"Abigail says that she'll meet us in Brooklyn when we get there," Hayden announces an hour later, nudging me with his elbow to get my attention. "We'll go from there."
I look at him through a haze of sleepiness and rub my eyes, nodding. "Sounds good." Yawing, I stretch, feeling the ache in my muscles pull from sitting in one position for so long. "Any chance we could stop and get a bite to eat? I'm starving."
Long car rides make a girl hungry. And if Hayden and I want to last through this road trip without ripping each other's throats out, being hungry—and severely grouchy because of it—isn't the best option.
Hayden chuckles and I brace myself for his douchebag reaction, an insult ready on the tip of my tongue. Surprisingly, he nods in agreement, but I don't let my guard down, watching him closely when he answers,
"That's fine."
Hayden maneuvers to an exit ramp that leads to a rest station right on the highway. Or should I say, rest station on steroids. This place looks like a tourist's wonderland. On one side is a parking lot, divided by a gas station fit for about fifty cars, and on the other is a mini-mall decorated with signs from every big fast food chain around.
"This place has a fucking Apple Store," I wheeze. "Why the hell would they have an Apple Store at a highway rest stop?"
"Capitalism," Hayden smirks.
Skipping a few empty spots, Hayden pulls to the nearest available gas pump that just so happens to be next to a Jeep overflowing with sorority girls. He catches me rolling my eyes and chuckles, turning away innocently when I swerve around to give him a hearty death stare.
"Wrinkles, Em."
And when he climbs out of his car and sticks a cigarette between his teeth, I pluck it from his lips and toss it behind me.
"Cancer, Hayden." I remind him. Now he's the one rolling his eyes.
I went inside to discover that not only does this place have an Apple Store, it has its own Macy's, Forever 21, and Kay Jewelers too. You know, just in case you decide to pop the question to your significant other when you guys stopped to pee. There are a few other shops that sell souvenirs (Wisconsin! The Cheese State!) while others are packed with miscellaneous items needed for everyday travel. At the end of the line is a giant bookstore. I can't help myself. I can't just ignore it and walk away!
"I love the smell of books," I mumble to myself. The bookstore is packed with people as well, but it's quieter here, as people are lost in the spines of one great adventure or another.
In the center of the store is a giant display of a popular erotica book that centers on a girl getting kinky with a psycho. The shelves are stacked in order of genre and I smile when the names of my favorite authors come into view: James Patterson, Rick Riordan, Sara J. Maas, and John Green.
"So is there some crazy paper-eating diet I haven't heard about yet?" a warm voice wonders, breath brushing the back of my neck and making me jump.
"No Hayden." When I turn around to face him, I'm caught off guard by how bright red his mouth is—swollen and colored in a way that happens not when someone gets kissed, but when they get hit in the mouth. "What the hell did you do? Make out with a baseball bat?"
"So I flirted with someone's girl?" he grins, flinching. "I kicked his ass."
My lips part in horror. "We've literally been here fifteen minutes and you beat someone up? You beat a guy up in the span of us being here for thirty minutes? Do you want to get arrested?"
"We'll be fine."
I stare at him, skeptical.
"I mean it, Emmy."
"Okay," I sigh. "Whatever. As long as you're not arrested, I could care less." My stomach announces its hunger and ends the conversation.
"Well it looks like we'll be waiting for an hour to get our food," Hayden grumbles when we hazily follow the mouthwatering aroma of French fries and hamburgers.
"Little Red doesn't have much of a wait," a new voice says from behind. Hayden and I turn to an old woman with fluffy white hair, wearing a pink and white shirt that says 'I Love Gardening' across the front in cursive. "I just had lunch there and the food's not that bad, if you don't mind my suggestion of a sit-down place."
"Wow, that's great." I smile brightly, "Thank you."
"A sit-down place?" Hayden complains from beside me, "That's going to take forever. We don't have enough time for that if you want to get to New York—"
"It's better than having to wait forty five minutes just to order our food at McDonald's," I growl between a toothy fake smile. "Don't be rude."
