Herbie passed through the gate, now armed with his parking pass, and began the search for an optimal space. A Toyota lifeguard truck was seen rolling through one of the parking lots, its single occupant being a hard-nosed man with tinted sunglasses and a short crew cut. Herbie noticed him eying the little car with disdain before Roddy turned off the driveway and into one parking lot. Roddy feared, due to the nice weather, the parking lot would be full, but those fears were relieved as he found a spot between two large SUVs that was right on the curb nearest the beach. The group climbed out of Herbie and began gathering all their supplies. Jackson got the wagon out and unfolded it while Roddy packed the things inside. Charlie took the time to apply sunscreen on herself before getting her kite out. After applying his own sunscreen, Roddy turned to Herbie.
“Alright Herbie, just stay out here and, uh, don’t get in trouble.” He warned, “Some places don’t look too kindly on living cars.”
Herbie bleated an “Ok” and prepared to settle in for a nice, long, warm nap. He locked himself up, with his sunroof sliding forward and his windows going up, and tried to maximize as much shade as he could from the two big trucks on either side. Roddy, Charlie, and Jackson went off afterwards to go find a spot on the beach and start their relaxation. After a few minutes of waiting, and ensuring that Roddy was well out of sight by now, Herbie decided that he was through with baking out in the hot sun. His metal skin was already so hot one could fry an egg on it, and the beautiful, blue Pacific was just a mere two hundred feet away. He knew what he had to do.
However, his impromptu plan came to a bit of a snag once Herbie tried to back up. A loud horn blared behind him as the bug saw the lifeguard’s Toyota from earlier screech to a stop behind him. Herbie quietly stood in place, hiding his fear, as the imposing man got out from his truck and walked towards him. A scowl was across the man’s face, his patience already thin from having to work in the hot sun but now he almost got hit by a rogue car. The lifeguard was about to give the driver of this strange bug a good talking to, but soon realized there was nobody in the car.
“Huh, weird…” He muttered as he got his notepad out. He wrote “Warning - Fix your parking brake - Lifeguard Mike” on the small paper before tearing it out and attaching it to Herbie’s windshield. He then went to Herbie’s rear and put both hands up against the bug’s engine hood, not minding the heat at all. With a sudden shove, Herbie was re-parked back into his original spot. As Lifeguard Mike left, he grumbled to himself, “They don’t pay me enough for this job…”
Meanwhile, Roddy and Jackson were both down to their trunks and spending time out in the water, getting to grips with the cold Pacific. Charlie was minding the camp, but was more preoccupied with flying her butterfly-shaped kite as high as she could go. Roddy shivered as he stepped deeper and deeper into the ocean, especially feeling the chill along his wind-blown shoulders.
“Roddy, don’t go in too deep!” Jackson warned, “You might drown!”
“Hey, don’t go rangering me and warning me not to do things!” Roddy yelled back as he continued to inch deeper still, “You’re lucky because you’re so tall!”
“Not really, I’m barely 5’7!” Jackson replied before wading over to catch up with Roddy. As the two were now waist deep in water, he said in an informative tone, “See, what you got to do is make sure you have a firm hold on the sand below.” As he continued to explain, Roddy couldn’t help but notice a large wave coming behind Jackson. Thinking it would be funnier this way, Roddy told him nothing but just let Jackson continue his ranger talk.
“...Anyway, you see how I’m stable?” Jackson continued, now up to his navel in the water, “That means the water can’t knock me d-!” Roddy swam out of the way as Jackson was thrown forward, tumbling in the water before being washed up on shore on his side. Roddy stood up out of the water, having squatted when the wave came by and enjoying its cold chill and approached Jackson.
“Stable, you said?” He smirked.
“Nooo…” Jackson groaned with embarrassment.
(o\ ! /o)
Herbie angled his side and rear-view mirror to make sure the lifeguard did not return; his scowl alone sent shivers up his suspension. If going backwards was not going to work with these two big SUVs in the way, he would have to go forward. His headlights scanned around and soon found a break in the concrete wall that Roddy and his friends walked through to exit the beach. Between it and the sand was a paved bike path, but Herbie figured he could dodge a few errant bikers.
