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She first sees the bus when she’s driving home from college. She’s got a degree under her belt and a smiling boyfriend in the passenger seat, radio blaring. The two of them sing happily as she guns it down the highway, on her way home.
She’s sees the bus parked in the car dealership by the highway as she approaches.
It’s nothing special really. Just one of those Brighton Buses, painted black. But the paint’s peeling, the wind shield is cracked; it’s coated in dust and she can see that the tires are worn. It’s in a really bad shape, but there’s still a certain charm to it.
"Something caught your eye?" York - her on-again, off-again boyfriend - asks.
"It’s nothing," she says as they drive past. The bus falls far behind them. "Just nothing."
*
"I want to go on a road trip," York declares one day.
She snorts, glancing to where he’s got his head hanging over the edge of he bed, watching as she carefully cleans the newest tattoo she just got on her arm - a bouquet of yellow jessamines and flowering dogwoods, the Carolina state flowers.
"What, like an all-American road trip?" she asks. She rings out her cloth in the bowl by her foot, carefully runs it over the yellow, white and green tattoo.
"Yeah! We can take your van -"
“My van? You think my van could handle a cross country trip?”
"What about that bus?"
She frowns at him. He’s grinning at her.
"What?"
"We’re not getting the bus, if that’s what you mean."
"You want that bus. I know you want it."
"No."
"C’mon, Carolina -"
"We’re not paying for the bus."
"Nah, we’re not,” York says, rolling over onto his front. “I’m gonna buy it.”
"I guarantee you won’t."
*
He does.
He shows up at her house two days later, driving that bus and laughing at the way she stands in the drive way of her home, hands gripping her hair and mouth wide open.
He actually bought the bus.
It’s looking better than it did when she saw it on the highway. Sure, York’s painted it an obnoxious aqua colour that she once made the mistake of saying was her favourite colour, but it’s got new tires and a new wind shield and it doesn’t look like it was dragged through a desert.
York jumps out of the front, keys dangling from his left hand.
"You bought the damn bus," she says faintly, staring at the bus.
York laughs. “Yup. Would’ve brought her ‘round sooner but I thought I’d clean her up a bit. She’s looking better now, isn’t she?”
"She?"
"Yeah, she. She’s a lovely lady. You’ve got a good idea."
"I can’t believe you bought it."
"Only $300."
They stand in silence for a few moments, just staring at the stupidly bright bus before York holds out the keys, his stupid, smack-inducing grin on his face. “So, we good for a road trip now?”
She punches his arm.
*
It turns out they do end up on a road trip. The pour a lot of money into the bus first, turn it into a little mobile phone. It’s got it’s own kitchenette, a little living room, a couple of based squeezed in upstairs. York insists on painting the kitchenette’s counters aqua. All the little additions like the cutlery handles and the pots are aqua. The cushions of the chairs, the leather driver’s seat, the sheets of the bed - you guessed it, they’re all aqua.
"Listen, it’s my favourite colour but this is too much," she says when he hands her the bedsheets.
"Nah, it’s not enough," he grins.
Her dad’s not impressed with the bus. He was obviously hoping for her to get a job, to put her college degree and the money he put into that to good use. Instead, she’s going on a road trip with her boyfriend. He’s obviously not happy, but doesn’t say much on the matter, because he knows she’s not going to change her mind once she’s committed herself to it.
He’s there when she and York finally set off, standing in the driveway. He gives her a hug before she leaves, along with a phone number. ‘In case of emergencies’, he’s scrawled beneath.
He waves her goodbye as she drives off.
*
She notices something about the colour aqua. She notices that it’s becoming a more noticeable thing in her life, that it’s popping up practically everywhere she goes.
And wherever the colour aqua is, only good things follow.
*
Aqua is the colour of the girl and her brother’s shirts.
