Alan Ashby ~ Partners In Crime. (2015)

What's Your Emergency?

"Alex?" Alan reached over and pulled my earbuds off.

"What part of 'you rip out my earbuds I rip out your lungs don't you understand?"

"But this in an emergency..." Alan whined. I laughed.

"What's your emergency?"

"You wanna stop and get McDonald's?"

"Hella." I said as we passed the sign with a big yellow M on it. Alan pulled off the highway and into the parking lot of the gas station and restaurant. There was a few dusty cars parked here and there, and an employee smoking a cigarette around the side of the building, looking bored. We parked away from the gas station part and Alan opened the door for me as we walked inside the fast food joint. I thanked him with a smile as we got out food. Alan payed - I thanked him again - and we sat at a booth away from the rest of the people. The place was mostly filled with truckers and bikers, with a cute old couple sitting in the back laughing softly. A man wearing blue jean overalls and a side ways baseball cap approached us. He had tan orange skin, a scruffy beard, and when he opened his mouth I could see he had more than a few missing teeth. He reeked of sweat and cigarette smoke. I was used to the smoke - I smoked occasionally - but he smelt like shit.

"Well hello ther pretty lady." He said.

"Hi." I said, trying to be polite.

"Whats yer name?"

"Alex." I stated. I felt Alan tense beside me.

"Y'all can call me Pap. Say is that yer boyfreen." I almost threw up at his pronunciation. ENUNCIATE.

"Yes." I said, wanting him to leave me alone. I hated when things like that happened. And I knew Alan wasn't too keen on it either.

"That panzie?" He laughed. "That's her boyfreen!" He called back to his friends. They all laughed and he turned back.

"Fuck off." I spat. "Come on, Alan." I stood and picked up the bag of food, the most important item in the situation. I glared at the man before Alan followed me out of the building.

"What the fuck is his problem?" Alan sighed loudly as we walked back to the car.

"I dunno." I said. "Just-"

"You's just a whore anyways!" 'Pap' called. Alan stopped dead in his tracks.

"Alan lets just go." I begged. Alan started back angrily. "Alan!" I called, not wanting to start a fight. I just wanted to drive, and eat, and forget about that shit head, and eat.

"What did you call her?" he grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and lifted him so his toes were hardly touching the gravel. 'Pop' repeated himself and Alan released him. He turned to walk back to me but I sighed in relief all to soon as Alan spun back around and connected his fist with the mans jaw. He stumbled back as I watched in shock. In one swift kick Alan swept him off his feet and he fell to the ground. Alan kicked him hard again in the ribs and muttered something I couldn't quite hear as he walked right past me and got in the car. I walked over and got in the car in shock as we drove. We ate our food in silence before I spoke up.

"You didn't have to do that." I said, taking a large sip of my cola from its red and orange paper cup.

"Yes I did." Alan said surely. Just them I noticed his hand was bloodied and bruised where he punched 'Pop' and his knuckles on his left hand were white from gripping the steering wheel far to tight.

"Your hand...." I muttered.

"It's fine."

"At least let me wrap it or something you're gonna get blood everywhere." I sighed. I dug around in the glove box and found a white box with a red cross on it. "Pull over." I commanded. He did and we both got out. It looked like we were near a city, just a few miles, and we were just on the edge of a thin looking forest that ended in the direction of the city in less than one mile. Alan leaned on the passenger door of his car as I put the box on the hood and examined it contents. I pulled out a small bottle of peroxide and gauze. I left the box and walked over to Alan. I opened the bottle and threw the cap down on the grass. "Hold out your hand." He did so and spoke up just before I tipped the bottle onto his wound.

"Is it gonna hurt?"

"Like hell." I nodded. I poured the liquid on his hand and I knew it hurt because his entire arm tensed and he gritted his teeth. "If it doesn't hurt its not working." I said, sounding disgustingly motherly. I threw the empty plastic bottle back and started wrapping Alan's hand gently but tightly.

"How do you even know how to do this?"

"My friends punch each others faces when they're bored. I have practice." I shrugged with a laugh. Perry likes making bad decisions and everyone else pays for it. She was nice I swear. Tries to convince me to be a horrible person, but yells at me when I make my own bad decisions. She was like a, slightly corrupted, mother. I finished wrapped his hand and looked up at Alan.

"Thanks Doc."

"Nurse Alex at your service." I did a salute thing and we both laughed as we got back in the car. Alan looked thankful that his hand at least looked a bit better as I downed the rest of my drink. I raked my thick brown hair back from my face with my fingers and thought. What happens at California? Do we go our separate ways? Does Alan really break up with his girlfriend and we go out? Would it even work out? What will Perry say when she finds out where I've actually been and who I was with? She'll probably kill me. But she'll get over it. Would I meet the rest of Alan's band? Who else would I meet? I shouldn't think about this it's weird.

"Hey I was thinking, when we get back to Cali," Alan started. "Do you want to meet the rest of the band? " I laughed in my head. This boy is a mind reader.

"Um, sure." I nodded.

"Good. Kind of told Austin about everything that's happened and he told everyone else and they really wanna meet you." The way his eyes lit up like a kid when he talked was enough to make me smile. It happened whenever he talked about something that made him happy, or excited. It was cute.

"See well now, maybe you've made me sound like something I'm not..." I joked.

"They're gonna love you just relax."

"I know who doesn't love me?" I laughed.

"That is a good question." Alan sighed, shaking his head. I think that was my favorite road trip ever. From New York, to California, with Alan Ashby. The way we met, the driving, the comfortable silence and the laughing, the time in the abandoned building and in the field. The time we fell asleep on the roof of his car. All that's happened today. With two days of solid driving left, I didn't think it could get any better.