Ride or Die
October 28, 2024
Writer: Hailey Brandt
Editor: Sara Tweed
The number of times I have texted “I’m here” is nearly record-breaking. My very first and best friend, Lindsay, is one of the most impressive and coolest people I know. Yet, for all her incredible skills and attributes, I will always have the upper hand in one area: driving. As she nears the ripe age of 20, she has yet to take her driving test, making me the designated chauffeur, with the cost of each ride being consistent teasing. But despite my constant provoking of this "flaw," I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Lindsay and I have traveled together since the days of carpooling. Our mothers, who are also inseparable, took turns schlepping us from playdates to dance practice, always staying up to date with the friendships we fostered at the park. As the tweenage years dawned upon us, we rode bicycles through the streets of our small beach town, visiting surf shops in search of trinkets and jewelry, grabbing pizza and ice cream, and attending annual festivals and fairs.
Even though the driving days are upon us and our destinations have changed, the one by my side has stayed the same. Dance classes have been replaced with new workout classes—yoga being our current fixation—and our new treat of choice is sampling different lattes all over Long Island. For better or worse, we now do our shopping at the mall, coming home with whatever style of blue jeans and black tops are trending. And though our moms are no longer in the car with us daily, they’re still always kept informed of any and all drama.
Lindsay’s time in the passenger seat is filled with nothing but friendship, trust, and adventure. The seats of my (our) gray Volvo are worn in from hearing rants about stressors and troubles at work—a job we also conquered together. The views through the rolled down windows in the summertime are nostalgic, as we drive through the streets that have stayed the same as we have grown up. Our shared love of The Lumineers, The Weeknd, and Taylor Swift drown out the sound of the speakers as some questionable sounding “singing” is heard, but the laughter and joy of these drives is irreplaceable.
During senior year of high school, Lindsay and I were elected vice president and president of our grade. We showed up together at all major events, from award ceremonies and the senior fashion show to graduation, where we watched the kindergarteners of 2010 collect their diplomas. Lindsay needed me for transportation and a laugh when she was feeling down, and I needed her for her eccentric energy and advice—which, as much as I hate to admit it, is always right. And although it was bittersweet to think about being 500 miles apart and facing the challenges that college would bring, I knew distance had no effect on my right-hand man; we’re stuck together until the very end. So, Linds, maybe hold off a few more months before taking driver’s ed.
Image: Julia Bonanno
