FAKE

six

The morning air is crisp, as fall is descending over us. I had been idiotic enough not to pack a jacket for myself, so as I shivered, Ross made not intention of letting me borrow his.

Typical.

As we approach the lobby, Ross grabs my hand, and his fingers lace with mine forcibly. I try to jerk away at his invasive action but he grips my hand.

"We're in love, remember?" He reminds me, looking aggravated. I relax a bit, recalling last night's little act.

"Right." I mutter, though my fingers are itching to pull away from his. Even though it was such a familiar and comforting thing back then, it's unnatural and violating now.

Ross walks inside and hands the room key to the attendant at the desk, who is different from the last.

"Alright, I'll pull up your final cost-"

"We already paid when we checked in, thank you." Ross quickly cuts him off before the man can type into his database.

"Okay- then you're all done?" The man obviously looks confused by Ross' behavior. Ross nods and turns around, and leads me back outside.

"Where are we?" I ask, suddenly realizing how lost we are.

"In the same state." He shrugs. I turn my head to look at him.

"What town?" I asked, irritated once again by the indirect answer.

"Dunno." He shrugs. We walk far enough away that the motel clerk cannot see us any longer, and I finally free my hand from his. I throw him his shirt that had been shoved under my own and take my backpack.

"So where are we going?" I ask and study his features expectantly. Ross pauses and looks up at the sky, particularly in the direction of the morning Sun.

"East is that way, but base is South-" He mumbles to himself.

"Well?" I ask, feeling slightly arrogant that he does not have a plan, and in his moment of decision looks just as confused and lost as I am.

"North." He announces and starts in that direction. I walk alongside him.

"So why are we running?"

"Would you stop asking questions?" His voice is monotone, but I can tell he is slightly irritated by my curiosity.

"Not until you answer. Why are we running?" I repeat. Ross looks at me with a sharp huff.

"Because I'm being tracked down."

"For what?"

"None of your business, Eaton." He snaps and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. I shrug.

"Fine. Be like that, mystery man."

"Don't call me mystery man."

"Fight me."

"Just shut up." He mutters. His eyebrows are knit together as if he is concentrating on something important. I'd ask, but he wouldn't answer.

Ross runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair. I haven't gotten used to it yet, because he always bleached it out back then.

Back then.

My thoughts spiral away for a split second in a kaleidoscope of nostalgia. Back then, in those days, when I was dizzy with joy, blind with emotion, drunk with innocence.

I was stupid then. I still feel stupid now.

I can feel my thoughts leaving me and pull them back to regain my sanity.

I have no need to look back at how he was. Only look ahead, at the miles and miles of deserted road in front of us.

"I've got it." Ross suddenly announces, and his strides become more confident.

"Got what?"

"Where we'll be going."

"Wow, you actually answered me." I roll my eyes. Ross gives me his familiar cold stare in return.

"So you can't tell me anything that's happened since you left?"

"Nope." He scoffs.

"Well, thanks." I look towards the direction we are headed, then down at my feet. Wet dew clings to my shoes, and behind me a pair of footprints echo or footsteps.

"Can they find us with those tracks?" I ask.

"Depends on how close they are behind us." Ross shrugs, unfazed by my hint of worry. "It'll evaporate soon enough anyways."

"If you say so."

We march on like weary soldiers, all while the sun shines down on mystery man and I.