Summer Road Block

A short story about a summer road block and an encounter with an annoyingly sweet guy...

Lexi cruised towards the coast, singing off‑key to a song she knew less than half the words to, when traffic slammed to a halt so suddenly her slushie nearly became a dashboard decoration.

“Are you kidding me right now?" she complained to the empty car, straightening her now half-full slushie cup. "This is going to take forever to clean! A road block on the hottest day of the year?"

But as the car painfully edged forwards, she realised this wasn’t normal traffic. Fairy lights winked at her from the sides of the road, glinting in the sunlight. Popcorn stands were manned everywhere, with queues so long the people had to practically stand on the road. Speakers blared music so loud that her slushie started shaking again. A dark-haired, young man in his early twenties was juggling a few metres ahead. Badly.

It was a pop‑up drive‑in, right in the middle of the motorway.

The juggler dropped a ball onto the road and it was instantly squished by a car. He swore and huffed at the driver, who honked in apology, then turned away. Their eyes met.

Lexi's mouth went rather dry. She hadn't expected him to be so attractive. From a distance, he'd looked like any other guy, but up close...

“Welcome to the Summer Road Block!” he half-shouted, bowing like a magician who’d misplaced his rabbit. “We’re diverting traffic… into fun.”

Lexi snorted, her eyes straying to the lock of hair curling over his left eye. How she longed to touch it. “Is that an official policy?”

“Only during heatwaves and emotional emergencies,” he said. “Which one are you having?”

She laughed harder than she meant to, immediately feeling stupid. The car on the other side of the road probably heard her. Unfazed, he handed her a ticket and pointed her toward a parking spot beside a campervan decorated with flamingo stickers.

Lexi hesitated, her desire to get out of the heat battling her desire to know him better. The latter won. "What's your name?"

The young man blinked in surprise, then flashed his dimples at her. "Zayn Donovan at your service, young lady. And you?"

"Lexi," she replied, then cursed herself for sounding so breathy. Before he could laugh, she quickly drove away.

As the movie started, Zayn wandered over with two lemonades. Lexi's heart skipped a beat and she forced herself to look as though she hadn't been desperately scanning the crowd for him every thirty seconds.

“For the girl who didn’t run me over,” he said, handing her one of the glasses.

“For the guy who can’t juggle,” she replied, taking a sip.

They sat on her bonnet, sharing popcorn, trading jokes, and pretending not to notice how close their shoulders were getting. When the screen lit their faces in soft gold, he leaned in just enough to ask:

“Will I seem like a creep if I ask for your number?"

Lexi's heart almost jumped out of her chest. "Uh. Yes. No, no, I mean no. Yeah."

She hurriedly whipped out her phone and gave him her number before he could change his mind. The grin he gave was better than any slushie.

When the motorway finally reopened, Lexi drove off with a new contact in her phone, a smile she couldn’t shake, and the very real suspicion that sometimes detours can change your life for the better.