we're not on the map but we're on our way

1/3

"We're out of munchies," Ryan says from the passenger seat and empties the last contents of a bag of chips in his mouth.

Jon turns to look at him, his hands on the wheel. "Already? You eat like a horse."

Ryan shrugs in reply and they both look away, through the windshield at the endless highway ahead of them. They have all the windows of the old car rolled down, but the air flying in does nothing to cool their sweating skin. There are three of them in the car, Ryan sighing in boredom every few minutes and flicking from one radio station to another, Jon keeping the car on the road, which isn't really a task as the road is infinite and just goes straight, straight, straight, and then there's the boy in the back, and he doesn't say much, just sits there with a solemn expression and stares at the scenery, refusing to take off his hoodie despite the heat.

The boy in the back has been with them since the morning. A hitchhiker, thumb pointing towards the sky and a bag on his back, the kid didn't even have a sign. He looks young, younger than Jon and Ryan, but no one is asking questions. Ryan has been occupying the passenger seat for a while now, Jon isn't sure how long it's been. Over a week now, but less than two. It's Jon's car. The licence plates say Wyoming, but Jon's never been there.

"We passed a rest stop twenty minutes ago. Don't think we'll get another one in a while," Jon says.

"We're an hour from the Grand Canyon," Ryan points out.

"So?" Jon asks.

"So we could go to the Grand Canyon. I bet there'll be decent shops there, full of souvenirs and shit. You ever been?" Ryan asks, and Jon shakes his head. "I went once with my class back in school. It's pretty cool."

The boy in the back says nothing, and Jon and Ryan don't expect him to speak anyway. He obviously isn't the talkative type, but neither are they. Jon found Ryan, or maybe Ryan found Jon, well, most likely they found each other. But Ryan asked, "Where are you going?" Jon shrugged and said, "Nowhere." And Ryan hopped in somewhere along the West Coast, where they rolled down the windows and tasted the salt in the air. It took them three days to introduce themselves because names had felt out of place at first.

If Ryan went to the Grand Canyon with his class, then Ryan is probably from Arizona or somewhere close by. Jon doesn't ask and doesn't try to answer the question himself. When Ryan threw his rucksack in the back and made himself comfortable on the passenger seat, he had had a black eye and bruises on his face. They've almost faded now, and Jon doesn't ask.

"You don't mind us stopping at the Grand Canyon, do you?" Ryan asks, turning his head to address the boy in the back.

The boy lifts his gaze from the display of rock, yellow rock, brown rock, orange rock, red rock decorating the sides of the road. "No," he replies. As an afterthought he adds, "As long as it doesn't take too long."

"Not at all," Ryan replies, now reaching for the radio and changing the channel. "We'll stop there, have a look around, so we can say, 'been there, done that, got that t-shirt,' buy some more munchies and hit the road. Ah, Tom Petty," he says and settles on a radio station.

Ryan knows a lot about music. Ryan always knows the song, the album it's on and when it came out. Ryan doesn't talk much, but he talks about music.

The boy in the back turns his gaze back to the views flashing by, Jon says nothing, and Ryan hums along to the song.

* * *

College, definitely. At least one semester of it, but not more than a year. The way Ryan rants about modern consumerism and commercialism, about the self-absorbed way of life that is ravishing the Western world indicates that he once got sucked into the thrills of intellectual debate and now doesn't know how to stop.