The Night

Allergic to Back Seats

We have been driving for about two hours and I’m getting pretty bored. I’m really only looking out the window at typical road signs that everyone has seen a million times. I clutch my arm right above my elbow and I squeeze my backpack in between my knees.

I was so nervous to talk, I mean the guy had a gun in reaching distance, but there are so many things that I don’t understand right now. There are so many questions in my head that I really need answered, like now, but I also have no clue who this kid is and I don’t know how he’ll react to anything I say. Frankly, let me just say, I rather not get shot in the face today by this crazy kid.

“How do you know my name?” I blurted out. I’m so nervous of his answer that seconds turn to minutes, I tighten my grip on my arm, and my knuckles start to turn a slightly white.

“You don’t need to know,” he finally says.

I release my arm and the air I’ve been holding in without noticing. That’s not the answer I wanted, but by his serious attitude I figured that was the answer I was going to get.

 I decided to drop it; I have a feeling that I’m not going to get the answer to that question anytime soon. I still need to know more, though. Okay, Rosemary, just calm your tits and talk to him like you’re talking to one of your friends. 

“You don’t have to call me Rosemary,” I said as I turn towards him now sitting crisscross sideways in my seat, “You could call me Rose, or Rosie, or Mary…” As I look at his face I see him tightening his grip on the steering wheel, as his knuckles are starting to turn white just as mine did before. I add, “Or even Mar, which I think is a little weird, but-,”

“I’ll stick with Rosemary,” He cut me off, and then he lightened up on his grip on the steering wheel.

 “You really don’t have t-,”

“Rosemary is your name, right?” He interrupted me again being all serious.

 I nod signaling that he was correct.

“Then that’s what I’m going to call you,” he says never taking his eyes off of the road.

“That’s cool I just don’t really like the name Rosemary for me,” now something really weird is happening I saw his serious face kind-of, barely, almost smile. I don’t even think what I said was that funny, I mean I was just saying the truth. I really just didn’t think that Rosemary fits me.

“So, what’s your name?” I ask. Something else weird is happening, when I asked that question I could almost see a glimmer of sadness enter his eyes. Jeeze, this guy changes his emotion a lot. Is he PMSing or something?

“I’m Zac,” he finally answers.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I’m not really sure what to say right now. I still want so many of my questions answered, but I know he won’t answer more than half of them, so I just looked out the window to distract myself so that I wouldn’t think about how long the car ride would be. Wait a minute; I have no idea how long I’m going to be in the car because I have no idea where we are driving to.

“Umm, where are we going?” I ask Zac.

“Florida,” He answers.

“Florida, as in other side of the country Florida?” I say completely surprised.

“That’s the only Florida there is.”

“That’s cool. My best friend Kendall went to Florida in July and she totally invited me, but my parents were super mean about it and they kept on saying ‘no’.”

“Figures,” he says. I don’t really know what he means, but whatever. Anyways, my parents are completely unfair all of the time.

“Pretentious asshole,” I mutter as I go to look out of the window and hope he didn’t hear me.

I think we have been driving for about four and a half hours. Suddenly, my stomach starts growling. With everything that has happened today I completely forgot that I haven’t eaten since like one o’clock.

“Zac,” I say.

“Yeah,” He replies.

“I’m really hungry.”

He looks off the road for a second at a road sign that says at the next exit is a town named Hardin, Montana. “Since it’s 7:30pm I guess we can stop in Hardin for the night.”

We pulled off at the exit and got in the drive thru line at McDonalds, which are freaking everywhere! So, it was just kind-of the easiest thing to do for food. Now that I got my food he pulled over on the side of the road and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

“What are you doing?” I question him.

“Pulling over the car so we can sleep,” he says.

“I am NOT sleeping in a car.”

There is probably food stuck in those seats back there and then he expects me to put my head in that same exact spot. Hell, he probably bought this as a used car; who knows what has happened in that back seat before I got here.

 No.

 No.

 No.

I am allergic to back seats, well, at least sleeping in them.

“Yes you are,” he argues with me.

“No I’m not.”

“Fine,” he says pissed off as he puts the keys back in the ignition and starts the car.

We drove to the closest motel and checked in for one night. As I exit the car I see a bullet hole in the back seat door on the driver’s side, so I guess he really did save my life. I was just saying that to myself for extra emphasis.

The room was pretty dated and shabby, but a bed is way better than an uncomfortable car seat. There is only one bed, so I’m sleeping on the bed and Zac is sleeping on the floor. I jump into bed and cuddle up to the disgusting motel sheets.

“Zac, the license plates on the car are from Iowa, is that where you from?” I question him.

“No,” he answers as he makes his bed on the floor by spreading out a sheet and grabbing a pillow from the bed.

“Where are you from?” I wonder.

“You ask a lot of questions. You’re just like your brother.”

“I don’t have a brother. I’m an only child,” I say as I sit up.

“Yes you do he’s a year and a half older than you,” he says to me getting a little frustrated.

“NO I DON’T,” I say getting full on angry at him.

“YES YOU DO,” he says getting full on angry at me now.

I let out a puff of air that escapes from my lips, I crossed my arms, turned off the light, and went to bed completely and totally pissed the hell off at Zac.