behind the streams | dnf

twenty two | excuses

GEORGE

He clutches his phone in a way that the screen is pointedly turned towards me. Whether unintended or on purpose, I recognize the opportunity.

Almost instinctively, I lean over and press the red button with my finger. The insistent ringing ceases.

Sapnap looks down immediately and gapes at me, face twisted into an irate configuration. "What the fuck?"

I startle, and sink slightly into my seat. "You planned to answer him?"

I see the conflict embed itself in his features as his mouth opens and closes several times. He purses his lips together and pushes on the gas pedal. "I wouldn't have hung up on him."

Turning to my right, I grab my seatbelt as he exits out of the gas station. "What were you going to say then?"

His shoulder rise and fall with a heavy breath. "I don't know." He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

"What are we going to say?"

I stare at him helplessly.

A beam of morning sunlight flares through the windshield, pinpointing straight at my eye. The sky only gets brighter with an in-proportionate speed. I can see the tell-tale glows over the trees in the distance.

Sapnap lets out an exasperated groan as I shield the blinding gleam with my hand. I look at him and see that he's pulling out his phone again. "What are you doing?"

"I don't even know how to get back to his house, chill." I watch as he opens iMessages and his texts with Dream. He copy-pastes the address and types it into the system.

It's about 15 minutes away. I can hardly even remember the drive here, a memory that has only identified itself as a blur of rain and silence and cold, somewhere between a second and a lifetime long.

He's turning right from the gas station. I see a highway up ahead, faintly reminescent of the one I remember.

"That's the exit, right? The one we used?" I point ahead. He nods and centers the steering wheel again.

A change in the light at the intersection brings the car to a slow deceleration. I assume it's the top color of the three, seeing that it's the only one blurred by the raindrops on the windshield, and it's slightly brighter than the other two.

I look out my window, surveying the umimpressive stores that line the roads. This area in general seems remarkably old and beat-down, complementary to the gas station and its state.

A specific store catches my eye and I immediately sit up.

Quickly I alert him with my hand, hitting him on the arm several times too many. He swats me away defensively, but I can hardly feel it. "What is it?"

"There's a coffee shop there. And it's open."

"Okay?" His confusion is evident. In his voice I can hear an irk as well.

My eyebrows furrow as I look at him. Isn't it obvious?

"We need an ex-cuse." My words are choppy and drawn out, like I'm explaining something to a kindergartener.

His expression clears. The car backs up slightly before changing into another lane. Thankfully, there's no one else on the same road as us right now that would have probably flipped Sapnap off otherwise.

The light changes to what I assume is green, seeing that the focus has shifted from the top circle to the bottom. Sapnap turns right instead of advancing to the highway.