I can’t believe my best friend is moving away.

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I was on my way back from the Eastwood Towne Centre outdoor mall where she broke the news to me. She broke it to me in American Eagle in the checkout aisle next to ten other girls.

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She was moving out of the country for five years. She’d always wanted to travel, and I wanted to be happy for her. I truly did, but all I could think about was this was the one thing that was going to split us apart for good. It was what happened when my aunts and uncles moved across the country. Some of them didn’t even come to holiday gatherings anymore. And me and Grace, we weren’t connected by blood; there was nothing forcing us back together. She was going to forget me. I was sure of it.

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All of these negative thoughts that were swirling around my head while I was driving became the scapegoats for what was about to happen in less than ten minutes.

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My phone was vibrating non-stop; it was in my back pocket, so I felt like I was getting a massage on my lower back. I had my phone on silent, so I had no clue why there was any noise coming out of it at all. For someone who’d grown up in the “technological era,” I might as well have been a seventy-year-old woman.

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Curling my fist, I picked the phone up, put it on speaker, and then put it face-down on the empty passenger seat next to me. My GPS was the only electronic thing I ever let myself use while driving. Ever. I had it set to a male Australian voice. You wouldn’t think anything bad could happen with how helicopter-mom-cautious I was but—

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It was my best friend’s voice coming through the phone. “Hey, I just wanted to check up on you. I know we ended things on a good note, but I don’t know, I still feel like you’re mad at me. I don’t want to fight.”

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“Mad? It’s more than that Grace.” I sighed. “You have to take me with you.”

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“I’m pretty sure your mom would report me for kidnapping,” she joked. I had my phone in the cup holder and it was jumping up and down.

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I was still on the highway and even semi-trucks were passing me. Some truck driver threw the bud of his cigarette out of his window and the wind threw it against the side of my car. And he was giving me the bird? Come on.

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I told myself to focus on the road. I felt like an octopus who just got all eight of her arms cut off.

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“Did you hear me?” Grace repeated.

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“Yeah, I’m driving. Sorry.”

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“You’re still not home yet?” she teased.

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I stared at my GPS and noticed the arrival time had doubled. “Guess I must’ve missed an exit. You know how much I suck at directions.”

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“But you have a GPS.”

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“And your point is?”

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“That you’re too directionally challenged. How would you ever make it in a foreign country anyway? I’m moving to the UK. They don’t even drive on the same side of the road as we do.”

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“I’d catch on. It’d be worth it.”

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“Look Callie, this was gonna happen eventually. Eventually we’re gonna have our own families and kids anyway, and I don’t know about your mom, but my mom sees her friends twice a year if she’s lucky. We might as well get used to the FaceTiming. It’s life.”

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I sped up a little bit, hitting the gas harder but not revving the engine. My GPS told me to take exit 77, so I drifted over to the right lane, accidentally cutting this woman off. I waved sorry but apologies were never accepted with a middle finger.

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“Whatever, can we talk about this later?” I asked her as I got a look at the exit I was told to get off at. It was Frandor, but it might as well have been New York City because that was what it looked like to me. There were more cars than I could keep track of, but what got me the most was the invisible paint on the lanes. I couldn’t tell which lane went where.

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“GPS,” I muttered, “It’d be really helpful if you told me where to turn left.”

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There were four lanes, so did the lane I was in mean left or did it mean straight? The road wasn’t a gameshow; I couldn’t go with my gut and hope to be right.

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“Yeah,” Grace finally answered, her response delayed. “You sound like my dog,” she teased, “You’re breathing super heavily. Everything okay?”

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“No. My GPS took me to a stupid place.” I was stopped at the left arrow that was red. I was losing all train of thought. For a second I convinced myself a red arrow meant go because it was an arrow and not the normal circular light. Thank god I didn’t actually go.  

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There were restaurants, jewelry stores, and four lanes everywhere. There were one-ways and signs and people who were homeless holding up signs and smiles. Way too much commotion.

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And at the same time I turned left, someone was going straight. I turned straight into their lane, side-swiping them. I could hear the banging of metal on metal, and it made my heart drop. My hands lost grip of the steering wheel and I didn’t know what to do or where to pull over. I eventually retired over to the curb, but I didn’t want to get out and face not only the people I hit, but everyone else too. Every car that passed by honked at me, and I thought I was going to fall into the road.

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I was lightheaded, unable to piece together what I’d just done.

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My best friend was no longer on speaker. The call must’ve ended. I wasn’t thinking about her moving anymore. I could only bring myself to think about little stupid things like the fact I wasn’t texting and driving but I knew if the person who got out of the dented car was an adult that they’d automatically assume that was what I was doing.

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It was very apparent to me now that wishing for a distraction would reward me with nothing more but the desire for even more distractions.

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Ugh.

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