Page 3 of Something Spontaneous

I take great pains to cover my face in my social media and videos, but there is always the chance that a sub could recognize me by my tattoos. Fortunately, he just seems to be your normal guy with a normal appreciative gaze and doesn’t give me the creeper vibes that make me worry that someone has recognized me. I’d put him in his mid-forties, and judging by his wedding ring and the picture of a wife and kids on his dash, he’s probably harmless.

That doesn’t mean I’m not taking precautions. I’ve lived for so long on the road and on my own, these things just come naturally. He’s probably perfectly harmless, but I want him to know that someone knows where I am. I scroll through the contacts on my phone, pop in one of my earbuds, and call Grace.

“Hey girl, what’s up?” Her bright and cheery voice comes through loud and clear. There’s a faint sound of guitar notes in the background and I smile, realizing that she’s probably with her husband, TJ, in his studio.

She’s been my ride or die since we met halfway through our freshman year of college in Utah. It seems like we do just about everything together when I’m anywhere close to crossing paths with her in the van. We’ve always been close, but after she nearly died in an avalanche earlier this year, it seems like our unspoken bond has grown even tighter. I was the one who was there to dig her out of the snow after a backcountry skiing mishap nearly killed her and our friend Kayleigh, something that Grace’s billionaire husband won’t let me forget. He keeps reminding me by randomly paying my tabs at campgrounds or sending me gifts. As close as we might be though, I still give her shit relentlessly.

“Oh, not much. Just mad at you and your best friend.”

She hums in confusion. “But you’re my best friend?”

I laugh. “Oh no. I mean your best friend, the universe and dear-mother-karma or whoever it is you’re letting guide you. That bitch screwed me over today.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My van broke down in New Mexico on my way to California. I’m sitting here in a tow truck with—” I look over at my unplanned travel partner. “Frank?”

He shakes his head. “Phil.”

Damn it. I knew it was at least an F sound. I mouth sorry at him and then look back down the road.

“Anyway, I’m with Phil here on our way to some small town, I’m sure.”

“Do you need help? We can come get you or⁠—”

I snort a laugh. “Girl, you guys are ten hours away. I’m not going to ask you to make that drive.”

“Who said anything about driving? You do remember that TJ has a jet, right?”

I smirk because that offer is right on cue and screams TJ. “I thought you hated that thing and how bad its carbon footprint is. Anyway, I should be fine.”

“Alright, well, let us know when you get there and what’s wrong with the van. If you’re going to be there for a while, maybe we can meet up on our way to the other festival after all? Speaking of destinations, do you know where you’re going?”

This is one reason I love Grace. She might only do van life part-time—especially now that she’s married to a former rockstar and billionaire philanthropist—but she gets it. There’s no such thing as being too safe living on the road.

I look back at Phil. “Where are you dropping me and the van off?”

He lifts a finger from the steering wheel and points out toward the mountains to the east. “There’s a small town about an hour from here. They have a garage that works on imports. They should be able to get you taken care of.”

Stupid German van. I love it, and it’s the best for this lifestyle, but it can be obnoxious to maintain in remote areas.

I look at the mountains in the direction that he pointed and notice that they are indeed getting closer. My eyes follow the beautiful rocky peaks that are bathed in light from the setting sun. Having grown up in this part of New Mexico, I’ve always appreciated its beautiful collage of earthy tones. I keep looking out on the horizon when my eyes land on one peak in particular.

Even with the sun setting, I would recognize Silver Peak anywhere, and it triggers alarm bells in my head. “What did you say the name of the town was?”

“I didn’t say the name actually, but it’s a little town called Sterling⁠—”

“Springs,” I blurt out, or more accurately, squeak out. “Fuck. Shit. Hey, Grace? I got to go.”

“Everything okay?” she asks, and I hear the hint of concern in her voice.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just need to talk to Frank here.”

“I thought it was Phil?” she says.

“Yeah, Phil. Sorry, anyway. I’ll share my location and call you when I get there. Love you, bye!”

I hang up the phone and take out my earbud and look back at Phil.