This isn't weird.

The Right Questions

 "Aw, look at your cute little sleepy face," Millie cooed with a giggle as Ben slid into the passenger seat of her car. She pushed a warm paper cup into his hand. "Are you sure you can do it?"

Ben blinked hard several times before taking a long slurp of coffee. This time, the dire need to be caffeinated drastically increased his willingness to partake; it almost tasted good, even. Had she added a pinch of nutmeg? "Mmmhmm," he mumbled. "I'm hype. Hype as—"(he yawned)"—fuck."

He really had tried his hardest to get a good night's sleep. His lack of hiking experience, he hoped, could be made up for with sheer energy and enthusiasm. But turning off his mind long enough to actually sleep had been no small challenge. It had turned in incessant circles as he tried to reconcile his worldview with the thrilling revelations of the past week. In the moments before finally drifting into a few meager hours of sleep, he had almost managed to convince himself that Millie McKillip was absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent, beyond a shadow of a doubt, obviously in love with him. It was only the absurd misunderstanding about his sexuality that had kept them apart for all this time—well, that, and his own cowardly reluctance to ask if she was attracted to men. Now she knew, and he knew. Her current relationship was in shambles, and she had gladly allowed him to take Genevieve's spot on their long-awaited romantic hiking trip.

This was it.

It was finally going to happen.

But when his shrieking alarm jolted him awake at 4:00 AM, and he laid exhausted in bed in the early morning darkness, his confidence was gone, and his stomach was in knots. Perhaps he had set his hopes too high. Perhaps this whole thing was a greater risk than he had let himself believe. He was far too tired to trust his own judgment. Climbing into her car, he felt sick with fear that he had made a terrible mistake, but when she passed him the coffee, the thoughtfulness of the gesture and her cheerful teasing eased his nerves a little.

"Don't worry. It's like a three hour drive. You can nap on the way," Millie said with a gentle pat on his forearm. He could still feel the warmth of her hand on his skin long after she had brought it back to the steering wheel.

"Oh, thank god," he sighed, collapsing back onto his seat. He hated himself for feeling relieved. Already his plan was falling apart. Those hours were supposed to be spent making her laugh, watching the sun rising over the horizon together, setting the tone for the rest of the day.

"I'll try to be quiet," Millie whispered. "Any music requests?"

"Mmmn–nnh," he mumbled in reply. "Dealer's choice."

"Sure. Hm... something soft. Oh, I've got a Simon & Garfunkel playlist that should be nice to sleep to."

"Simon & Garfunkel?" Ben repeated, turning his head to look at her. He couldn't help but smile. Her quaint obsession with music twice her age had always been hopelessly endearing to him. "Man, my dad would just love you."

Millie smirked. "Oh yeah? Is he single?"

The joke bothered him more than it should have. "Ick, gross. You're gross."

"That's no way to speak to your future stepmother."

"Ugh. How about we start with The Sound of Silence?"

"You got it, son."

"I hate you."

"And yet, here you are."

By the time they made it to the highway, Ben had already dozed off. He drowsed in and out of pleasant sleep, his dreams occasionally penetrated by the sound of Millie's airy voice singing along to the music. When his eyes finally opened again, the sun was up, and the morning light shining through her hair lit it up with an amber glow that made him sure that he was still dreaming.