The Run

173

San Antonio, Texas

"Can we just stop?"

The words come out of her mouth and make him jump with surprise. His hands grip the wheel a little tighter as he tries to come to terms with her presence again, as if she had disappeared for a while and was now back from the dead to haunt him. He doesn't respond, keeping his eyes on the road as a fresh breeze blows through the opened window. Maybe if he doesn't say anything, she'll go back to where she came from.

"Joshua? Hello?"

He doesn't look, but he feels her lean forward, waving her hands to catch his attention, in vain. He's in one of his moods where he doesn't feel like acknowledging his surroundings at all, let alone talk to someone. Maybe he's still shaken from the thrift store incident, as he likes to call it now. Seeing that drumkit triggered memories he had desperately tried to forget for the past six months, and there's still a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of everything that happened since then.

"Josh, please," she sighs, running her hands through her hair, wiping the thin film of sweat that has started to form on her forehead. "We've been driving for hours without any stops. We haven't said a word for the past, three hours at least. I'm losing my fucking mind here!"

Now is his time to sigh. It's still warm outside, but the sun is getting lower right in front of his eyes, and he's almost being blinded by the light. Blinking quickly, he remembers the sunglasses she's bought in the thrift shop. He knows they're lying somewhere on the backseat and he sure can't reach them while driving. And since he knows fair well that she doesn't deserve this silent treatment anyway, he cracks a smile. "Hey, can you pass me those sunglasses?"

She opens her mouth slightly and stares at him for a moment, annoyed, before reaching behind her for the shades. "I don't know what stops me from throwing these at your face," she mumbles as she hands them to him forcefully.

"Much better," he says with the hint of a smile after putting them on, and it takes a lot for her not to scream at his face.

"What, that's it?"

He says nothing. Just raises an eyebrow confidently and shrugs.

"You're just gonna keep driving in silence? Joshua, I swear to God if we don't stop soon, I'll either pee in your car or jump out. Or maybe both. Maybe I'll pee in your car and then-"

"We'll stop at the next exit."

"Great. Now please, entertain me in the meantime."

Another silence. He doesn't even flinch.

"For fuck's sake, Joshua! Are you doing this on purpose?"

"Doing what?"

"Driving me nuts."

He shrugs. She sighs.

"Why can't we at least turn the radio on?"

There's a short silence during which his foot seems to step off the accelerator, as if he's thinking of something very important he might have forgotten, and his whole body seems to tense, but then he relaxes. "You know what? I'll take this as your question for the day, and I'll answ-"

"But it's n-"

"I'll answer it," he repeats, raising is hand to cut her off, "with sincerity. No lies."

"It's not fair! That's not the rules of the game!"

"Well, it's a new game and we're making the rules up as we go, honey. So here's my answer: I don't want to turn the radio on because I'm scared I'll hear one of our songs. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn, and we don't want me to have yet another panic attack behind the wheel, do we?"

This time, the girl doesn't say anything. She doesn't flinch, doesn't shrug, doesn't so much as gasp at the honesty of his answer or the fact that he called her "honey" and said "we" instead of "I". She just stares at his profile long enough that when she finally blinks, the imprint of his face stays on the back of her eyelids. In that moment, more than any other time before, she wishes she knew what he has gone through, and why the simple thought of hearing his own music is so scary to him.

She had known his band, of course. No one could have stayed away from their music just a year ago. Their songs were constantly being played on most radio stations, and people just knew them. They hated them, or they loved them, but they all knew them. There was no getting around it. The girl herself had listened to their work. She'd even seen them once at a festival when they weren't that famous yet, and she vividly remembers that feeling of being alive when she danced through their set. Why did a band that made so many people happy turned one of its members into the saddest person she's ever known?

She doesn't have time to ponder this, because the man at her sides, the saddest man in the world, speaks again. "There's our exit. Wanna sleep in San Antonio tonight?"

"Okay."

The man drives in silence for a little more until she sees a motel that doesn't seem too bad (and visibly has a pool!) and they agree to stay there for the night. When he parks and turns the ignition off, she's more than ready to get out, but he stops her.

"Wait... Question time."

She rolls her eyes. "Really? Now?" She thinks but doesn't say it out loud. She's still dumbfounded by his latest answer to question his decisions.

"Why are you still here?"

"What do you-, with you, you mean?"

He nods.

"Well..." she thinks for a second, her mind heading for a snarky comment while her heart whispers more softness. She hesitates, then goes for the latter, thinking he deserves it. "I'm still here with you because I can't help but wonder why you're so broken."

He looks away, staring at the hands on his lap, hands that don't feel like his. Nothing feels like him. "Why do you care?"

"We said one question."

"Yeah," he puffs, looking up at the scenery before him, the sun almost gone now.

The girl watches him for a moment, ready to get out of the car, but he's never looked so miserable. He's looked sad, and angry, and broken in a way... but not to this extent. So she leans back against her seat. "D'you really expect me to go now, in the middle of... whatever this is? It would be like starting an episode of Grey's Anatomy and turning it off before knowing if they've managed to save the guy with a tree branch as big as my thigh through his chest. I'm not that kind of person. I want to know the ending. And trust me, I'm not turning this off until I know you're safe. Now, come on. I really need to pee."

She was gone in the blink of an eye. He took his time, trying not to think of what she'd just said, but unable to stop his mind from wandering. She seemed to forget that other choice, because there's always a second choice, a second option, a second ending, right? She wouldn't turn this off until she knew he was safe... or dead.

|-/ 

Well, look who's back! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, I can only hope someone is still reading this. I've been going through a rough patch lately, but I'm hanging on, learning to let go, love what I write and write what I love. If you're still here, thank you!