Indigo Road

Indigo Road

© 2015 RJ Jones.

Cover Artist

© 2015 Meredith Russell

Editor

Erika Orrick

First Edition December 2015

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or
locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover content is for illustrative purposes
only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All Rights Are Reserved. This book is
licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or
distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of
international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and
upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any book format cannot
be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any
information storage and retrieval system, without the written
permission of the author, except where permitted by law. To request
permission and all other inquiries, contact the author at
[email protected]

WARNING

Intended for an 18+ audience only. This
book contains material that
may be
offensive
to some and is intended for a mature, adult audience. It contains
graphic language, homosexual relations, explicit sexual content and
adult situations.

The author acknowledges the trademark
status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in
this work of fiction:

Best Western: Best Western
International, Inc.

Disneyland: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation

Super 8: WHG TM Corp.

VW Vanagon: Volkswagenwerk
Aktiengesellschaft

Tylenol: Johnson & Johnson

Post-it: 3M Company

For my husband, Scott.

My best friend.

I WAS
sweating like a
pig in my cap and gown as I waited in my seat for my division to be
called on stage. Perspiration dripped down my back, and I wriggled,
hoping the cotton of my shirt would catch the drips and take it
away from my skin. But from the smell around me, everyone else was
in the same predicament.

The
graduating students from division one were in line, creeping
forward as, slowly but surely, each graduate’s name could be heard
through the crackle of the microphone. It was dumb luck that Alex’s
and my graduating classes were in the same commencement program. I
looked up to see my best friend nearing the stage, getting ready to
receive his diploma. If Alex and I had our way, we’d bound out onto
the
stage
together.

Alex turned
to look at me, a
wide smile cutting
across his features. Giving me a double thumbs-up, he made his way
on stage as I—against college etiquette—whooped and hollered for
him.

Excitement
ran
through
my
veins like wildfire, and I continuously shifted in my seat, but not
only because I’d just finished four years of college. Next week
Alex and I were starting a yearlong road trip across the country.
Sure, there was still the little problem of not having a vehicle
yet, but Alex assured me we’d have one by the end of the week with
the help of Craigslist. Hopefully, someone had what we were looking
for and at the right price. We’d scrimped and saved every penny we
could for the last three years. Our plan was to take a year off and
we needed a reliable van—one that would fit a mattress in the back
so we could sleep and camp out—but not one that broke into our food
and gas money. Alex was an economics major and he had the whole
trip planned down to the last penny, with a ten percent margin, of
course. I knew he had an elaborate spreadsheet ready to track our
expenses.

Finally, my
name was called and I w
alked on stage, my
dress shoes clicking on the wooden floor as I looked out over the
sea of faces: friends and family who had come to witness this
historic moment in the lives of the graduating classes. Proud
smiles and the occasional teary face looked back at me. The large
auditorium with tiered seating had been filled to capacity with
thousands of guests and students plus the orchestra and choir.
After being presented my diploma and shaking the dean’s hand,
adrenaline prickled my skin, and it took all my effort to walk off
stage without whooping for joy. I made my way back to the
designated seating for graduating students and half listened to the
final speeches. Some were inspiring, but most were long and boring,
but honestly, I just wanted out of there. The real planning for the
road trip was waiting. Not to mention a graduation-cum-going away
party.

Not that
there was much to plan. Pack a duffel bag with a few clothes, throw
it in the yet-to-be-purchased van, and drive. The rest would sort
itself out on the road.

As the
orchestra started playing and the choir sang “
Hail Purdue,” the students made orderly lines and filed out
of the Elliot Hall of Music to the Purdue Bell Tower and lawn area
outside. Eager to celebrate, everyone broke ranks once we were in
the warm Indiana sun. The time had come to throw our caps in the
air and hug our friends and fellow students. For a brief
moment,
the clear blue
sky was filled with black squares and a scene from
The Birds
came to mind.

