Photo by Ash Fuentes
We’re in a fully packed car on the way to our favorite boba shop after snooping around our favorite aisles in the nearest bookstore. The air is thick with the lingering scent of sunscreen that my nose has begun to recognize as quite pleasant in comparison to the tingling smell of our perspiration. The classic Vegas sunset has already started to appear, but the heat of the summer still gets to us the moment we step outside. The mere walk from the car to the door of our destination has our bodies overheating and beads of sweat trickling down our temples in only a few seconds. The cold air hitting our faces recharges us. When we are able to walk out of the shop, cool condensation from our signature iced drinks dripping in our hands, life almost moves in slow motion. I can’t help but look around at all my friends’ faces, their eyes creasing into smiles. Just need a moment to take it all in. One by one we pile back into our original places in the car, like playing the scene in reverse.
One by one the friends go home. I make the drive back to my house all alone. The aircon is still full blast because even with the sun gone, the heat remains very much alive. The once rose tinted sky is now painted over with hues of black and blue. The light pollution erases the stars from my vision, but I can still spot the moon following my car. I’m in no rush to make it home, despite the scolding I’ll probably get from my mother. I take my time, obeying the speed limit, letting cars pass me, paying them no mind. I’m quick enough to get there soon, but slow enough to admire the lights of the night life. Surrounded by my quiet thoughts instead of all the excited people. My nightly recap period to think about every single thing that I experienced that day. How productive I was. How active I was. How social I was. Whether good or bad, I relive it all during my ride home. The drive isn’t lonely. Just me, my thoughts, and the moon.