How nice it is to sit next to Levon in a Cadillac, sun warming my skin, burrito in my hand while I tell him every tiny details that’s gone on in the past few years he’s missed. Sure, he’s called and I’ve called him but nothing beats sitting alone in the car, the music barely a whisper, and having an uninterrupted conversation.

Monterrey, is beautiful, if you keep your eyes focused on the mountains and the ocean. The fog is light, barely a dusting over the dark blue waters. But the bright sun shines against the waves crashing to the shores. On the other side is a town, old and perfectly worn. With everything from gourmet sub shops to cigar stops. Further down, the town turns into a sprawling city with hotels and warehouses, big box stores, and burrito restaurants. Keep going, keep going.

“How’s the bestie?” he asks.

Levon is always been fond of Priya and I thought they would make a good couple one day but Priya has never even show a hint of interest in anyone, ever. Not even a crush. She’s walked out of spin-the-bottle games at parties and left the movies the moment a friend tried to make a move. Zero tolerance, she has with boys. I asked her once about it. She said, “I have a soulmate, a love of a lifetime. And I’m going to wait until I see him again.” And I said, “What?” And she said, “I mean, that’s what I believe in, don’t you? True love?” And that was kind of it because no, I don’t believe in true love or soulmates or a love of a lifetime but I envied her. To be so sure and only in high school. To be adamant that no boy will do. It’s going to be some mysterious man she’s always said lives somewhere in California. Where? Your guess is as good as mine but know the last conversation I had with Priya which was yesterday over the phone went like this:

“Hey, I’m leaving for Cali tomorrow.”

“Oh yes. Tell me when you meet my man,” Priya said.

“Alrighty, whatever you say.”

And that was it, really. I’m supposed to call her the moment I see a man and she said I’ll know when I see him. But judging from the hundreds of men’s faces I’ve seen so far as we drive the freeway, I have not met her soulmate. But I haven’t considered the idiot next to me.

“Uhm,” I say, “Priya is good. Are you interested?”

His hair shakes back and forth more aggressively than his head. “No, no. I have a girlfriend.”

“You’ve always asked a lot about Priya though. You sure you don’t have the hots for her?”

“Dude, Priya is just interesting, that’s all,” he says. “Did mom tell you what’s interesting about her yet?”

“Mom said she’s as bright as the sun and stuff like that. Nothing about her being interesting, I guess. Besides the fact she’s crazy smart and has about a bajillion poems memorized. You know, she even memorized all the poem’s for senior advance language arts class?” I mumble, “she’s crazy. That’s what’s interesting.”

A bite of burrito, a squint towards the sun. “How much longer of a trip?”

“We literally just started.” Levon huffs and touches his hand gently against the bruise on his jaw.

The car is silent for a while as the scenery changes to rolling hills. We talk about food and about the only okay restaurant to eat at in Jamestown, which happens to be the one mom recommended. “They have waffle fries and peanuts, no actual food,” Levon says, “but the fries are great.” We talk about Adam though my memory of dating him is already hazy, like my fifth-grade boyfriend whose name I forgot because we were ten and I never even spoke to him. Honestly, technically, we might still be dating but I think little kid pretend relationships don’t count anymore, at some point. We talk about cell phone reception and how great it is in the grandparent’s house which I’m excited about because what the hell else am I going to do there for a whole year if not, text and talk the whole time?

Ah, the looming of the mountains of the Sierra Nevada. I stared at it before, when I was a little kid, the winding road that comes next after we climb the first mountain, and the road leading into Jamestown which is the road that finally straightens and steers away from cliff drops. But I can’t really remember our visit with the grandparents and actually I can’t remember much of how we even got to this road, I just know it happened because we drove the California coastline first and mountain hiked. Can’t forget those scenes.

But my grandparent’s, now that I think about it, I don’t remember at all. Mom showed me pictures plenty of times but the faces don’t ring a bell. They looked like the standard pictures inside of photo frames at the store of two old people laughing, but now I think about it, did mom actually pretend it was of them for some crazy-person joke?

“So I did lie about the phone reception,” Levon says as we snake through the mountains. “It is good inside The Host but if mom or Priya calls, their calls might breakup. Also, before you even open your slack-jawed mouth, sis, The Host is what we call the house and sometimes mom and Priya and I go through this thing that’s sort of like an energy field, but it’s called The Seam, so if they phone’s break up, that’s why. I don’t want you to panic when that happens.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up, what? Explain all this crack-talk to me slowly.”

Levon pouts his lips and scratches the bruise on his chin, gently. Very gently. “Do you know what the code phrase, going to the grandparent’s house, means? Because you should know what it means and all the things I just said. I mean, mom was def supposed to tell you about it but, damned. This is going to be so hard to explain.”

And by explanation, Levon must mean, dial his girlfriend and talk for a really long time. I hold charmy in my hand and trace the lines of the bear cloak around its shoulders and the bear snout and eyes that I’m not certain if they’re open or close. The sweat under my bra, under the pouch, is bothering me but mom said don’t take it out until I get to the g-rents house. I don’t believe her, with her cray talk but I do love her. Love her enough to tell her I listened to her perfectly when I call her tonight. And I wish the time of this drive would go by faster, just a few more hours left. You know, at some point in a car ride, no matter how beautiful the scenery, you just want to be lulled asleep with your head against the window and charmy in your hand. And with that thought, I fall asleep and the sign, Welcome to Jamestown! greets us.

And so does Levon’s voice bellowing, “Floor is lava!”

Panic rises in my chest, jolting me fully awake. Levon’s knees are hiked high, his feet off the peddles.

“One, two, three, four,” he says.

My feet rise instinctively by the time he gets to four but sleepiness forces them back to the ground. “Man, I’ve lost my game. I used to be so good at that.”

Levon’s knees sink below the steering wheel again. He brushes the hair from his forehead and scoffs, spittle hitting my cheek. “Yeah, your game is weak, sis.”

A minore ad maius

From the smaller to the greater