Gingerly, he raised his tires up and rolled his rear wheels forward, planting his front tires onto the concrete sidewalk. He checked around him again. The bug was completely alone, as even families heading for the beach were not noticing him. Herbie wiped his windscreen with one wiper, as if wiping sweat off his brow, and continued onward, sneaking his way onto the bike lane. However, Herbie didn’t notice another bicyclist suddenly stray into his path. The unfortunate man yelped as he hit Herbie’s fender and was thrown off his bike forcefully. He sailed over the Bug’s hood like a seagull and landed roughly on his butt a few feet away. The man groaned and doubled over as Herbie realized his mistake and backed up quietly. Okay, no bike lane this time. As the man regained his bearings and stood up, he looked behind him to find that there was no more random white car, only his bike toppled to the ground.
“Huh…” He said, “What the heck was that?”
If the direct route to the ocean was not an option anymore, Herbie decided to go around to another entrance and, this time, check his blind spots when he crossed the wall. Lifeguard Mike was somewhere else, so it gave Herbie the chance to sneak through another entrance, farther down. The bug waited as a couple bicyclists pedaled past, then a group that were all huddled together like an amorphous blob. One more double check and Herbie quietly revved onto the beach, now heading for the water and where he thought Roddy’s camp might be. The sand crunched softly under Herbie’s tires, forcing his steering wheel to jiggle around as he sailed slowly over the fine particulate. After getting fifty feet from the wall, Herbie turned back to see if the lifeguard was still around.
As his luck would have it, Lifeguard Mike was coming back around on patrol. Already fearing the consequences if he was caught, Herbie hightailed it behind a lifeguard shack and hid behind it. He dug in his tires, lowering himself to get a good view of the parking lot and watched as Lifeguard Mike stopped at his parking space, got out, questioned his own sanity, then figure that whatever was there might have gone already. As he watched the truck drive away, Herbie sighed with relief and was prepared to turn towards the sea when he saw Roddy suddenly standing there, his arms crossed. The bug jumped back, nudging the lifeguard shack.
“What’re you doing out here, Herbie?” Roddy asked, more confused than annoyed, “I thought I told you to stay over in your spot.”
Herbie whimpered, lowering his front submissively. His headlights swiveled towards the water, trying to point Roddy’s attention to them, but to no avail.
“Go back before anyone finds you,” Roddy pointed, acting like a parent now, “And if you behave, I probably won’t have to lecture you at home. Be a good car, ok?” Then he turned around and walked back towards the camp.
Herbie watched as his owner wandered away, then flapped his hood and let out a raspberry. He wasn’t going to let Roddy tell him what to do, this Volkswagen wasn’t a child. Heck, he was older than Roddy by a considerable amount. Now Herbie was determined to reach the water and cool off, and he needed an answer fast. He found one quicker than expected, as he watched a woman emerge from a rather large, yellow changing tent. The tent was massive, the size of a walk-in closet, and the woman emerging from it looked to be someone of wealth and status. It was perfect. Herbie switched his radio on and began playing the “Mission: Impossible” theme. It was time for a heist.
“...Yeah, I know right, and they got me on this beach but of course I had to bring my clothes,” The debutante drawled into her smartphone, “And, like, I had to, like get here early so I could pick out what clothes I wanted.” As she walked down towards the water, the woman did not notice the car behind her enter her tent and then suddenly make off with it, leaving her dresses and clothes-rack in the sand. She was about to turn around, but then returned to her phone and replied angrily, “No, I don’t have a waterproof case!”
Herbie was beside himself with glee, moving the big yellow tent along the sand like a caravan. It had worked! Absolutely worked! It was a pity he had to leave that loud lady’s clothes in the sand, but she wouldn’t notice, right? The scream of terror behind him clearly made him wrong, and the bug awkwardly shuffled away as the debutante waved her arms and screamed at her escaping tent. The screams reached the ears of Lifeguard Mike, who saw the tent steering towards the water and immediately swerved his Toyota pickup to intercept.
Herbie heard the siren behind him and suddenly panicked, abandoning the tent and heading for the water anyway. Baffled beachgoers pulled themselves out of the way of the mad car as Charlie turned her head to watch the Beetle careen down the shore and splash into the water. Upon seeing it, she shook her head.
“Roddy’s in trou-ble…” She sang to herself before returning to her kite flying.
Roddy was in a state of shock as he watched Herbie burst in from the sandy ridge and swim into the water. He stood up to his waist in the cold Pacific Ocean, mouth agape as he just watched Herbie putter off into the water like a duck, steam rising from his hot metal skin. Lifeguard Mike stopped at the ridge of the hill and climbed out of his truck, watching the bug swim around and away from him. He grit his teeth, stomping down the sandbank with a face so angry it could probably set Herbie on fire. Roddy turned his head to see the lifeguard and suddenly ran towards him, leaving Jackson behind who, too, was in a state of shock.
