Lost at the Start

10.

I jumped a little to find myself in not-Jackson's room.

Okay, understatement. I was so surprised my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and my head bumped the roof of the—

CAR??

—I was now sitting in.

Beginning to panic and overwhelmingly disoriented, I jerked myself around over and over again to get my bearings about me.

Sure enough, there was no doubt I was in a car. And a moving one, at that.

I couldn't decide how to feel about the fact that Jackson—surprise, surprise—was in the driver's seat on my left, brown eyes calmly focused on the road and none the wiser to my presence.

I'd never driven an actual car a day in my life, so it wasn't my problem that someone else was driving. It wasn't even my problem Jackson was the one behind the wheel—if anything, that was a bit of a comfort, especially since he obviously knew what he was doing and I'd ridden with my dad all the time, and he didn't exactly have sparkling driving habits—but rather that it was the two of us, alone in the car.

Why exactly that made me so uneasy, even I wasn't completely sure. It just did, about the same way being alone behind a closed door would start pecking at me if I was given a chance to notice and/or think about it.

For a minute, resisting the urge to immediately reach up and click my seat belt into place, I just sat and watched him watch the road.

I recovered from my shock enough to check my watch not long after.

How was it already 6:11?

Despite my reminders to keep an eye on the time to make sure no more of it went missing, some still had. How?

Had my internal clock been messed up that badly, or did being dead skew with my overall concept and perception of time?

I shook my head and tried to put those questions—again with the questions!—in the back of my mind.

At least that somewhat aquated for why exactly I'd willed myself to Jackson only to land in a car. He was probably on his way to pick up something to eat. It was about the time his family ate dinner.

Although I had to fight myself to keep from wondering why he was in the car alone, except for me, whom he was unaware of.

My common sense told me—shouted, really—that it was a horrible idea to make myself known while he was on the road, because I'd probably scare him half to death and potentially cause a wreck, and therefore endanger him. So I tried to put a cap on the rising inquires bubbling up inside me threatening to spill out and encourage me to make myself known.

Once I started looking out the window on my right and actually trying to pay attention to what went past us, my thoughts slowly relaxed themselves, and I became genuinely comfortable with the whole experience.

In fact, if I hadn't known I'd probably phase right through him and then be in one of the single most awkward positions I'd ever been in, I would've leaned over and against his shoulder. Enough to be comfortable, but not enough to inhibit his driving.

I was dead and in love, not stupid.

Though I can't really argue that that certain four-letter word can lead to some pretty stupid-sounding and looking actions...

I couldn't help but notice that there wasn't any music or a radio station playing, though. Jackson just always seemed like the type that would have something going while he drove, at least to me.