I was hugged
by lots of the girls, glossy lips were pressed to mine in brief
congratulatory kiss
es, which was fine by
me, but I scanned the noisy crowd for a mop of dirty-blond hair.
Alex wasn’t hard to find; he was over six foot and towered above
most everyone else. My skin tingled as I spotted him, and I pushed
through the excitable crowd of students, receiving a few more hugs
along the way. He was talking quietly
with
Jessica, his now probably
ex-girlfriend, whose makeup was a little smeared, a sheen of
moisture in her eyes. They hadn’t been dating long, and as far as I
knew it was more of a friends-with-benefits arrangement than
anything else. Although getting any information from Alex was like
getting blood from a stone. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell. Even
with me. She looked equally happy and sad, and I was hoping they’d
made the split. I mean, you can’t have a girlfriend when you’re
going to be traveling the country for the next twelve months.
That’s just stupid.

Jessica gave
me a sad smile and rose on tiptoes to kiss Alex’s cheek before
turning away, getting lost in a sea of caps and gowns,
tears
and
excitement.

“Hey,” I said, catching his attention.

“Horse.”

“
We did it.”
I grinned, nudging his arm, my excitement threatening to take over
once more.

“
Yes, we
did.” Alex swung his arm around my shoulder, a huge smile on his
face. “Let’s go find the folks.”

After a few
minutes of searching the crowd, we found our parents and Julie, my
sister. Alex’s cousin Calvin and his boyfriend, Davis, were there
too.

“
Oh
, honey, I’m so proud of you.
Of both of you,” Mom gushed, giving me a tight squeeze, only to
release me and hug Alex just as hard. Jenna Maybury, Alex’s mom,
was next, giving us both hard hugs.

“
Congratulations, son.” Dad wasn’t one for many words, but I
could see the pride shining in his eyes and that made my smile grow
that little bit bigger.

“
Well done,
Jerkoff.” Julie punched my arm, a smirk playing on her
lips.

“Thanks, Buttface,” I replied.

Julie rolled
her eyes.
“Seriously with the language?
You’re supposed to be a college-educated man now. What’s going to
happen when you have to start acting like it?”

I shrugged
and returned her half smile. “I’ll let you know this time next
year.”

I WAS
a little buzzed
after a few beers, the emotion of graduating still coursing through
me, as well as the anticipation of the upcoming trip. Our party was
a couple of nights after the ceremony and the
Mayburys
’ backyard was filled
with well-wishing friends and family. Lawn chairs and small tables
dotted the grass, and twinkle lights strung in various trees around
the fence line gave the area an ethereal feeling, despite the noisy
chatter of the guests. The food and alcohol flowed freely and I was
at risk of getting seriously drunk.

I looked over
to Alex, who was talking with his aunt and uncle under a tree, and
he smiled when he caught my gaze, his eyes reflecting the outdoor
lighting.

Just when I
thought I should back off the beers and take it easy—God knew I
didn’t want to be too hungover tomorrow as we looked for vans to
buy—a piercing car horn came from the front of the house. It was
loud, intrusive, and never ending, playing on my alcohol-drenched
nerves. My first thought
was that someone
had had
a heart attack at the wheel
and
was slumped over the
horn
. That was until I saw a dark
purply-blue Volkswagen van come through the back gates.

What the
…?

I turned to
find Alex
, but he was right next to me.
“What is that?”

“I have no fucking idea.”

I saw Dad and
Mr. Maybury exit the van and roll down a banner from the roof that
hid the windshield and hit the ground.

Congratulations Alex and Josh
was
written in spray paint on an old white sheet that was decorated
with different-colored spray-painted stars. There was a badly drawn
map of the country with lines crisscrossing through it indicating a
haphazard route.

“
Holy shit.
They bought us a van,” Alex whispered, a look of awe on his face.
My jaw went slack and I was surprised he had found his voice, as
mine seemed to have fled. “They bought us a freaking van!” Alex
vibrated next to me. I knew I should have stopped drinking earlier.
Our guests had started to congregate around us and the vehicle,
delight clear on their faces. They were obviously in on the
plan.