Page 2
Story: Wrong Turn
NOT MY COOKIES!
FALLON
“ B itch, you mean to tell me you’re a millennial who can’t read a map? We learned how to do that all throughout high school.” I can’t see Summer’s face at the moment, but I guarantee she’s rolled her eyes at Amber at least five times since leaving the city limits.
Summer doesn’t say a single word, she just glares at Amber in the driver’s seat.
Dead-eyed and stone-faced, she begins eating a sleeve of Oreo cookies.
The fucked up part is she doesn’t even like the damn cookies, but knows they’re one of Amber’s favourite snacks. Such a very passive-aggressive move.
“Stop eating my fucking cookies, you cunt, and watch the map,” Amber jokes. She tries to get a cookie for herself from Summer, who’s suddenly guarding them like she’s Gollum , and they’re the One Ring.
Those two are the last people who should be sitting in the front seat.
However, Summer gets car sick, and Amber is the mom of the group—having to be in charge of every detail.
Over her dead body will someone else be driving her baby.
She didn’t even show us the cabin we’re staying in for the week.
Apparently, it’s a surprise. If we end up getting kidnapped by some hillbillies, I’m fully prepared to blame the two in the front seats who planned this whole trip.
Summer finally finishes stuffing her face, turning to Amber, “If you think you can read a map any better, please, be my fucking guest. But you can do it from the back seat, bitch-tits.” She juts her thumb towards the back seat, and Amber scowls hard, eyes dramatically narrowing into slits.
Summer backed her into a corner, and she wants to strangle her for it.
“I’m sure Bridget wouldn’t mind switching places with you to drive. ”
Here we go again, I groan internally. Summer better be prepared to duck the bitch-slap that’s coming her way. Neither one of them are fond of Bridget, and don’t care enough to hide it, taking every available opportunity to make snarky remarks about her.
I silence the ‘ Elder Emo’ playlist thumping in my ears, popping my head in between the two front seats.
“Y’all know we’re literally in the middle of the fucking woods, on the side of a mountain, right?
I’m crammed in the back seat, like a hot, sweaty can of sardines.
Stuck between Bridget, who is snoring in my ear, and Savannah, who is literally sending the same picture of her boobs to five different guys.
Can you two please get your poop in a group? ”
Amber looks at Savannah in the rearview mirror, “You send your titties to as many guys you want! Let your slutty freak flag fly!” she says. Savannah lifts her eyes from her phone, giving Amber a thumbs up, earning a small smile in return.
Amber then shoots me the side eye, whispering that we shouldn’t have brought Bridget.
Summer mumbles something about how we couldn’t just leave her out, when she oh, so, graciously offered to help pay for gas.
The only reason any of us entertained the idea was because Savannah was fucking her brother.
I can barely hear them with the earbuds still in my ears, and the hum of the tires on the asphalt, so I push play on my music, leaving them to do what they do best: talk shit.
We’re driving for another half hour or so on the winding road, when Amber suddenly slams on the brakes, yanking the wheel, and taking a sharp left turn.
All of us in the backseat go flying into each other.
Summer is thrown sideways, bonking her head off the window, cursing under her breath about erratic driving.
“Dude! It would be extremely fucking helpful if you told me my turn was coming up a little sooner,” Amber shoots out.
Summer shrugs her reply, “My bad. I was catching up on watching masked men videos before we lost service. You know I need my fix, hoe. Look! This one is even pretending to fuck the camera while wearing a Ghostface mask. It’s your favourite.
” She wiggles the phone and her eyebrows at Amber, whose annoyance dissolves almost immediately.
Summer shoves the phone in Amber’s face, laughing.
Holy shit, so there is something that will make her take her eyes off the road.
Of course it’s a hot, homicidal maniac impersonator.
She peeks at the screen real fast, pretending to drool.
“Oh yes! Fuck me harder, you psycho! Yes, Ghostface. YES!” Amber squeals, bouncing up and down in her seat.
You honestly can’t take these two anywhere.
Savannah chimes in, “Make sure you send them to the group chat, so we can all enjoy them later. Maybe if we’re lucky, Fallon will finger-fuck herself so hard that stick up her ass will shoot right out.”
“Y’all are the worst. I don’t have a stick up my ass. I just don’t like entertaining fuck boys I find on some random dating app. Don’t y'all know that’s exactly how women get killed or go missing these days?” I retort.
Bridget pipes up, “She isn’t wrong guys. That’s exactly why I choose to stay home, and not go anywhere, or invite strangers over. I get my food delivered and everything. It might sound crazy, but one of y’all will end up on the news one day.”
If Amber brings up the woman who was murdered by the food delivery guy one more time, I swear I’m going to wrap her seat belt around her neck and strangle her, before steering all of us off the side of the mountain.
The last thing we need is a freaked out Bridget.
Thankfully, she stays silent. She must be thinking the same thing as me—zip your lips, Bridget.
We're all nerds in some sort of way. Summer likes her witchy shit, and astrology. Savannah, since learning of this trip into the woods, has let us all in on her insane amount of Bigfoot and cryptid knowledge. Bridget is into the arts, and never shuts up about returning to the stage. I’m boring, opting to knit and listen to audiobooks in my downtime, instead of going out to bars with the other girls.
Amber… well she knows an insane amount of information about serial killers, and all things true crime.
It’s not that I don’t like listening to them talk about their passions, I just don't want to hear any negativity right now. Honestly, I just want to hurry up and get to this cabin so I can make us all a drink, and relax. We’ve been on the road for at least five hours, and probably should’ve been there by now, or at least pretty close…
but Savannah’s had to stop at least ten times to pee.
You already know the two shit talkers in the front have made jokes about the possibility of her having a UTI.
I promise, it’s just how they show their affection.
“Uhh…I think I might have told you the wrong turn earlier.” Summer sheepishly glances up at Amber, taking her eyes off the map sent to us by the cabin rental company.
“I don’t even think this road is on the map.
” Amber is glaring daggers at her, and if she could incinerate someone with simply a look, that would be it… bye-bye Summer.
We really should’ve given someone else the copilot position. I love Summer to death, but she isn’t always the brightest crayon in the box.
I laugh quietly to myself as Amber looks over at her.
“No worries.” Uhh, there should definitely be worries when the group mom says not to worry.
It usually means she’s about three seconds away from snapping.
“We just passed a sign saying there’s a general store up ahead.
Maybe someone there can point us in the right direction. ”
Stop being so cheerful, you're weirding everyone out.
Amber cranks the music, Toxic pounding from the speakers, and she starts to bob her head, mouthing the lyrics, tuning everyone out. The four of us all risk a look at each other, silently agreeing not to do anything else to piss off the driver until we get to the cabin.