The old woman holds her hand up and laughs. "It's okay. Sometimes they forget to have manners but it's up to us to teach it to them." She laughs again. "What are girlfriends for right?"
I choke at the word 'girlfriend'. "Oh we're not—!"
"You're right about that, I don't know what I would do without her," Hayden gushes and wraps his arm around my waist to pull us together. His action is so quick, I don't know what's going until he presses me against his ribs and plants a kiss on the top of my head. My mouth drops open in a surprised 'o' that the old woman finds absolutely adorable. "Let's go babe!"
"Wait!" I call back to the woman as Hayden Cross drags me away. "We're not—!"
"What was that all about?" I demand when he finally releases me.
"I like to think of it as my little way of getting you back for the car ride," he explains, coolly. "That was fun. It's really cute how you get super red every time I touch you."
I can feel the heat creeping into my body again. "N-no. It's red from rage, Cross. Not from whatever you're thinking."
He acts like he doesn't believe me and clicks his tongue. "Right."
"Yeah," I widen my eyes and nod my head as if speaking to a preschooler.
"Sure," he bobs his head to match me.
"Mmmhmm!"
"Whatever you say!" he continues, looking at everything around us and meeting my eyes with a dangerous smile.
"That's what I'm saying!" I throw my hands in the air.
"Okay!" Hayden pokes me in between the eyes and pushes my head back. I stumble back and almost fall over.
"Hayden Cross you are so—"
"Hello. Sorry for the wait, can I seat you guys?" a hostess interrupts.
Oh thank God!
We make our way to the back at a booth decorated with a vase of pink flowers and an old-style red-and-white-checkered picnic blanket. When we sit and look at our menus, my eyes almost pop out of my head at the sight of a big, juicy hamburger on the front cover.
Hayden peers over his menu at me. I ignore his gaze—which is easy when there's a whole page dedicated to ice cream sundaes.
"This is weird," he begins.
"What? That fact that you and I are about to have a meal together like normal people? Yeah, it passed weird when we decided to go on a road trip together."
"Hi, how are you doing today?" A waiter greets us with a dazzling smile, looking to be about twenty-one and strikingly attractive. His bold, brown eyes contrast magnificently against his pale skin, light hair, and freckles. I give him a small smile, ducking my head and looking down at the menu. "Can I get you started with a drink?" He's talking to me confidently and hasn't regarded Hayden once.
"Can I have lemonade?"
"Anything you'd like. I'll gladly bring it out for you." he says with a wink. I'm blushing furiously at his shameless flirting. It makes my stomach do a little flip. A nametag on his chest reads 'Ben'. Ben looks at Hayden briefly, "And you?" My eyes flicker to Hayden, a small smile on my lips. He glares at the waiter as his hand sits as a fist on the table. Ben waves his hand. "Your drink?"
"Water," Hayden says through clenched teeth. Ben scribbles it down like he doesn't care and turns his attention back to me, giving yet another flirtatious smile.
"I'll be right back with your drink," he purrs.
When Ben leaves, Hayden leans back in his chair and stretches, grumbling about the guy being a total tool. I replace my smile with a disapproving frown and look at him, "What's your problem?" Hayden looks at me with one eye open and shakes his head.
"That guy's a dick."
I rest my arms on the table and lean forward, "You don't even know him."
"I don't need to know him to know that he's a dick," Hayden counters. "And besides, he's in college. And you're in high school. It's weird."
I laugh. "I'm eighteen, remember?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" he demands with an exasperated look. "Plus, you look like you're sixteen so that doesn't count. In fact, it makes it even more gross."
"Oh? What about those sorority girls? You didn't have a problem then."
I wave off his stupid argument, teasing, "Are you jealous, Cross?"
"Here is your lemonade," Ben announces before Hayden can have a meltdown. Too bad, I was going to enjoy that. He carefully places the tall glass in front of me, standing so close that he brushes me with every motion. When he sets the straw down, our hands deliberately brush. Hayden clears his throat and Ben plops the water down in front of him, spilling a little on the table.
