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A week ago, you and the best people you ever had the pleasure of knowing, sat under the unfortunate blazing sun in black hats and gowns, reciting speeches and standing with varying levels of excitement with a rolled up diploma in hand.
The event itself wasn't all that great, but it's one of those things you can't help but feel proud of, and then comes a formal celebration followed by a far less formal one. It was fun and debatably memorable, sure, but more than anything, Dave's relieved. High school is over, four years of mandatory school that did nothing but take up time. Six hours a day, 181 days out of 365, times four, and a piece of cardstock for it. You're actually tempted to burn it.
It all caused a lot of reflection, remembering the biggest events of each year: the physical fights (for scrawny girls, Kanaya and Vriska are badass), the food fights, prank wars, movie groups, parties, dramatic break-ups among friends.
People had been saying they're sad now that it's over, that everyone is going to separate and go to college, "we are never going to see each other again!" You're not sad about it, not yet anyway. You're still basking in the satisfaction of no more late nights with homework and waking up at 6/7AM.
That basking lasted a good five days, until you realized how incredibly not-busy you are and how much consecutive uninterrupted time was spent around people. John was off at college, Jade was packing (or something?) for college, and Rose is overseas. Terezi is well on her way to law school, Kanaya is working, and Karkat is the only person not completely consumed in busywork.
Which is lucky because you were pretty sure there were some plans between you guys.
That fifth day after graduation was a sad wallowing day spent reflecting on each high school year you'd never have back, a silent mournful stay-in-your-room day. A lot of hypothetical situations for the future were thrown around. (What kind of place to get? What kind of job would be ideal? Should I bother with a job yet? What if Bro wants my ass out of here?)
The sixth day was luckily an interruption in the imminent stank of wallowing, thanks to the lovely Karkat Vantas who showed up on your door uninvited. Which of course is fine, he does it a lot and still would if you asked him not to.
He had a look on his face that you recognized, both enjoyed and feared: he had some sort of plan. Without even inviting him in, Karkat was in your room pacing and opening every drawer, cabinet, and door while asking questions. Of course it didn't take a detective to know what was going on, Karkat was expecting a spontaneous road trip. You teased with sarcastic remarks about "how romantic" it was. He retorted with "pack your bags, dick."
Neither of you had a grand plan, no destination or estimated time of return. In retrospect, it could be romantic, but also reckless. At the same time, you expect no less.
The two of you left on the sixth day after graduation, only telling your brother you'd be away for a while and then got into Karkat's shitty grey truck. It isn't all that shitty, it's just unimpressive and impractical for a small guy like him. Spacey, at least, which you think you'll need for a trip with no destination or plan.
That first day, the two of you only spent four total hours driving, while trying to decide which direction is best to travel; Karkat wanted to go in terms of good weather, your wanted destination. You two made a compromise and went on a road with nothing but clear skies and sun, but also heading toward the Southeast to travel along the coast. It was also mutually agreed upon to just stay in the U.S., you two are just unprepared eighteen year olds anyway.
Somehow, it wasn't all that bad. You didn't even make it out of state but it remained pleasant. It was also decided to save money and fold the seats down in the truck and sleep there for the first night instead of a motel, and although it was slightly cramped, you were even comfortable there.
The Texas heat kept both of you tossing and turning but bright-eyed (no pun intended on the whole red eyes deal) in the morning. Successful, you agree. And so the journey had continued.
"I can drive." You offered.
"You drove yesterday. How's the gas?"
"Same as last night, what, is there a gas thief siphoning from ugly grey trucks over here?"
"Shut up, jesus, I don't want to have to push the goddamn thing on the highway." He replied, bothered.
"Yeah, well, it's fine right now. I'll drive." That apparently didn't bother him since he could just sit in the passenger seat and play frogger on his phone for a couple hours.
You two rearranged the makeshift bed and seats before hopping in the front and starting again for the coast. Karkat tried to shove some shitty decade old CD in his ancient CD player again which sparked some good conversation/fighting/banter. His music sucks, it's hard to let him do his thing when everything he likes comes from a movie soundtrack.
After stopping for some bathrooms and getting off a highway, the two of you pulled into a drive-through for fast breakfast, which has Karkat yelling again.
"They have no FUCKING bacon here. Texas loves grilling and barbeque, where's the bacon? For a bunch of damn rednecks this place is really out of touch. Goddamnit, I'm suffering an aneurysm, let's go somewhere else before my brain blood leaks all over the leather." You can hardly manage a chuckle at any of it, he's so intense about little things.
You follow his angry commands, finding fast breakfast for his princess-ass elsewhere, as well as coffee which has him settling down much better. Thank god though, you know he could scream for an uninterrupted five minutes, if not satisfied.
