thirty-six hours with you | georgenotfound x reader

7. trust me

. hour ten .

"You can just say we're lost," George says, "It's fine."

"We're not lost." I lean closer to the steering wheel as if it'll help me see better in the lost. "It's just a backroad."

"We lost service thirty minutes ago," George points out, "We can't even see the maps."

"We just keep going straight," I insist, "We're not lost."

George looks out his window, squinting dramatically. "I see no signs for food or hotels or anything."

"We're not lost," I say it through gritted teeth now.

"I'm hungry y/n," George complains, "and I haven't slept."

"Me neither." I lean my back into the seat again. "We'll get to eat soon."

He crosses his arms. "We need to stock up on snacks tomorrow."

I let out a long sigh, tired of arguing with George. "We only have two more hours till the hotel.

"So you think." George points a finger at me. "We can't even see how much longer or where we're going."

"George." I want to tell him to stop, to just leave me alone. My eyes are fighting to stay open, and the darkness outside isn't helping.

"And then we have twenty-six hours after that," he continues.

My blood boils and irritation seeps in my bones. My hands the steering wheel with the thread of patience I have left..

"That's a lot." George stops to look at my expression now. "Wait, what's wrong with you?"

I let out a frustrated huff, not being able to take it anymore. "You are so annoying, you know that right?"

His jaw clamps shut at the tone of my words. He's partially turned in his seat to face me.

"Do you think that I want to be in this car with you right now?" My hands are strained from holding on so tight. "Do you think this dark road is exactly what I had in mind for this trip?"

"No, of course not." He tries to wave it off. "I just think maybe your GPS is wrong."

"Yeah, exactly." I'm not even hiding my anger anymore. "My GPS, not me, so please stop–"

I stop talking at the sight of my phone lighting up with a notification.

"What are you looking at?" George ask, "Why did you just stop talking?"

"Look." I tilt my head towards the phone, watching the road again. "A notification only means one thing."

"Oh my god." George picks up my phone like it's a sacred item. "Service."

I roll my eyes at how dramatic he's being. "How much longer till we're at the hotel?"

"Hour and a half." He grimaces. "Could we stop for food though? I'm starving."

"Fine." I don't even think about it too much. After how close I was to completely losing it, I think a little food is what we all need. "But I get to pick the place."

O O O

So much for me getting to pick the place. There was only one place to eat on the road to our hotel, so we stopped for late-night, cheap burgers.

After ordering, I watch George type a decimal number into his notes app. "What are you doing?"

"I'm calculating how much I will spend on this trip," he explains, "Dream's paying for every cent."