Nowhere In Particular // H.S.

Nine: "What are we doing?"

"Harry, what are we doing?"

"Well personally, I've been trying to sleep," he huffs out, tilting his head to the side while his neck rests on an extremely uncomfortable wooden bench. "Not working out so well with you sighing out every couple of seconds."

"Sorry."

"It's okay," he opens his eyes to look at me, scooting closer to where I'm sitting and putting his hand on my shoulder. "If you want we can find somewhere to stay... I just thought since it's early in the morning we'd rest up here and catch the next bus."

"No, that's not what I mean."

We've been going most the night. In an attempt to make some progress from the lack of real movement yesterday, we got on a bus that traveled through the majority of the night. I'm surprised by just how many busses actually offer this because what an awful job that would be, but I'm grateful for it.

We finally made it out of California, now somewhere in Nevada. It doesn't feel any different though, it's the same old bus station in some small washed up town where the vending machine are nearly identical to the last five.

"What do you mean then?"

"This," I motion between the two of us. "What are we doing?"

"Greta," he scrunches his eyebrows, confused. "You're going to have to give me a little more details than that. I don't know what that's supposed to mean?"

I blink my eyes quickly as I watch him. By his face I can tell he's clearly lost on what I'm trying to say, which I don't exactly blame him. The way he looks back at me though, the way his eyes seem to almost talk and tell me that everything is okay, makes my heart swell up and I almost forget about all of the questions in my head. It answers everything and confuses me even more all at the same time.

What I mean is, what are we doing traveling across the country on a series of busses with each other when we're practically strangers? What are we doing trusting each other so much when the world is filled with horrible people and one of us could easily be one of them?

What am I doing with this overwhelming feeling of wanting to kiss you almost every five minutes?

I don't understand it because I've never felt this much of an attraction to someone so quickly. I'm sure it helps that he's exceptionally good looking but I can also tell it's more than that. He's been nothing but kind to me since we've met and I have this strange feeling of being more complete around him, as cheesy as it is.

It might have something to do with the long roads, stuffy busses and my desperateness of wanting someone to talk to who might have a clue what's happening, but I can't deny this feeling that occupies every part of my brain when I'm around him.

Plus, I feel like I need this reassurance that I'm not totally messing up my life. I'm technically speaking an adult and from the way the world works at this point in time, this is not how "adults" behave. I need some confirmation that what we're doing isn't completely idiotic.

"I mean... I don't know," I struggle to find the words to express how I'm feeling. "Like is this is a good idea at all? Us... doing this, together."

"Are you saying you're already sick of me?" he smirks, a playful humor behind his eyes.

"No," I'm quick to respond, probably a little too quick. "That's not it at all."

I am in no way sick of you. In fact, I'd say it's the complete opposite.

"Phew," he sighs out dramatically, a smile still on his face. "I was a bit worried there."

"I guess I'm just doubting that I'm making the right decision here," I say quietly, trying my best to explain how I'm feeling and not keeping it inside my head. "I mean it can't possibly be a good idea to run away, befriend a boy on a bus, a really cute boy at that-," I suddenly stop, realizing that I might have let a little too much out of my head.