The both of you were back on the road soon enough, Karkat calmed down and you... Well you're fine, driving, tapping the steering wheel to no rhythm. He's silent for the most part, occasionally speaking up only to break silence, you mostly nod and respond with one or two words. Eventually he seems to get frustrated with whatever he's doing on his phone and starts to talk with intentions of a real conversation.
"Are you afraid of bugs?" He asks.
"Some, sure," you answer. He's asked that before.
"What about moths?"
You give him a look, like it's a weird question, "Not really."
"Well Gamzee, believe it or not, fuckin' hates them. He does that wiggly thing people do whenever a moth is around."
Gamzee and Karkat are long time friends, and you sort of hate him. He's just not a good dude, not trustworthy, and yet, Karkat has Gamzee looming over him at practically all times of day. You don't respond, just let him talk.
"The other night, when I was helping him pack, a moth flew into Kurloz's car, I didn't really care so I didn't say anything. We kept packing and I didn't see it after it flew in."
You look over to let him know you're listening, Karkat is absentmindedly scratching his chest.
"We finished up pretty early, he doesn't have much in his room aside from furniture and stupid games. In the car, while we were driving to his new apartment, the moth flew to the front and onto the windshield, and Gamzee was sitting in the passenger seat." He paused like he was bracing himself to relive something traumatic.
"Holy fucking shit, I cannot attempt to even recreate the sound that came out of that fucker's mouth, it was truly terrifying. What's worse though is he freaked out so bad in two seconds that he nearly made Kurloz swerve into a goddamn sixteen-wheeler because of a *fucking* moth. Full on extended those mile long legs and ejected his entire body into his brother's side."
You look over again to see Karkat rubbing his head, frustrated. You give a half-hearted laugh, he scowls. Apparently it wasn't supposed to be funny.
"How'd you get the moth out?" You prompt.
That makes him perk up, like this part is the most interesting. Which it is. "Kurloz ate it."
"What?"
"He ate it."
That time you do laugh, but he doesn't. He grins a small grin and scratches his head. "Can you steady the car for a second?"
He doesn't really need a response 'cause you do that already, meanwhile he climbs into the back seat and goes through a bag of his. You look in the rear view mirror and see he's changing his undershirt; it was clearly bothering him.
About an hour and a half goes by until you make your first pit stop of the day for gas, picking up waters and chips. Karkat comes back to the truck to announce there's a river nearby to visit, which you didn't expect him to have an interest in but make a reroute in that direction anyway.
It's a decent, albeit moderately quiet drive until you make it to the river he wanted to see and by then you're both tired and he's driven a couple hours in place of you driving. You both agree not to buy a room again tonight, decidedly content in "camping" by the river.
Neither of you are very interested in actually swimming but sit on a rock together anyway, only getting water up to your calves. Karkat indulges you in talking about astronomy, something he's had a fondness in for years, and it's particularly clear in the area for star talk. He points out your horoscope, as he always does, even though you aren't entirely sure which stars he's pointing to and divulges into the story of the Sagittarius.
Eventually the two of you get too cold and tired to sit out on the river anymore and head back to the truck, making the "bed" again before sleeping in a tangle of limbs.
There's this pattern of days, they seem to blur together in a sort of peaceful haze between driving, sightseeing, loud music, and conversation. Soon enough, you're in New Mexico, driving through deserts and tame towns. Then Nevada, but neither of you bother tempting the idea of going to the Four Corners or Las Vegas.
Then you're in California, bypassing San Diego, which is hot as hell, then in Monterey. You go to the beach and the aquarium, where you and Karkat have a particularly large amount of fun. Then you're out and heading to San Francisco. There, you do stop for a day to be tourists. People are a mixture of scary and friendly and you two do have a good time.
Your cameras and phones are full of pictures by then so you resort to disposable cameras and suddenly are lugging stacks of souvenirs and plastic cameras in the back of Karkat's truck.
He seems to enjoy San Francisco more than any of the other cities so far, while Albuquerque and Monterey are apparently runner-ups, and keeps finding things he wants to do, so a day turns into two and then four and then eight and you're exhausted on exploring a single city, despite its size. You entertain him in all his trips anyway.
Your hotel room is now littered with both of your belongings and becoming a little pricey to pay for so the two of you get the hell out of dodge and travel even more north.
You're still not sure where exactly you're going next but Karkat seems pretty set on Seattle so you're back on the beaches and spend another day traveling to Washington. You're pretty happy with that, and become slightly embarrassed with how truly content you are, like it's some gushy secret.
You look at Karkat for probably the hundredth time that day and tell him this, tacking on you love him. He says he loves you too, a trace of confusion on his face. You ask what that's all about and Karkat admits it's "so uncool of you". You attempt to hide a sheepish smile, looking out the window at the plains of grass in the dark.