Half Wild, Half Yours

Let’s Get Tent-ative

We’d been driving for about an hour, the silence between songs filling in the blanks between flirty banter and something neither of us had dared name yet.

Teddy had finally taken off his feet from the dash—after I threatened to push him out at 70mph—and was now scrolling through my glovebox like it was a treasure chest. He pulled out a crumpled Polaroid of me and Tyler on the coast, held it up.

“This one’s cute,” he said. “You look happy.”

“I was happy,” I replied. “We’d just found a taco truck that served free churros to dog owners.”

He laughed. “Solid business model.”

We fell quiet again. The road slipped beneath us, all long stretches of nothing and endless sky. I could feel him watching me, not in a creepy way, but in that intense Teddy way—like he saw something worth studying.

“What made you start doing this?” he asked. “Van life. Traveling. Posting your life online.”

I hesitated.

That was the kind of question people asked in interviews, or in passing, like they wanted a soundbite or a punchline. But Teddy’s voice was low and quiet, and his body was angled toward mine, like he was really asking. Like he wanted to know me.

I kept my eyes on the road. “I think I just… didn’t want to wake up one day and realize I’d done everything safe and none of it happy.”

He was quiet.

“I had this job I hated. A degree I barely used. A boyfriend who only loved the version of me that made sense to him. And I kept thinking—if this is the rest of my life, I’m going to implode.”

“So you left?” he asked.

I nodded. “Sold most of my stuff. Bought this van. Gutted it. Rebuilt it. Took Tyler and ran for the coast.”

Teddy leaned back in his seat, like he was letting that settle. “Damn,” he said. “That’s kind of badass.”

I let out a breath. “My mom cried when I told her. She thought I was losing it. But then she said something I still think about all the time.”

“What’s that?”

“‘Try leading with your heart next time.’” I swallowed. “I think she meant I’d been living too long from fear. From logic. From what-ifs and exit strategies.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m trying to lead with my heart,” I said softly. “Which is terrifying, by the way.”

He was quiet for a long time, and I risked a glance sideways. His jaw was tight, his eyes still on me.

“I’m really glad you said yes,” he said finally.

I smiled. “Don’t make me regret it, rockstar.”

“No promises.”

⸻

The motel looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 80s—complete with a flickering neon sign that read Vacan y and a vending machine that only took quarters, if you were lucky. The pool out front was questionably clean, and the AC units buzzed like they were on their last breath.

But honestly? I was just grateful for my van.

I parked near the edge of the lot under the only tree tall enough to throw shade, popped open the back to let some breeze in for Tyler, and cracked a fresh can of lemon LaCroix. Luxury.

The guys checked into two rooms, dropped their gear, and the group vote on food was unanimous: greasy, fast, and covered in cheese. We ended up back at the motel with a feast of crinkly paper bags and fries so salty they made my lips tingle.

By dusk, we migrated to the pool. I wore a black bikini I knew was doing me favors, and Teddy noticed—his eyes lingered just long enough to make my skin warm under the humid glow of the parking lot lights.

He cannonballed in without warning, splashing all of us.

“Oh my god, Teddy!” I squealed, laughing as water hit my face. “You menace.”

“You love it,” he called, floating backward like a smug otter. “Come on in, Blue. The water’s basically soup.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?” I peeled off my cover-up and dove in headfirst.

I resurfaced just in time to feel his hand skim past me underwater, playfully tugging at my ankle.

“Behave,” I warned, splashing him in the face.

“No promises,” he grinned.

Meanwhile, Brody and Thomas had taken over the shallow end, floating with their heads resting on the edge and debating logistics for their next stop.

“San Diego’s up next,” Thomas said, running a wet hand through his hair. “Couple shows lined up. Back-to-back gigs.”

“Ooh, San Diego?” I perked up, treading water near the middle. “I’m officially requesting a beach bum detour. I’ve got my emergency tent and gear in the van. Let’s camp.”

Brody looked intrigued. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. Ocean breeze, campfire, beers, s’mores, acoustic guitar… Come on. Don’t tell me you guys are too rockstar for sleeping under the stars.”

Thomas raised a brow. “I mean, we’re already in a two-star motel. What’s the downgrade from here?”

“I’m in,” Teddy said quickly, swimming over to me, water dripping from his hair. “But only if I get a sleeping bag next to yours.”

I gave him a look. “Only if you promise not to steal my pillow.”

“I’ll bring my own,” he said, eyes glinting. “And snacks. And backup batteries for your vape.”

“Now that’s how you bribe a girl.”

The boys agreed with a few more half-serious jokes, and just like that, our next plan was set: beach camping in San Diego.

As we floated there under a patchy sky full of motel light pollution and lazy stars, I couldn’t help but feel this is the start of something that wasn’t part of my plan… but maybe better.