“Mr. Lifeguard, please!” Roddy shouted, cutting Lifeguard Mike off just before the water, “Hold on a minute! I can explain anything?” Mike stopped and peered down at a nervous Roddy.
“That your car?” He growled, pointing at Herbie.
“Y-yeah…” Roddy confirmed, trying his best not to show fear.
“If that’s your car, what’s it doin’ out there and you here?” Mike asked through gritted teeth, poking Roddy so hard in the chest that he fell onto his butt.
“Uh, I can.. Uh, maybe explain that too…?” Roddy stammered, his focus broken by the sudden poke. Mike huffed and looked out to Herbie swimming in a circle.
“No need to explain.” The lifeguard seethed, “Far as I see it, you’re responsible for your own property, including your car. You’re lucky I’m merciful, otherwise who knows how much you’d pay for the stuff your car’s probably ruined. Get it off the beach, and have a nice day.” Never had Roddy heard “Have a nice day” been said with so much poison, but now, as more beachgoers began to look towards Roddy, he began to feel incredibly embarrassed. Even Herbie, who was enjoying cooling off, saw his owner standing forlorn in the sand and realized that he screwed up massively.
The bug drove back onto shore, slowly approaching Roddy standing there. Upon seeing the hard, indeterminate look on his face, Herbie turned his headlights away, backed up, and headed back to the parking lot. Jackson noticed this and led Roddy back to the camp where Charlie had taken her kite down and was waiting for them. The two sat and knelt down on Roddy’s sides and just watched as their friend stared out into the ocean.
“You ok, Rod?” Jackson wondered, putting his hand on Roddy’s shoulder. Roddy shook his head.
“I’m sure it’ll be ok, Roddy.” Charlie nodded, holding his hand, “At least you weren’t fined or anything.”
“I wish I was.” Roddy replied flatly, leaving his thoughts there. He shrugged, and both Jackson and Charlie knew it would be a while until Roddy could get his spirits back up. Jackson reached into the cooler and handed out some drinks, and all three drank and whiled the silence away.
Herbie, meanwhile, felt awful for himself too. He sat in his parking spot once more for almost an hour, completely collapsed on his suspension, and his bumper curled downward slightly. His own eagerness had embarrassed his owner, if he had just stayed still then Roddy wouldn’t probably… No. Herbie couldn’t bring himself to even think about hate right now. Negativity wasn’t going to help the fact he hurt his owner’s feelings. That is, until a bright idea entered Herbie’s carburetor: If he couldn’t talk to Roddy to help him feel better, he knew someone who could, and he knew just who to find.
(o\ ! /o)
Lifeguard Mike was busy sorting papers up at the main station. He didn’t think he’d have to deal with silly cars trying to swim and endangering his beach today. After all, he was only doing his duty in keeping the beach safe, nothing more. After filing his paper away, Mike returned outside to do his last patrol of his shift when he saw something he wished he did not see anymore. Herbie was parked out in front of his truck, blocking the way. Assuming that kid who owned it was getting back at him for being a dick, Mike was fully prepared to write an actual citation as legally high as he could make it. However, his pen stopped when he saw Herbie open his driver’s door and beep at him.
“What the…?” Mike stopped, approaching the car slowly and checking for any kind of special effect trickery, “This ain’t some prank, is it?” Herbie beeped once, “no”, in response and Mike rubbed his head, actually seeing the horn ring depress on the Beetle’s steering wheel. “Well, uh,” He began, “If it’s that important, just… promise you won’t run over anyone?” Two beeps, clearly a yes.
Against his own better judgement, the lifeguard softened his face and grabbed a spare beacon out of his office. He plugged it into Herbie’s cigarette lighter and switched it on, as the bug drove back towards the camp. As he drove, Mike couldn’t help but wonder why a car would be so eager to run into the water. As he lowered the window for some air, his skin suddenly got in contact with Herbie’s heated surface and he quickly put his arm back in the car.
“Ow,” Mike hissed, shaking his slightly-singed arm then saying, “Oh, so that’s why, then. You just wanted to cool off, didn’t you?” Herbie beeped yes and Mike replied, “That, I can definitely understand.”
