Never 18

Chapter 10

The hum of the camper's engine fills the silence as the boy settles into the seat beside me. For a moment, the world outside the windshield blurs—the ocean, the cliffs, the trees lining the highway—while I try to wrap my head around the surreal moment. This is the boy from the beach. He sits next to me now, calm as ever, like this is no big deal, like we're old friends picking up where we left off.

But it is a big deal. At least to me.

Dad glances at him through the rearview mirror, still giving off that subtle "protective parent" energy, which I can't entirely blame him for. Dana, on the other hand, switches from being half asleep to wide awake, her excitement practically radiating off her as she stares at the boy like he's some kind of movie star.

"So... where you headed?" Dad asks, his tone casual but with a hint of suspicion. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes shifting between the road and the boy.

The boy smiles, brushing his messy hair back. "South, same as you, I guess. No specific destination, just seeing where the road takes me."

Dad nods, but I can tell he's not completely sold. "You traveling alone?"

"Yes," the boy answers, leaning back in his seat. "Name's Liam, by the way."

"Liam," Dana says, trying out the name as if it's a rare gem she's just found. "I'm Dana, and this is Linda."

"Nice to meet you both," Liam says, flashing that grin again, the one that seems to light up his whole face. "And thanks for the ride. Seriously. I was starting to think I'd be walking forever."

"No problem," I say, finally finding my voice. "We're, uh, kind of just winging it ourselves. No set plans, just a road trip with no real destination."

Liam's eyes brighten at that. "Sounds perfect to me. No expectations, no rush. Just seeing what happens."

There's something about the way he says it—like he really means it, like he's genuinely okay with the unpredictability of life. I'm not sure if I admire that or if it terrifies me. Maybe a little of both.

As the camper rolls along the winding coast, conversation drifts naturally between us. Liam has an easygoing way about him, like he belongs everywhere and nowhere at once. He talks about the places he's been—small towns, forgotten diners, hidden campsites. There's a certain vagueness to his stories, though, like he's always leaving out something important. But I don't push him. I don't want to be that person, the one who pries too much.

Dana, of course, isn't as subtle. She leans over the seat, hanging on every word, bombarding him with questions. "Where did you grow up? How old are you? How long have you been traveling? Do you, like, just live out of your backpack? That's so cool! What's the best place you've ever been to?"

Liam laughs, amused by her barrage. "Slow down. One question at a time." He runs a hand through his hair. "Let's see... I grew up in Virginia. I'm 19 years old. I've been on the road for about a year now, more or less. And yeah, I guess you could say I live out of my backpack. Can't carry a house on my back."

Dana's eyes widen. "A year? You've been traveling alone for a year?"

"Pretty much," he says, his voice casual, like it's no big deal. "Met some people along the way, but I always end up moving on. It's just how it goes. I got bored with life back home, so I decided to wander around a bit."

I glance at Liam, trying to read him, but his expression remains open, friendly, and calm. He doesn't seem to mind the questions, but I can tell there's more to his story than he's letting on. Something about the way he answers, like he's deliberately keeping parts of himself hidden. And I get it. We all have our secrets, right?