Something I Need

3: Money

        "Fiona," Ricky said, patting Fiona on the knee to get her attention. She looked up from where her nose had been buried in her book. "It's starting to get dark. Do you want to stop for the night?"

        "Yeah," she agreed, glancing over at Todd, who was curled up with his feet up on the dashboard, already asleep. "I guess we're sleeping in here, though. There's not room in the budget for hotel rooms or anything."

        "Right," Ricky nodded, glancing over to check her expression. He seemed amused as he added, "What budget is that, exactly?"

        Fiona hummed as Ricky pulled off into the first exit. "The one I calculated in my head before we came to ask you to join us. Gas money, food money, tolls. Not enough money for a hotel."

        Ricky glanced at Fiona in the rear view mirror, but said nothing as he pulled into a gas station and turned off the engine. "I figure I'll just fill up and park across the street there for the night. Oh, uh, unless you wanted to drive?"

        Fiona raised her eyebrows. "It's your car. I'll drive if you want, but I don't want you to feel like you have to let me. We've got time to stop for the night."

        "Really?" Ricky questioned, twisting around in his seat to look her in the eyes.

        Fiona cleared her throat. "Well, no, not really. But if we consistently drive ten miles per hour over the speed limit for the next 50 miles--"

        "So, you're going to drive then?" Ricky interrupted, smiling tiredly at Fiona as her fingers twitched uncomfortably over the cover of her book. She nodded faintly, slipping her shoes back on and opening her car door to slip out into the cool night. She left her book behind, rejected on the backseat as she shoved her hands into the pouch at the front of her sweatshirt, eyes flitting rapidly over the grimy surroundings.

        "I'm a very good driver," Fiona assured, bottom lip captured between her teeth following the completion of her sentence. She breezed past Ricky and into the driver's seat as he stood at the pump, left hip leaning against the car, right hand holding the nozzle in place.

        With the blue-tinted gas station lights shining all around him, Fiona could see the appeal. His reflection seemed to have a brighter aura than that of the driver the next car over, with his deep black hair beginning to curl at the ends and tuck gently around his ears. His bottom lip was pierced on the left, as well as his tongue and left eyebrow. All along his right ear, there were piercings from the lobe to the very top. The way the light caught the metal that sat atop the slightly pointed tip of his ear made him look five years younger and twice as tired, somehow. 

        In fact, really studying Ricky made Fiona feel quite plain in comparison. She was nothing all that special, she argued. She had plain, average, European features. Brown hair, brown eyes, slim frame like that of a bird, and a taste for baggy pastel clothes. She was uninteresting to look at, she thought, especially compared to Ricky, who had an entire graphic novel mapped out across his skin, an odd fashion sense with both punk and bohemian influences, and the sort of personality people wished they had.

        Fiona glanced over at Todd as he slept, bronze hair falling soft against the sharp edges of his profile, with his long, straight eyelashes fanning against the tops of his cheekbones. This was the most innocent he ever seemed to look, Fiona decided. The most peaceful, surely. Todd did a lot of questioning and wondering, which led to a lot of worrying. Ultimately, Fiona feared his sleep was the only time Todd's mind truly took a break.

        When Ricky slid back into the car, smelling faintly of gasoline and cigarette smoke (a troubling combination), Fiona patiently waited to hear the whir and click of his seat belt before adjusting her mirrors, seat position, and then starting the car. She glanced behind herself twice-- once in the mirror, once over her shoulder-- accidentally catching Ricky's gaze twice in the process. She kept her grip as light as she felt possible on the steering wheel, grimacing at memories of her ring finger falling asleep with too tight a grip. 

        She left the radio off, completely tuning out Todd's steady breathing and the rustling of Ricky's movement from behind her. To Fiona, driving was among the most terrifying concepts ever created by mankind, and therefore should be taken extremely seriously. In fact, Todd knew better than to try and talk to Fiona during a drive; it wasn't that she wanted to ignore him, it was just that all her attention was placed on the road. 

        "How sick is he?" Ricky asked, after nearly half an hour of driving in silence.

      They'd, by then, made it to an empty stretch of highway, barely any other cars within view. Fiona's shoulders had slowly slumped back into a more relaxed position, her head leaning back against the headrest of the seat. "Thought you were sleeping," she replied, eyes not moving from the road, illuminated almost eerily by the headlights. 

        "I did sleep," Ricky responded, changing positions once again. "I can't sleep all that well in moving vehicles. Movement means go in my mind."

        "He's very sick," Fiona replied. "He's got a malfunctioning liver."

        "Oh," Ricky said. "And they're giving him a new one?"

        "Yes, at first he'd been on the waiting list for months, but his condition progressed so rapidly-- they moved him up so fast, we hadn't even thought about coming to California this early."

        Ricky was silent for a moment, the only sound in the car being the slight shudder in each of Todd's low exhales, along with the quiet rumble of the empty highway. "You're a really good sister."

        "Thank you," Fiona replied, daring to take her eyes off the road to check Ricky's expression in the mirror. "It was very nice of you to come along with your car. I don't know how to pay you back for this, honestly."

        Ricky shook his head, a fond smile taking over his tired eyes. "No worries about money-- or budgets, for that matter. I was just going to sit around all summer. Money's like... money is so petty when it comes to adventures. Money is like, if somebody told you that you could press a button and change the world for the better-- but it cost you all the money you've ever earned-- you'd do that, right? This is one of the craziest, coolest things I've ever done. Money's so insignificant right now, there's no real currency of adventure."

        "Right," Fiona replied, for lack of another thing to say in reply to that. How could anybody reply to that, as Ricky rambled on in his sleepy, rough voice, eyelids drooping more with each animated movement of his hands.

        "My parents are going to kill me-- you know, until they hear I was with the Brandt kids, that is. Then they'll be overjoyed."

        "Why's that?" Fiona asked, although she already had an idea of what the answer would be.

        "You're like the poster children for good behavior," Ricky said seriously. To Fiona's surprise, his tone was almost fond, no sarcasm or distaste as she'd expected.

        "Not everything is as it seems," she replied, although she knew the simple definition of herself to be entirely true. She was quiet and polite and got good grades, never bothered anybody, never drew attention to herself. If she wanted to, though, she could be a lot more daring. Dye her hair bright blue and start listening to German underground industrial music, maybe. 

        "Not everything," Ricky agreed, speaking through a high-pitched yawn before shifting positions again and settling in with his back facing Todd and Fiona, his sweatshirt bunched up under his head like a pillow. "Night, Fiona. But... don't fall asleep."