Six Things Before Breakfast

22

It's just past noon, the sun is blinding through the windshield, and with the window rolled down, the clean air feels nice against his face, and Sanders looks at the ETA from the screen on his phone propped up near the AC, and there's about an hour left before they reach Mako. He doesn't want to think about anything else rather than being able to flee the city for a couple of days, relax his bones, drink wine in a hot tub.

But day one and he's ready to throw open the van door and jump—doesn't matter if his guts spill all over the road. Rosen, Suho, Siam, and Maxon have been arguing for the past two hours ("Among all of us here, who's most likely to be president?" "Not Becks, because she'll kill every white person." "...true."), singing their lungs out (to Mamma Mia. Now, Sanders has nothing against the damn musical, but if he hears one more Waterloo, I was defended you won the war...he is going to lose. It.), and asking for pee breaks every fucking ten minutes ("I need to pee." "Jesus—again?").

His breaking point is his little brother asking, "Are we near?" for the ninth time. (Yes. Nine. Sanders counted.)

Sanders closes his eyes for a brief second, tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and clenches his jaw.

When they get to Mako, he's not allowed to have stress levels this high.

But for now, he sighs, tries to calm down and be patient, like the loving big brother he is, and opens his mouth—

But Becks beats him to it. In the passenger seat, she turns around to face Siam and answers, "One hour left, buddy. You should get some rest before we get to the beach. We left pretty early."

Sanders glances at her. She looks back at him and winks.

Suho pipes up, "Is it really this far?"

Sanders grits his teeth. "If you guys didn't ask for fucking potty breaks every ten minutes, then maybe—"

Sanders shuts his mouth. His breath gets caught in his throat.

"Not really. Suho, bud, get some rest, too," Becks says, grinning. She still has her torso faced towards the backseat (where the devils are).

It's not what made Sanders freeze. It's the hand covering his on the gear stick, firmly gripping his fingers.

He keeps his eyes on the road, but he's malfunctioning. He tries to remember he's driving six people, and it's six lives he's responsible for if he loses focus on the road.

So. Becks. Should, um, take her hand away. Before he bursts.

She looks at him and says, "I told you we should switch."

"I'm fine," he says tightly. Her hand is still on his.

"You've been on edge since this morning, even after you've had your coffee."

"This morning, we almost left Suho behind because we forgot about him. We made a U-turn back to Adan's apartment because she brought the wrong charger. And the line for breakfast was long, and my moms kept kissing me and it's embarrassing."

Becks laughs once. "I think it's cute."

"You would. Can I have a gummy bear?"

Finally, finally, Becks takes her hand away. She opens the pack of candies and leans over. Sanders opens his mouth, and she drops two gummy bears in there.

She doesn't hold his hand again for the rest of the ride, but she gets ahold of the AUX cord and plays Sanders's playlist from his Spotify account through her phone. She rests her head against the window and closes her eyes. "Wake me up if you want to switch."