"Joey," I whine as we bump along down the road.
"We've been driving for hours!" I continue in a voice that is sure to annoy him.
He doesn't answer, so I glance over at him expectantly.
He is pale, and beads of sweat are dripping from his face.
"Are you okay?" I prod in a concerned voice.
Finally he glances over at me, and chuckles nervously.
"Yeah. Uh, why wouldn't I be?" He asks, tapping his shaking hands on the wheel.
I raise an eyebrow hesitantly.
"You're pale, you're sweating, and your hands are shaking," I point out. Why is he acting so weirdly?
He gives a small smile, but doesn't reply.
I don't bother to strike up any sort of conversation after that.
YOU ARE READING
On The Run
AdventureCliché chick lit story? Nah. This is life or death. *UNDERGOING MAJOR EDITING*
