Just Drive [old version]

[ chapter thirteen ]

Dedicated to lerory for being one of the few people that hate Austin. lol

Agh. Sorry for the really long wait on this chapter, but here it is :]

Chapter Thirteen - One Mississippi, two Mississippi

            I woke up with Austin gripping my arm like a madman. “Sam. Sam!” he whispered. “Why is there a dude in our trunk?”

            In my morning delirium, it took me a while to figure out what he was talking about. There was no reason for random guys to be in our trunk, but when Austin mentioned that he reeked of alcohol, it finally all made sense to me.

            “Oh, him,” I started slowly. “I kind of knocked him out last night, and I figured he needed a place to stay, so I put him in our trunk.” In hindsight, I guess there were better things to do, like find him a homeless shelter or ask a kindly insomniac to take him home, but what’s done is done.

            Austin looked at me like I was insane. “You knocked out a drunk guy, and you put him in our trunk.”

            I nodded. “But in my defense, he was trying to kiss me.”

            Austin didn’t seem to care too much about what the guy was trying to do. I was a bit hurt, but rationally, I guess, he must still be freaking out over the guy in the trunk.  He wouldn’t be so flippant about the issue otherwise. At least, that was all I could hope for.

            “Why’d you put him in our trunk?”

            I shrugged. “I couldn’t just leave him there!” I protested.

            Austin still didn’t look convinced. “He’s not dangerous is he?”

            “I guess not. If he was, would I have been able to get away with kneeing him in the balls?” I’m not sure if that was sound logic or not, but Austin seemed to buy it. He didn’t question me any further; he just stared blankly in the general direction of the trunk.

            Eventually, I got tired of mundanely staring and waiting, so I propped my chair back up and stared at the bustling Pittsburgh metropolitan area. The crosswalks lacked the usual morning rush urgency. It must be a weekend, not that I would know. Whatever sense of time I had was completely and utterly destroyed by this road trip.

            “So how long are you just going to stare at him?” I asked.

            Austin didn’t even flinch. “Until he wakes up.”

            I snorted. “Good luck with that. He was drunk, so he probably has a killer hangover and a bruise in the balls right now.”

            Austin seemed to be completely stubborn in his opinion. “If you’re so sure about that, then why don’t you deal with him yourself? You were the one who brought him in. Get him out,” he snapped.

            I bit my lip. He’s normally not quite as abrasive as that; I’m normally the abrasive one. That’s how we worked. He was sweet and gentle whereas I was loud and brash. At least, that was how we were during our golden age. It wasn’t until Kellie came into the picture when he lost his signature sweet disposition that made him my Austin.

            “Fine,” I muttered.

            Opening the door, I walked to the back of the trunk and propped it open. The drunk guy was sleeping soundly against the backseat. His limbs were still in the awkward arrangement I threw them in last night. He had a crusty trail of dried drool running down from the corner of his lips. In the daylight, he looked like a handsome mess. Emphasis on the mess.