Fine And Well

Chen Su hates driving.

In this way, the move from Brooklyn was a small mercy. Chen had refused to drive in Bushwick, let alone park. She always let Miles take the wheel, and she would be gnawing at her thumbnail and staring in the side view mirror as he drove like it was nothing. He always pulled or backed into spots so fast, his hand nearly a blur on the wheel like he was spinning a pirate’s ship wheel in a cartoon. He’d glance over and start laughing that ridiculous, obnoxious laugh of his when he saw Chen all but flailing in her seat in an ultimate freakout, telling him to not look at her, to focus on parking without killing them both instead. Annoyingly, the park was nearly perfect every time.

But Staten Island was different. The roads, despite the potholes and the poor pavement jobs that hadn’t been remedied in years, were wider, and even the busiest streets were emptier—even with the burrow’s current overpopulation problem. Which was, now that Chen thinks about it, the very problem her conniving mother had tried to use against her in order to keep her from leaving the burrow. It’s just a smaller Manhattan now, she claimed to Chen in Mandarin, her tiny arms outstretched to showcase the vastness of this bustling island. It took Chen a whole three days to begin to suspect the dire population issue of her mother’s insistence was either a heavily exaggerated argument or a lie.

But the parking spots were normal sized here. They weren’t just a sliver of space in between cars that you see and resign yourself into wedging your car in between. Crown Heights was a bad enough problem, but Park Slope? Traveling around the block four times, attempting a park, giving up, and making the defeated, resentful drive towards the nearest parking garage, every single time she went to visit her parents? The memories alone are enough to make Chen fume.

Chen pulls over to the side of the big tan building. She taps her fingers urgently against the wheel and waits for a few minutes until she sees an unmistakable head of bleached blonde hair.

Heart pounding, she leans forward and honks the horn. Her friend’s head snaps over, and their eyes meet in an instant.

She quickly heads over to her car and yanks the door open.

“Took you long enough,” she says, a wry smile twisting her face.

Chen throws her arms around her, all but pulling her into the car.

“Mary, oh my god,” she cries, squeezing her even tighter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Mary grits out, her voice muffled in pain. “Just watch the rib.”

Chen released her immediately. “You scared the shit out of me when I heard.”

Mary yanks the car door shut behind her. “I scare the shit out of myself sometimes.”

“How were you able to just leave?” Chen demands. “I thought for sure you were going to call me to come in and pick you up.”

“It’s just a broken rib,” Mary says, shrugging. “But I thought so too. I was thinking the absolute worst. I thought they were going to… I don’t know, 5150 me or something. Good thing I had weed in my system, I guess. Since… what happened was something way easier to blame any sort of drugs on.”

Chen’s lip twitches.

“So you lied,” she says. “To the doctors.”

Her friend frowns at her. “I didn’t lie.”

“First of all—yeah, it’s a really great thing they caught you with weed in your system, Mary. Real great. Even though it was only legalized here six months ago. That’s not dangerous at all.”

“Well. Good thing it… didn’t happen six months ago?”

Chen folds her arms. “And 5150s are a California thing.”

“Oh,” Mary says, mildly sheepish.

“So you’re saying it was the weed,” Chen clarifies.

“What?”

“It was the weed that made you jump out of the back of a moving car?” Mary opens her mouth; Chen beats her to it. “And go running into the trees in the middle of a thunderstorm?”

Mary gives her a look that tells her she doesn’t want to talk about it. Chen looks at her right back defiantly, and her message of You don’t have a choice must be communicated back right away, because she sighs and immediately relents. “Of course it wasn’t.”

Chen rubs her left temple. “So what was it?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me, Mary,” Chen says softly. “Please.”

She can see Mary closing up and turning cold, like clay to stone before her very eyes. “Can we maybe not do this here?”

“I’m here right now to take you home. I drove all the way here, and you know how much I hate driving. If I can do this for you, you can try to tell me why I have to.”

Mary stares at her for a few more long moments, no doubt thinking of how to get out of it.

“Let’s wait until we get home,” she says finally. “Please? And then we can talk about everything.”

“So you can use Miles to weasel your way out of this conversation?” Chen demands, nearly taking Mary’s eye out with the accusational point of her finger. “Like you do every single time?”

“No, I promise.” Mary cracks her pointer finger with her thumb, a cloudy expression on her face. “Something tells me Miles is not going to let it go this time, anyway.”

Chen blows out a breath through her mouth, remembering the look on Miles’ face when she’d told him what had happened. Mary might be right about that.

“Fine,” she agrees sullenly.

“Thank you,” Mary says sincerely. She draws her distant gaze from the windshield back to Chen. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course I know that.”

“I don’t expect you to come and save me every time I crash and fall.” Mary props her head against her elbow on the window. “I don’t take it for granted, Chen. I never have.”

“I know, Mary,” Chen says again. Smiling despite herself, she reaches out a long purple nail and taps the tip of Mary’s flushed nose, reddened at the tip from the cold. “You’re cute.”

“I know,” she affirms easily.

Chen rolls her eyes, yanking the car into drive. “Okay.”

Her best friend leans in close, acting like her usual annoying self. “I didn't say stop.”

The young woman cranes her head away from her, squinting into the rearview mirror. “Put on your seatbelt, idiot.”

“I’d better,” Mary remarks, pulling the belt over herself and obediently clicking it into place. “If you’re driving.”

With the grace of a saint, Chen ignores her to fiddle with Bluetooth on her car screen. “Slipknot or Korn?”

“What the hell do you mean, Slipknot or Korn?” Mary asks accusingly. “I’m the one who just got out of the hospital.” She gestures to her side. “I’m hurt.”

Chen gives her a dirty look. “And why is that, again?”

To his credit, Mary avoids the question by giving the previous one genuine contemplation. After a few seconds, she lets out a sigh.

“Korn,” she decides, with the air of a defeated warrior. She puts a hand over her injured rib and closes her eyes. “Play that one song I like.”

Smiling triumphantly, Chen obliges and cranks up Freak On A Leash before yanking the car into drive.

—

Or, mental health scares can be scary, and that’s what inspired this little piece for me.

Hope you guys enjoyed! You can check out my unofficial challenge down below if you are interested in writing about some of your favorite music!