I smother a laugh and Hayden glares at me. "So what can I get you?" he asks.
"I'll take your Hamburger Heaven."
"A girl with an appetite," he laughs, "That's really cute."
"Thanks," I flirt, playing with a piece of my hair in a manner I've seen done countless times. Ben's eyes glaze over for a moment but his attention is soon snapped to Hayden when he clears his throat and announces his order for the entire world to hear.
"That guy needs to go get laid somewhere else," Hayden spits when he walks away.
"Oh just stop it. He just wants a good tip. Don't get your boxers in a twist, Cross."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"Are you serious?"
"No."
I rest my cheek on my hand and look down at the table, fed up with everything. Suddenly, Hayden's hand shoots out and he grasps my exposed wrist, yanking it toward him and making me almost bang my face against the table in the process.
"What are you doing?" I demand, trying to pull my hand away. Hayden's grip is stronger than iron and he leans forward, looking at the pale skin. His eyes find the faded pinkish brown splotches that line the soft skin above my tendon, his jaw setting and eyes narrowing.
"What is this?" His voice has a harsh coldness that makes me shiver.
"It's not what you think. They're from when I got attacked by Jason. And when we were in the woods. And..."
And they were marks from a dark time that still haunts me to this very day. Fleeting memories of spending hours in the hospital flash through my mind. For a moment, I can hear the low whirl of the machines that kept my father alive. I can feel his paper-thin skin under my fingertips. I can hear my grandmother wail into the night when she gets a phone call from the hospital, the sound of vodka bottles shattering on the floor, the unbearable silence that soaked into our house when we finally buried him—
I can't bring myself to look at him. Hayden's fingers skim over the light scars. My chest tightens.
I open my mouth to say something when Ben strolls over holding a tray with our food on it. "Here you go!"
Hayden drops my hand and I quickly pull away, shame flooding me as though we were caught doing something we weren't supposed to. It leaves a weird taste in my mouth. Ben the waiter continued to flirt the entire time. Hayden goes on to critique everything the waiter does as though the scars never happened.
* * *
A slight breeze travels from the rushing cars speeding down the highway five hundred feet away. The light blue sky is cloudless and the warmth radiating down makes it hard to keep my eyes open. It's time for another nap. Hayden is the same way, yawning every few seconds, lazily looking around at the other cars in the parking lot.
"Man, I'm tired," he grumbles, climbing into the front seat while I hop in the back. It looks like a struggle to even buckle his seat belt. I gnaw on my bottom lip, eyes darting to Hayden and the clock on the dash.
"If you're tired," I say slowly, settling against the pillows and wrapping a blanket around myself. It feels so good, "Then why don't you take a little nap. For our sake. I don't want you falling asleep at the wheel and killing us."
"That sounds like a good idea."
I close my eyes and snuggle into my blanket, sighing. There is a clicking sound, followed by the door, and the next thing I know, Hayden is climbing into the back of the station wagon as well. "What are you doing?"
He climbs in and kicks his shoes off. "Sleeping. What else?" Pulling a lever, the seats fold back into the trunk, increasing the space, but not by much. My breath catches in my throat when I turn my head and look at him. I can almost count the different shades of color on the bruises adorning Hayden's cheeks and the different shades of light and dark brown that make up his hair. The flecks of silver and blue in his gray eyes stand out. Looking at me with leveled gray eyes, his lips quirks in a half frown and smile, fresh peppermint breath fanning my face.
"I mean in the back!"
"You're not getting this whole back space to yourself," he whispers. But before I can argue, Hayden pulls the blanket over his head, locks the doors, and settles down.
I'm suddenly too exhausted to argue. What's the worst that could happen? I wonder as my body relaxes. The only sound that fills the car is of our leveled breaths and with each moment I'm floating further into dreamland. The weightlessness increases as sleep takes over, vision blurring and eyes closing gently. I feel something strong wrap around my waist and warmth surrounds every inch of me.
It's comforting as I descend into a dream more peaceful than ever before.
* * *