Back at the camp, Roddy was feeling a little better. After a couple of drinks and snacks, he was now engaging Jackson in a spirited discussion about Formula 1 racing. As they discussed, the two would explain to Charlie certain elements she didn’t understand, and Charlie would nod and sip her drink politely, learning all she could. Jackson was just as engaged, if only to keep Roddy’s mood up until they left for home.
“If he was alive, Jim Clark would absolutely beat anyone,” Jackson argued, “Especially since he doesn’t have as much racing series to go on as back then.”
“True,” Roddy nodded, sipping his water bottle, “But then what about Senna? Maniac on the track, truly the face of Formula 1.”
“Face of safety, probably.” Jackson chuckled, getting a giggle out of Roddy too, “But I hear you.” Suddenly, he cocked his head up again.
“What’s that?” Roddy wondered, turning to where Jackson was facing.
“Oh, here comes more trouble.” Charlie sighed, watching Herbie approach their camp. However, upon seeing the lifeguard inside, she was confused, “Hang on, what’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Roddy muttered, feeling his spirits fading again as he stood up and dusted the sand off himself, “But I hope it’s something good.”
Mike thanked Herbie as he climbed out and closed his door, then turned to face Roddy’s gloomy face. Putting on the best public face he could, the lifeguard cleared his throat.
“I’m, uh, sorry if I was harsh on you before.” Mike apologized.
“Don’t be.” Roddy waved it off, “I couldn’t control my car and he could have been a danger to everyone on here.”
“Well, it’s funny.” Mike added, “Your car found me and, well, promised not to run over anyone. I’d think it’s learned its lesson.” Herbie beeped twice in affirmation, causing Roddy to look at him.
“Yeah, but I’m still in trouble, aren’t I?” He said, “Like, vandalism of property or loitering or reckless endangerment even?”
“I mean, yes, you are guilty of all of those,” Mike admitted, “And it’d have to be my job to write you up a citation and you’d probably be on probation or maybe even jail time.” As he said this, he wrote something in his citation book that made Roddy’s heart sink. However, upon being handed the book, Mike surprised him by adding, “But maybe we could just put this all in writing.”
“‘I, signer,’” Roddy read aloud, “‘promise that when I take my car to the beach next time, please provide acceptable cooling for hot days.’” He then looked up at Mike and asked, “Wait, seriously?”
“Seriously,” The lifeguard replied, crossing his arms, “Honestly, I could just… impound your car right now, fine you and call it a day, and I’d get paid for it. However, I saw both you and this little guy learn your lessons and just takes whatever to ensure the safety of my beach.” Mike padded Herbie’s fender before adding, “It is kind of weird though, seeing as there’s laws governing cars but not, well, living ones. I just hope you two can stay out of trouble.”
“Oh, certainly can.” Roddy assured, shaking Mike’s hand, “Thank you so much for helping us.”
“Definitely!” Jackson interjected, offering the lifeguard a drink, “Soda?”
“No thanks.” Mike gently turned down, “Now I’m gonna go back into my office, finish my shift, and then head home. Next time I see you guys out here, this little one better be careful not to hurt anyone.” He then turned to Herbie, gently but firmly saying, “Got that, bug?” Herbie beeped an eager “yes!”
“Nice.” Mike nodded and got up. Saluting the three humans and the car, he said his goodbyes and departed for his office.
“Well,” Charlie whistled, looking up at the bright afternoon sun still in the sky, “We still got a bunch of time left before dark. What’s say we keep having some fun?”
“Sounds like a plan.” Roddy nodded, then looked to Herbie, “You still wanna cool off?” Herbie thought for a minute, then nodded, prompting Roddy to say, “Ok, back in the water! Just be sure to tell me of any rust.”
Herbie joined Roddy and Jackson in the water, gently rolling into the sea and then puttering around out towards the waves. Now the bug could really relax, his wheels dangling in the water while his exhaust pipes bubbled and burbled, every wave making Herbie bob up and down like a rubber duck. Roddy kicked out towards Herbie and climbed up onto the bug’s front, making sure not to slip on the sloping front hood. Seeing a big wave coming towards them, Roddy pointed it out to Herbie and the bug obediently swam out towards it. Just as the wave began to crest, Herbie turned towards shore and Roddy surfed the little car all the way back to the beach, hitting the sand with a gentle thud. As Roddy jumped off, he could hear the applause from little kids who had gathered to see Herbie surfing.
“That was cool!” One girl with pigtails yelled out.
