Fourteen guys and six girls between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two, all of us road tripping to Arizona. My right eyebrow quirked and I smiled. The back seat of the car smelled of old cigarette smoke, and a half-crushed bag labeled Taco Bell lay upon a bed of scattered Mountain Dew cans. My cousin, yelling above music pumped high, gestured wildly to his friend Phil, who was driving.

"What!?" Phil said.

"They're signaling... turn off the road!" my cousin half-shouted. The car in front of us, driven by Victor, slowly began to pull off the road. Phil and the two cars behind us followed. Irritated, we all shouted, "Why did we stop now?" We had stopped four times for potty breaks already, and we had only been driving for three hours.

Victor looked at us. We waited, as thoughts of flat tires and overheated cars raced through our heads. "Well," Victor said slowly with a hint of a growing smile, "Well, I just wanted to see if you guys would all pull off the road for me." A low murmur began, growing louder as doors began to open and slam shut with a bang. Victor looked at all the guys approaching him, gave a devilish grin, and sped off.

Swearing, we got into our cars and raced after him. Five hours later, we all convened at Lake Havasu's McDonald's. We ordered some food and walked into a section that was entirely walled off except for a wide door, which we slid shut.

The door slid open quickly, and a short iron-gray-haired woman walked in. "Keep the door open. This is not a private banquet hall where you can do what you please. Any more trouble, and I'll see you out of here." Turning around as swiftly as she had come in, she left.

We shrugged it off, attributing it to menopause, but we decided to finish eating in the parking lot. My cousin went to make some phone calls. Some of the guys had finished eating and had begun to throw a football around. Suddenly, the front door opened and the same gray-haired lady came out. "Please leave the premises. Otherwise, I shall be forced to call the authorities to have you removed."

Someone from the group said, "Our friend is using the phone. We're leaving as soon as he's done." She sniffed and went back in. Two minutes later she came out with the manager, who said, "You've been given enough warnings already. If you don't leave, the police will be called." She turned to the gray-haired lady and said, "You have my permission to call them if these kids give you any more trouble." She went back inside leaving the gray-haired lady looking at us disapprovingly.

"Our friend is just using the phone to ask for directions. You can't kick us off, lady," one of the group said.

"Besides," another called, "we're a group. We're all going together."

Someone else shouted, "We'll go to Burger King then. Burger King's better than McDonald's!"

"Excuse me, mam," I interrupted "We're just using the phone, and as soon as my cousin gets the directions, we'll leave."

"Does it take twenty Asians to make a phone call?" she said. My cousin, who had just gotten off the phone, shouted, "Let's go, everyone!" and began to race to the cars. The rest of us followed.

The ride to our destination was a short one, silent and uncomfortable, broken only by a few angry murmurs that died off as more exciting topics were brought up - who was going out with who, who was going to cliffjump, the next big party, everything but what had happened. They all acted natural, as if this was an everyday thing to them. As I watched the buildings blur into the background, I realized I was no longer a child, but an almost adult who would no longer be sheltered from the truth, one who would now have to face the issues of reality and live with them.