How to Survive Z-Day Without Looking Like a Jerk But Still Looking Pretty Badass

FILE #9

It must have been around 6 in the morning.

I awoke with Jett's knees right in my face, as he was sort of squished between the middle and back row of seats like some sort of burrito.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Exclaimed Jett, swiveling around to lay on his side.

"Whatever," I yawned. I must have had about 3 hours of sleep, and Jett's stupidity was not something I look forward to first thing in the morning.

"We're about ten minutes from Porter's aunt's- a safehouse- and we're g-gonna rendezvous there-" Ryan was interrupted by a particularly nasty yawn, "and hide out for the day. We'll head out around ten tonight." Ryan was an inspiration, I thought. It's no wonder everybody who met him became instantly enamored. With his face now much too ashy and his eyes much too sunken, it was hard not to pity him, but something about the bastard forbade it.

God, this sounds like some sort of bad teen smut.

Jett shot up at the word "house." We hadn't showered or slept underneath a warm comforter in 12 hours; this was similar to saying Jesus was coming back down to join us all for tea.

"With beds?"

"Yeah,"

"And warm food?"

"Mm."

"And Porter?" Raynee interjected from the front seat.

"ts what I just said," Ryan pathetically tried to stifle a yawn. It didn't work. I sighed, watching the tips of the trees pass by from my impromptu bed, and ran a hand through Jett's hair.

Wait, what?

"The hell was that for?" I made a show of rubbing my fingers together and not smirking at Jett's shiver.

"Your hair is greasy. You shower first," He rolled his eyes at me, then returned my poorly-hidden smirk.

"You want this fine ass, don't you?" A twinkling in his blue... green- I didn't know what the hell they were- eyes. Stupid!

"Not even in your most moist dreams, kid."

"Quit your sexual tension, you two, and- oh! Here we go," Ryan said with a glimmer of his usual sarcasm, turning swiftly onto a long gravel driveway.

Jett and I shot up immediately, looking at the cute, stilted log cabin in front of us. The view was honestly both nerve-wracking and breathtaking, and I would have been freaking out had I not been so excited to get to a shower.

Porter and a woman who appeared to be in her early 30's immediately popped out of the front (more like side, since the front door would lead to a drop of almost a mile had it not been for a balcony) door. She was obviously one of Porter's relative- same slim build, same silvery-blonde hair, same sunken blue eyes. Had she been older, she could have been his mother.

What set them apart were their smiles- Porter's oh-so-obvious as we got out of the car.

"I'm psyched to see you guys- but get your asses inside before the feds come!" We didn't even bother to unpack. Raynee rushed inside with Porter as Ryan went to exchange pleasantries with Ms. Porter's Aunt. Jett and I, in a fit of childish glee, raced each other to the front door where we almost tumbled over an invonveniently-placed couch holding an inconveniently-placed Dahlin.

"You assholes! You almost made me spill my coffee," Ah, I had forgotten how much I loved Dahlin. She was easy to love at first, yes, with her strawberry-blonde hair and classic, 40's glamour nuance. But no.

She was much more abrasive than I, but the more bitchy she was to you usually meant she liked you well enough.

"Nice to see you too, Dahlin!" Jett said, hugging her. Dahlin was 17, Ryan's age, and had sort of been a surrogate sister to me in my younger days.