Odd.

2.3 Road Trip

Her Jeep was small and cute with no windows and a yellow lea hanging from the rearview mirror. She had a furry yellow steering wheel cover and cracked leather seats, a half-empty bottle of water resting in the cup holder. The engine hummed as an acoustic song played softly through the speakers.

"Seriously, Minx. Where are you taking me?" he asked as they pulled onto the main road and headed north.

She only shook her head as she flicked on her blinker and made a right onto Cherry Street. After a moment she passed Sweet Haven and his family's restaurant and just kept going until she made a left onto the freeway.

He was a little concerned as to where she was taking him, but he managed to lean back in his seat and relax, letting the acoustic music fill in the silence.

It was nice, feeling the wind hit his face as they cruised among the cars and left the town behind. It was like he was leaving all of his worries back there, completely detaching himself from that world and throwing himself into a new one.

"Do you own a record player?" she asked, her strange and sudden question making his eyebrow raise.

"Huh?"

"Do you own a record player?"

"No, why?"

"Have you ever used a gun?"

"No."

"Have you ever stolen a street sign?"

"No," he said, while shaking his head. "Why do you keep asking me all of these weird questions?"

She shrugged. "Why not?"

For a moment she stared him in the eyes, her own eyebrow raised in a challenge before he finally flicked his gaze away and let her return hers to the road.

"Do you prefer Legos or Lincoln logs?"

"Legos," he said.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "You can build cooler things with Legos than Lincoln logs."

"Huh," she said before launching into her next round of questions.

That's how it went for the next half hour. She asked him random questions and he answered, her never giving him time to ask his own. If she was trying to distract him, it was working, but he didn't understand why they had to drive way out of town for her to do so.

Just when he thought she was officially kidnapping him, she flicked on her blinker and glided off the highway. They went through a town even smaller than their own with only one streetlight that blinked softly every few moments.

She drove him past the streetlight and set of railroad tracks before pulling into a small, rundown gas station. It had a slow spinning sign that said Pump-n-Munch and flickering lights above the gas pumps. An old woman in her late fifties stood at one of the pumps, filling her rusted red pickup with fuel. A German Sheppard poked it's head out the window, breathing heavily with its tongue lolling out of its mouth.

She pulled up beside one of the empty pumps and killed the engine. After grabbing her purse she hopped out of the Jeep and made her way toward the small convenience store of Pump-n-Munch. When she noticed that he was still in the Jeep, she turned and tilted her head at him.

"You coming?" she asked as her keys dangled from her fingers and her sunglasses rested on her head.

Without a word, he pushed open his door and hopped out of the Jeep because, for some reason he still wasn't quite sure of, he trusted her.

She waited until he was by her side before leading the way into the small building.