“Can we go too?” Asked a smaller boy, nudging his older brother with him. Roddy looked back to Herbie, who simply opened his doors and sunroof.
“Oh, please, can we go?” Begged another child, already pulling at his mom’s arm.
“I guess why not?” Roddy grinned, “Just ask your parents first!”
The rest of the afternoon was spent relaxing on the beach as Roddy watched Herbie give little boat tours with the children seated inside. Herbie felt amazing bobbing and swimming about, finally feeling all cooled off as the kids cheered and stuck their hands out, waving at their parents on shore. After a few minutes, Herbie emerged back on shore and released the kids, only to take in a new group for a little tour. After the third round, Herbie emerged back on the beach and parked up next to Roddy’s camp, where the kids began to build a sand-bug next to Herbie.
By sunset, the kids had waved goodbye to go home while Roddy and his friends began to pack up their mess. Even Herbie was beginning to feel a little filthy, covered in sand dust, salt water, and his tires were caked with sand. The supplies were soon piled into the back of the bug, with the towels strung along his door window sills. After the long trudge to the showers, Charlie washed the sand off her legs as Jackson and Roddy stuck to washing their body clean of sand and the sun’s scent. Herbie, being too big to shower, instead stuck his tires into the nearest shower stream and washed the sand out of his treads. Upon seeing this, Roddy chuckled in amusement.
“Cute,” He commented, to which Herbie flashed his turn signals, almost blushing.
Everyone was exhausted on the drive home, even Herbie who was doing the driving himself. Roddy elected to take a nap in the driver’s seat, and it was only due to an errant turn that he ended up leaning on a sleeping Charlie’s shoulder. Jackson was using one of his sandy towels for a pillow, propped upright by the amount of detritus in the backseat and lulled to sleep by the road vibration. Herbie even found it hard to keep his headlights focused on the road. The day had been filled with plenty of stress, sadness, and happiness, it was all so hard for the old car to keep up with. Slowing down on the freeway by a fraction, Herbie opened his hood slightly to let out another yawn before shutting it and dutifully heading for Charlie’s house first in Long Beach.
The little car rolled up outside Charlie’s apartment complex and came to a stop. Roddy opened his eyes slightly and looked out into the darkness, before realizing whose shoulder he was laying on. Jumping back slightly, he opened Herbie’s door and yawned, stretching out his limbs. Charlie seemed to notice the absence of someone on her shoulder as she too yawned and woke up, looking around the block.
“Mmm, where are we?” She wondered, stepping out of the bug. It was only when she looked up did she realize, “Oh, I’m home now.”
“Oh yeah,” Roddy said, standing against Herbie’s left fender, across from Charlie, “I guess Herbie decided to drop you off first.”
“Smart car.” Charlie smiled before going to collect her things. As she gathered everything, she asked, “You gonna be around this weekend?”
“Maybe,” Roddy shrugged noncommittally, “We’ll see what the week brings first.”
“Sounds good.” Charlie nodded, giving Roddy one last smile before heading for her apartment, saying, “Night!”
“Night.” Roddy replied, a lot quieter as he waved weakly at her. He watched as Charlie climbed up the stairs to the second level and disappear behind her apartment door, then sat back down in Herbie and put his seatbelt on.
“So,” Jackson’s voice suddenly cut through, “Getting cuddly with Charlie, dude?” Roddy jumped in shock.
“Dude, I thought you were asleep!” He hissed in a low voice.
“I mean, I was until the car stopped.” Jackson replied, a cocky smirk on his face, “How was Charlie’s shoulder?”
“Oh, please,” Roddy scoffed as he got Herbie into gear, “If I knew I was in love with Charlie, I’d already know.”
“C’mon, even Herbie could probably see it, can’t you Herbie?” Jackson asked, patting Herbie’s rollbar again. A wolf-whistle of a beep emitted from the Beetle’s horn, making Roddy blush.
“H-hey!” He said to Jackson, flustered, “Don’t encourage him!” Herbie then replied cheekily with a beeped rendition of the Wedding March, causing Jackson to laugh and Roddy to facepalm.
“You guys, c’mon.” Roddy exasperatedly said as he drove Jackson home. Far as he knew, Charlie was a friend and had been since high school. But a “maybe” floated in the back of his mind, making Roddy grip Herbie’s steering wheel tighter. He decided to put that thought away for now and focus on driving, there would be time in the future to think about if he was in love.
(o\ |The End|/o)