Too Carla's by Robert J Lowe

• Read an Excerpt

Read an Excerpt

We drove for miles in silence, just listening to songs on the radio. The Loggins and Messina tape was tired; it got played way too many times. I took as many back roads as I could trying to prolong the inevitable, that reunion with Carla and her Mom. I don't even know why I cared, but it seemed that I had made some sort of commitment to Carla, now I was involved. We stopped one last time in Fredricksburg Virginia. Carla went and got two six-packs of beer and brought them back and put them on ice in the bathroom sink. Between us we finished them all. Carla cried that night, it was frustrating. I had to take her back, or could I be the total rebel and turn around, after all. I had most of the hundred dollars my father wired me. Eventually we both drunkenly fell asleep.
The next morning I couldn't even look at Carla, I felt it was my fault on what I was doing to her. She was gracious and said nothing about it, the night before she said she loved me and waited for my response and I don't quite remember what I said to her. I was the only reason she was coming home and this seemed to be too much on me.
I was nauseous as I exited the N.J. turnpike and drove that last ten miles to Carla's mother's house. I kept taking these deep breaths as I drove and I thought I heard Carla doing the same.