. hour ten .
"You can just say we're lost," George says, "It's fine."
"We're not lost." I lean closer to the steering wheel as if it'll help me see better in the lost. "It's just a backroad."
"We lost service thirty minutes ago," George points out, "We can't even see the maps."
"We just keep going straight," I insist, "We're not lost."
George looks out his window, squinting dramatically. "I see no signs for food or hotels or anything."
"We're not lost," I say it through gritted teeth now.
"I'm hungry y/n," George complains, "and I haven't slept."
"Me neither." I lean my back into the seat again. "We'll get to eat soon."
He crosses his arms. "We need to stock up on snacks tomorrow."
I let out a long sigh, tired of arguing with George. "We only have two more hours till the hotel.
"So you think." George points a finger at me. "We can't even see how much longer or where we're going."
"George." I want to tell him to stop, to just leave me alone. My eyes are fighting to stay open, and the darkness outside isn't helping.
"And then we have twenty-six hours after that," he continues.
My blood boils and irritation seeps in my bones. My hands the steering wheel with the thread of patience I have left..
"That's a lot." George stops to look at my expression now. "Wait, what's wrong with you?"
I let out a frustrated huff, not being able to take it anymore. "You are so annoying, you know that right?"
His jaw clamps shut at the tone of my words. He's partially turned in his seat to face me.
"Do you think that I want to be in this car with you right now?" My hands are strained from holding on so tight. "Do you think this dark road is exactly what I had in mind for this trip?"
"No, of course not." He tries to wave it off. "I just think maybe your GPS is wrong."
"Yeah, exactly." I'm not even hiding my anger anymore. "My GPS, not me, so please stop–"
I stop talking at the sight of my phone lighting up with a notification.
"What are you looking at?" George ask, "Why did you just stop talking?"
"Look." I tilt my head towards the phone, watching the road again. "A notification only means one thing."
"Oh my god." George picks up my phone like it's a sacred item. "Service."
I roll my eyes at how dramatic he's being. "How much longer till we're at the hotel?"
"Hour and a half." He grimaces. "Could we stop for food though? I'm starving."
"Fine." I don't even think about it too much. After how close I was to completely losing it, I think a little food is what we all need. "But I get to pick the place."
O O O
So much for me getting to pick the place. There was only one place to eat on the road to our hotel, so we stopped for late-night, cheap burgers.
After ordering, I watch George type a decimal number into his notes app. "What are you doing?"
"I'm calculating how much I will spend on this trip," he explains, "Dream's paying for every cent."
I roll my eyes at him, but it's actually a good idea. "He should pay a dollar for every time we argue too."
George chuckles. "Oh, his account would already be drained."
A worker calls out our number. George's ears perk up, and he walks up the counter to grab the bag of food. He smiles and says 'thank you' to them, then he opens the bag to check the contents. His brows furrow.
I'm standing against the back of a booth. I watch the whole interaction. His smile is easily given to the worker, but his brows knit together almost immediately. His hair flops in his face as he turns towards me once again.
He holds up the to-go bag as explanation. "Didn't you say you wanted extra ketchup?" he asks.
"Um." Heat travels to my face, hoping he didn't realize I was watching. He seems more worried about the contents in the bag than me. "Yeah, yeah I did."
He turns his back to me. I let out a long breath of air; I didn't even realize I had been holding it until now.
George lifts an arm to wave the worker down. When they come back, he leans over the counter just slightly. "Can we get some ketchup?"
His fingers tap the counter impatiently while he waits. The place seems to be in no hurry since it's so late, and we're the only customers.
George smiles when the person returns with ketchup. He thanks them once again and turns to leave. He doesn't even check to make sure I'm following with the drinks.
I start walking behind him, wondering how in the world he could go from assuring I had ketchup to leaving me behind to get to the car.
I only catch up when he has to stop for a car pulling into the parking lot. "Do you think this is safe to eat?" he asks, "I feel like there were a lot of health code violations in there."
I shrug, glancing at the worn-down place behind us. "Only one way to find out."
George lets out a little laugh. "I'm not you're poison tester, y/n."
"How did you know I was going to say that?" My jaw goes slack in slight disbelief. "You stole my joke."
He hands me three mini containers of ketchup in return for his drink. "You're predictable," he says.
"My jokes are not predictable." I open the driver side door.
"Then how did I know?"
I squint at him. "Get out of my brain."
He laughs. "What?"
"You got in there somehow in these past eleven hours, and I need you to politely get out." I shrug like it's obvious. "It's the only explanation."
George's eyes widen like I'm crazy. "Yeah, sure."
We eat in the parking lot with the car doors locked. The place gets creepier as time goes on; shadows cast across the parking lot. A couple times I almost drive out of here because I'm so sure a person is walking towards our car. Needless to say, we eat a little faster than usual.
Something very obviously moves in the bushes right in front of the car, and that's my breaking point. "That's it, we're getting back on the road."
The food acted as a fuel, so I feel more awake. We only have an hour until we're at the hotel. George eats his fries slowly while I drive.
"Did I get fries?" I ask after a while, realizing I never ate any.
"Yeah." George doesn't even check the bag.
"Can you hand me some?"
He grabs the little box of fries from the to-go bag before pausing. "How are you going to eat and drive at the same time?"
"I am very talented," I assure him.
"That's not safe." He shakes his head. "I think it's actually against the law."
"How am I going to eat my fries then?" I ask, slightly mad that I still haven't gotten a single fry.
He just sits there for a second and then awkwardly laughs. "I don't know. How do we do this?"
I open my mouth. "Here."
Now he really laughs. "No, that's– No."
I roll my eyes and hold my palm face out. He places a couple fries in it for me to eat.
"Thank you," I say before popping one in my mouth.
author's note:
for those of you following my geography problems in the previous chapter, montana is the state 36 hours away. i have no clue how i got those confused, but i am still embarrassed.
i swear i googled it before writing, but apparently i googled it wrong.
thank you guys for 3k! have an amazing day :))