They sit at the table next to Carolina and York, apparently in the middle of some kind of heated argument. Carolina can’t tell what they’re arguing about, because it’s escalated to the point where the siblings are half-shouting at each other in Russian. The other customers of this shitty North Dakotan dive bar keep glancing over at the arguing pair, who seem to be bordering on physical violence.
But then the brother mumbles something, still in Russian, and the girl throws her head back and lets out the loudest, most obnoxious laugh Carolina’s ever heard - and that’s saying something, considering she’s got York for a boyfriend - and the argument’s dead and buried, just like that.
The girl catches Carolina staring. She’s pretty good looking, all white skin and baby blue eyes and short hair dyed lilac. There’s a scar that cuts across her left cheek and she’s got snake bites. When she smiles, Carolina can see the bar in her tongue too.
She winks at Carolina. Her brother sees what’s happening and snorts.
Just like that, they’re talking. The two tables are pushed together and names are exchanged and drinks are bought. Alisa and Adam, they tell her. That’s their names. Carolina and York give their real names and then their nicknames.
"Carolina?" Adam asks. "As in the state?"
"North or South?" Alisa asks.
"Just Carolina."
"So what’s the deal behind the state names?" Alisa asks before burping. She doesn’t bother with manners. Alisa seems to have a ‘devil may care’ attitude when it comes to life in general, what with her messed up hair, her crude language and her poor posture. Adam’s her opposite, with perfectly combed hair and clean button up shirts. Still, he’s got two silver rings in his left eyebrow and the two of them have more tattoos than either her or York.
"It’s a little inside joke," York says. "I met Carolina hear in New York, so she started calling me York."
"You get named after the state we find you in," Carolina mumbles as she takes a swig of her drink. She knows she’s not driving tonight.
"So does that make us the Dakotas?" Adam says with a smirk.
"I’m South, you’re North," Alisa says. She finishes off her drink, slides the glass on top of the small tower she’s making. Amazingly, she’s burned through six vodka and oranges and doesn’t seem the slightest bit tipsy.
"How’d you figure that?"
"A dick goes up."
York spits his drink out.
*
We they leave North Dakota two days later, it’s with two extra passengers.
*
Aqua’s the colour of Constance’s new tattoo.
They meet her in a tattoo parlour in Bridgeport. York’s the one going in, hoping to get some kind of music note tattooed beneath his left ear. Carolina ends up going with him because she knows he’ll cry and South wants her to record it.
Constance is in the seat next to York, getting some kind of aqua coloured koi fish tattooed on her left shoulder blade. She lies on her front, twists her towards Carolina, who sits between the two chairs. Carolina notice the septum piercing first, then her undercut and her light grey eyes. Constance smiles at her, and reveals that she has dimples. Carolina smiles back.
Somehow, they end up talking. When Carolina thinks back on it, she can’t remember exactly how the two of them started talking. She just remembers Constance making some kind of comment on the bouquet of dogwoods and jessamines on her arm. She told Constance about the nickname thing, about the flowers being the Carolina state flowers. Constance remarks that she’s got a clump of mountain laurels - the Connecticut state flower - tattooed across her left collarbone.
It goes from there.
They stay in Bridgeport longer than they planned to, and they find themselves hanging around with Constance a lot.
When she asks if she can come with them a week later as they’re packing up to leave, they say yes.
And she’s Connecticut from then on.
*
Aqua is the colour of Jason’s apron.
They meet him in some ice-cream shop in Augusta, Maine. Carolina has to hold back a snort when she sees this hulking man sat behind the counter, muscles so big that they look as if they’re about to pop his hideous orange shirt. Orange shirt, aqua apron and a matching hat sitting on his bald head. There’s a look on his face that says he obviously hates every minute he’s spending working at this place.
South whistles when she sees him. Carolina can see her practically droolingwhen he reaches for something and his shirt tightens over his muscles.
"Thought you were strictly into girls?" Connie asked, slurping her slushie.
"He’s got tattoos and muscles," South says, as if that settles the conversation.
