Me, Myself, and I

highway to scary places

He showed up in a vehicle I didn't recognize. Thing looked well-taken care of. It was in no shape for country roads. Still, we called road-side services and I let myself into his passenger seat.

Ben turned the key to his car. "Where are we going?"

"Turn around," I said, pointing to my desolate car. "This was a terrible idea."

"Where were we going?"

"Idaho."

"We're going to Idaho?"

I rubbed my eyes. "I was going to Idaho. I would've hitchhiked if it took it a few minutes ago. But it seems like everything is pointing me the opposite way. So let's just go home, please."

"You're gonna leave your car here?"

I shrugged. "I'll leave a number. I just wanna go home."

Ben tapped his wheel, watching the car headlights whiz past us.

"So," he said. "Why were you going to Idaho?"

I'd lied to him so many times before. Now I felt like I owed him any explanation I could give. Instead I leaned against the car window. It was warm. "You know why." Did he? I cleared me throat and let myself look at him. He seemed well-rested. Must be nice. "You said it yourself. My mom's there." I paused. He had the car's GPS set to the rehabilitation facility we had tracked down. "You knew I was gonna call you?"

"I hoped you would, I guess."

"Why?"

He smiled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hair had grown in now, back to the small tight curls that brushed his forehead.

"Well, thank you," I said. "But, like I said. You can turn around. Or, I guess, leave me here with her." I pointed to the dead car. "I'm not going to Idaho." He frowned. He didn't believe me. "Won't your parents be worried?"

"I told them I am visiting Austin at school."

"They bought that?"

He bit his lip. "I left them a note." He rested his hands on the wheel once more. "What do you want to do?"

What I wanted. Not what is best for Dad. Alex. Brooke. Val. Not don't you realize how stupid you are being? You'd be happier if you could just let things go and focus on yourself. You'd be better if you just tried. What do you want? That's all that matters. All that every did matter was what you wanted.

"What are you staring at?" Ben asked.

I blushed, throwing my head back to stare at the car ceiling. Other than a couple of stains, above the passenger seat, the thing was in great shape.

"Nothing," I said. "I'm just...thank you. That's all. I want...I need to go to Idaho. But I can't—"

He put the car in drive and merged back onto the highway. My poor little baby grew smaller at a fast pace until it was a dot in my head. As unreal as a letter and quiet as a recipe book.

I don't know how much silent time passed in that car before the absurdity of my situation hit me. When the light hit one of the highway exit signs, and Ben merged onto the exit. We parked at a gas station in the middle of nowhere and he slipped out to fill the car.

He tapped on my window. "I'm going to go get some water." He walked towards the door. I heard myself laugh. "What is it?"

The roadsigns teased me now, like a code I couldn't unlock. The logos and state shapes seemed familiar. "Where are we?"

He checked his cellphone. "Ohio."

"You've been driving for eight hours!?"

"Yeah."