FAKE

seven

It has been a total of 9 days that we have ventured through the unknown towns.

The shadows of sleeplessness under my eyes are starting to rival Ross'.

I am now encouraging him to move to another country about twice daily. I wouldn't have had to leave my house, or find him alive, or overwork myself through exhaustion while he never tells me why.

In a daze, I begin to walk past him as he stops. Ross grabs my wrist and pulls me in a different direction towards a small convenience store.

"Got any money?"

"A little."

"Great. I'm starving."

We enter the run-down looking store. The first thing I notice is the horrible musty stench.

The second is the cockroach that scrambles over my shoe while looking for food.

I choke back a scream, knowing I'll be shamed for freaking out over a bug.

Ross finds two small bags of popcorn that are dirt cheap. We only spend two dollars in total on the popcorn and a miniature bottle of 5-hour-energy.

We leave and suddenly transform into ravenous beasts. Ross downs the energy concoction like it's an alcoholic shot then rips open the bag of popcorn. I am already halfway through my own bag by the time he starts.

For the next few minutes, we are both silent, eating and finding every crumb we can shake out of the bags.

Ross crumples up his bag and stuffs it in his pocket.

"There's a bus stop a mile and a half from here. We're headed there. Hopefully we'll be there by four."

My tired mind is grateful for a full explanation of our plans today. I shove my own empty bag into my backpack, wishing there was a little more.

I boredly braid a section of my hair as we walk. Ross has the distant look in his eyes that gives me a faint idea that I shouldn't disturb him.

Plus, the quiet is nice. I too, get a moment to think a little and try to wrap my head around everything that has happened. I have so many questions of the events, and its frustrating to know I won't receive answers in return.

***

My feet are aching from the travel, but at last we'd made it to the bus station. My first instinct was to to sit on the bench at the bus stop, so here I am, watching Ross stare blankly at the road. He finally sits down next to me, but subtly distant. His gaze flickers around the small section of buildings and people walking past and cars. Nothing has ever looked so suburban and wonderful after 9 days in the middle of nowhere.

I breath in the near-toxic blend of city air. The smell of gasoline, nearby vendors, and cigarettes almost make me feel at home. I glance over at Ross, looking for his reaction, but he has found a payphone and is discussing something with someone.

Whether or not I want to know, I'm not sure.