A Car's Tires on a Road

I'll do what I can to make you see that

It was a new day with all the possibilities in the world ahead of us. I'd had about as good as a night as they come for me, even with the picture of a faceless girl haunting me, Sam snoring and groaning on the floor all night, because he'd insisted Carly slept in his bed, and Cas run off to god knows where. I could be annoyed by Sam embarrassing himself while trying to charm a girl, or I could be worried about Cas, but beautiful weather and the sun making a thick layer of snow glitter everywhere lifted my spirits. Christmas was in the air and I'd hoped I could stay in the mood long enough to appreciate it. I just hadn't expected the day to start with yet another crime scene.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly from where he was piled into the passenger's seat. "So, uh, Car," he began. "I never asked. Where are you from?"

And there I'd thought those two had spent enough time together by now to have gotten through the phase of small talk.

"Russia"

"Really?" Sam turned in his seat. I could feel his interest antennas gear up like she'd just thrown him a bone.

"No"

"Oh," Sam made, then chuckled nervously.

A long stiff silence followed in which I honestly suffered the most of everyone. Sam kept fidgeting in his seat, a nervous gesture he always had whenever he desperately wanted to ask questions but didn't feel like it was the right moment. I rolled my eyes and looked in the rearview mirror, finding Carly smile out of the window. It wasn't a long drive to the outskirts of town, past fields covered in shiny snow and the occasional barn decorated with colorful lights. But those two sure made it feel long.

"Your last name, Sorokin, sounds kinda Russian, though," Sam finally said.

"Because it is," she answered, clearly not up to elaborate.

"So, are your parents from Russia?"

"No"

"Grandparents?"

I groaned. I hadn't meant to, but I couldn't help it. Carly chuckled, Sam shot me that look made of pure hatred that I totally deserved. It was clear she didn't want to talk, but Sam didn't seem to get the message. I missed the old Sam a little, the one who was too scared to get another girlfriend killed to even look at a woman. It'd been sad to watch, but also less embarrassing. I must have been stuck in my own head for too long during the past couple of months, or even years, because I appeared to have missed the part where he'd changed from lonely and sad to desperate and pining. I wondered how that'd happened.

"What d'you boys think waits for us there?" Carly asked at some point. "It sure sounded mysterious"

"Hopefully something that helps us solve this freaking case," I grumbled.

"You really don't wanna be here, do you?" she stated more than asked. As if I'd talk about what I wanted to some stranger who was about as open about herself as a high security prison cell. She touched my shoulder then and smiled at me when I turned to her for a second too long.

"Watch the road, would you," Sam snapped at me.

Her hand slipped off me and I, for once, did as Sam asked and watched the road, which didn't seem to end any time soon. Every now and then, I looked in the rearview again. The blond of her hair reflected the sunlight coming in through the window and the tip of her long elegant nose was reddened from the cold. She wore a big black-and-white patterned scarf today. It was the first time I saw her dressed in anything fitting the weather. She also wore browline glasses today and I only just now noticed the tattoo behind her right ear. I could see what Sam saw in her. If a little weird and socially uptight, she seemed cool. There was something calming about her.