When Carolina looks over at him and sees the muscles of his arms moving, she can’t help but think South’s got a point.
He brings their ice-cream over a few minutes later. South practically swoons when she hears him speak and finds that he has a New Zealand accent. She mumbles something in Russian that has North choking on his ice cream.
There’s no attempt to try and talk to the guy whilst their in the ice cream shop. In fact, it’s only when Carolina finds him sat at the bar of the night club they go to that night do they finally speak. So while South drinks herself into a stupor and York makes a fool of himself on the dance floor, she finds out that the guy’s name is Jason, that he moved to America with his parents from New Zealand a few years back and that he fucking hates his job (she already guessed that). He shows a few of his tattoos when she asks about them, and she learns he’s Maori. He wins her heart when he reveals he can speak both Maori and French fluently.
He gets the name Maine that night, and he’s already got his resignation notice written when she asks him to come with them two days later.
*
Aqua is the colour of the seats in the diner where they meet David.
It’s raining in Seattle. The bus is parked two miles away, they’ve got no umbrellas and they’re all hungry. So, they pile into this little diner that turns out to have no free seats but the lot of them can’t be bothered going out into the rain.
It’s Carolina who notices the kid sat by himself, plate of food before him untouched and one of those hipster, Fujinon cameras in his hands. There’s a grey-and-yellow beanie sitting on his head, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up to his elbows. Carolina can see the koi fish and flowers tracing up one arm while the other arm is decorated with stars. There’s words on his fingers, but she can’t read them.
His booth is empty except for him. There’s more than enough room for her group. So she stands at the end of his table, smiles when he looks up. He’s of obvious Chinese descent, with storm grey eyes and dark brown freckles splattered across his face. She notes that one eye seems to be a lighter grey than the other, sees the stretcher in his left ear.
"We okay to take these seats?" she asks, gesturing to the empty seats both next to and across from the kid.
"Uh -"
"Thanks." She’s smiling as she slides into the booth. York sits beside her, and South beside him. Maine wedges himself in beside the kid, who has to press himself against the wall to make room for Maine. Connie sits beside Maine, and North pulls up a chair at the end of the table.
"Uh, um," the kid stammers, looking like a deer in headlights.
"What’s your name kiddo?" York asks as Carolina picks up the menu.
"Uh, David."
"Nice to meet you, David." York’s beaming. "I’m York. This is Carolina, North and South Dakota, Connie and Maine."
"I prefer C.T.," Connie says, but no one pays her any mind.
"What’s with the state names?" David asks, eyebrow quirked.
"If I had a dollar for everytime someone asks that," South growls.
"Inside joke," Carolina says, barely looking up from her menu. "Named after the states we find each other in."
"So are you North or South?"
"Neither."
"… Okay."
David turns out to be a pretty okay kid. He’s the youngest person they’ve met yet, a year younger than Connie and a good four years younger than Carolina and York. Barely old enough to drink, he reveals.
They don’t know how it happens, but they end up spending the entire afternoon in the diner, long after the rain has stopped and the tables have cleared out. David becomes Washington very quickly, says that he likes the nickname a lot. Carolina thinks she liked him a lot.
He’s the last addition to their little group.
*
It’s not perfect.
Sometimes they have to steal to get by. York almost breaks his neck slipping on the photos that Wash leaves littered around the bus. Nightmares make some night sleepless. And sometimes there’s little incidents at 2:00am where one of them realises that they can’t do this forever and they end up drinking their way through a bottle of whiskey.
But they make the most of it. York sings people to sleep. They shout the lyrics to Bon Jovi songs as they blast down highways with the windows rolled down. Wash captures little moments that seem meaningless to other but mean a lot to everyone else. Nights were people sleep are perfect because there’s nothing more comforting than feeling two bodies pressed either side of you, keeping you warm and safe.
It’s not a perfect family, Carolina thinks when she looks at this group of rag-tag idiots. But it’s her family.
And she wouldn’t change it for the world.