A Twist of Fate SERIES (Pentatonix)

(20) Hit the Road, Scömìche

( SCOTT )

"Mitchy, wake up. We're stopped." I gently shake his shoulder, wondering how he could have fallen asleep when he has dance music blasting in his ears. I smile a little; at least he hasn't changed in that sense.

Sleepily, he opens his eyes and takes his earbuds out. "Whoa, I can hear," he says quietly, and then he covers his mouth as he yawns. "Where are we?"

"Central Texas. Sweetwater," I reply. "About three hours from Fort Worth. Everyone else is inside getting snacks."

Mitch nods, and then sets his phone down beside him. "Okay, I'm hungry. Let's go inside."

We're the only ones in here, which I hadn't really expected. But, then again, it's ten-thirty on a Tuesday morning in January; any normal person would be at work right now—certainly not travelling.

"Oo, I'm getting Starbucks," Mitch says immediately, his voice deeper from having just woken up. He starts to walk over towards the kiosk. "You want anything?"

"No, but thank you," I say with a smile. "I'm gonna go see if they need help getting anything." Mitch nods in reply.

It's a pretty small rest stop, more like a gas station convenience store than anything else. Kirstie's over by the refrigerators, her arms full with an assortment of drinks.

"You need help with any of that?" I ask, coming up behind her. Kirstie jumps, a bottle of water falling out of her arms and onto the floor, and I immediately crouch down to pick it up. "Sorry for scaring you. Do you need help?"

"No, I've got it," Kirstie answers, moving her head so she can count all of the drinks. "Um, Kevin went to the bathroom, and Avi's getting candy and stuff. Do you want to get, like, chips, or something? Oh, and where's Mitch?"

"Getting Starbucks," I answer. "And sure. Anything in particular?"

Kirstie reaches down to pull out another bottle of water, saying, "Nope. Just anything and everything."

I walk over to the snacks aisle and survey the array of junk food. Quietly laughing, I mentally remind myself to pick up some extra face masks later, because, with all of this junk food, we're definitely going to need them.

Five minutes later, the five of us stand at the cash register, watching intently as the cashier rings up all of our purchases—chips, crackers, a jar of peanut butter (for me, of course), pretzels, bottles of soda and water, and chocolate bars galore. The total comes out to only be around $18, and Kevin offers to pay for it all.

"Okay, we need to stop at, like, an actual grocery store ASAP," Mitch comments as we all make our way back to the van. "'Cause all you girls got was junk food."

"'Cause that's all they had," I protest, climbing into the back of the van with the plastic grocery bag full of chips and crackers.

"Yeah, but we need, like, apples, or something," Mitch replies, following me.

"How are we gonna keep them cold, though? They'll rot if they're not refrigerated, and we didn't bring a cooler," I say.

"Well, all of the drinks are gonna go bad, too," he replies, taking a sip of his coffee. "So, we can stop at whatever grocery store they have out here and get some actual food."

I sigh in disgust. Why is he trying to prolong this trip—the trip that is already too long to begin with?

"What are you two bickering about?" Kevin asks, climbing into the driver's seat. "I can hear you from outside the van."

I open my mouth to speak, but Mitch interrupts. "I think we need something other than sugar and junk food for this long-ass ride, considering we're gonna be living off of McDonald's and snacks for the next day, but Scott over here doesn't think we need to."