How to Say Yes

Chris and Lauren are going climbing in Red Rock Canyon, just outside of Vegas, and I'm welcome to ride with them through California if I'm prepared to share the driving. I'd met them at the party last weekend.

"Can you drive stick?" asked Chris. "We're taking the van."

I said yes, of course I can, and I didn't mention I've never driven here before. This opportunity is too good to miss. Nevada is an 18 hour drive away, but that's without any stopping. I'll need to bring a tent – we'll camp in the Sierras on the way.

"Do you climb?" asked Tom, and I'd hesitated and then said no. It's one thing pretending to be able to drive an American van on the other side of the road, but I don't want to find myself caught halfway up a rockface in the desert just because my mother never taught me how to say no.

"But I'll bring my camera," I say, and they say okay then, neat.

I like that they used the word 'neat', because of course what I really am right now is an unhinged mess. But that's between you and me. It's the weekend on the west coast of America, and there's no reason why any of them need to know that about me just yet.