Cursed Purple

15.

WE HAD TO DRIVE a couple towns over for good measure to stop for the night. The only stop we made in that little town was at the convenience store to grab a real paper map. I hadn't used one in a long time, but I found relearning how to use it was a lot easier than the GPSes. They could break down easily or get you off track, and this map was easy to follow. I only hoped that it was accurate.

The hotel we ended up at wasn't as nice as the one we were originally going to stay in, but it wasn't like we had any other choice.

My senses were still heightened when we walked into yet another motel room. My encounter with that agent was relatively uninteresting but since we ad left her alive, I was afraid she was going to find us. I didn't know what was better the guilt of taking a life or this fear of being found. But deep down inside I knew I did the better thing.

I thoroughly checked the room for anything suspicious even though no one could have really known we were going to stay here for the night. The room was clear, as I knew it would be, and it eased my worries a little bit.

Jack flopped back on one of the beds and reached for the television remote and flipped it on. I was far too keyed up to sit back and relax. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins, ready for anything that could happen. I paced in front of the window, burning off this energy and on my toes if they found us.

I started to think about if we would actually ever be safe again. The government didn't seem like it wanted to let me out of its grip and I wasn't exactly going to let them find me. Or willingly let them take me. I didn't know what they would do to me and I was afraid to find out. If any movie ever was true, the government never had anything good in mind when they wanted to find out why someone was different. Mutant. Defective.

Thinking negatively and doubting our abilities wasn't a road I wanted to go down, but I was afraid. I wondered what we would find in Washington. Would we find the answers we were looking for? Or would we just be left with even more questions? What if my initial gut feeling was right and we just find some greasy, acne-ridden teenager behind a computer screen in his parents' basement? What if this was all for nothing? What if I uprooted mine and Jack's life for nothing at all?

What if?

"What are you doing?" Jack asked. He was lounged casually, looking just as at ease as I when we were at his apartment only three weeks ago.

I stopped my pacing and looked at him. "I'm just lost in thought." Spiraling thoughts. Thoughts threatening to tear apart any confidence I had in us.

"What are you thinking about?"

I opened my mouth to tell him. I wanted to tell him, but I also didn't want to burden him with my own doubts. So I closed my mouth and stared at him.

He patted the empty area next to him. "Come here."

My energy was still running high but I wouldn't say no to curling up next to him. It might calm me down. I walked over to the bed and climbed under the sheets. He was nice and warm through his t-shirt and jeans. His chest made a really comfortable pillow, too.

"Nothing," I said against his chest. "I was thinking about nothing important."

He made a noise that vibrated through his chest and my head. "Okay. Are you hungry? We never got to eat." He shifted his hand to my arm and started lazily moving his hand up and down the length of my forearm. It was a comforting, relaxing motion.