It Started With A Book

Chapter 14

It's just not in the cards for me.

Maybe you need to reshuffle the deck and find the Queen of Hearts.
___

Eleven.

That was the number of Burger King's Brin counted jutting from the outskirts of the newly paved interstate. Orange construction signs with dates recently gone stood off to the side.

Arms pressed against her stomach she grimaced, the rumbling of hunger filling her ears.

Elliott drummed a rhythmic beat consisting of his hands and jeans he'd bought (after stumbling from his Brin-induced haze), blissfully unaware his passenger was starving.

"You know we could pull over and grab a quick bite, right?" Brin tapped his shoulder, snatching his attention.

"We're almost there."

"Almost where?"

If Brin hadn't become so familiar with Elliott, her mind would have been racing with worst case scenarios. Bursts of frightening images rotating, spilling out like worn film from an old time movie projector. But he was Elliott, not a hitchhiker on the side of an old dirt road.

"Almost there," he repeated.

A groan flowed from her lips but stopped suddenly when her hand was met with something weighing it down.

She stayed motionless choosing instead to play I spy something red, other than her face.

Elliott's grip sprung back finding its home back at ten and two. "You'll be fine."

"I'm getting tired of these responses. Just tell me."

"No."

"Fine," Brin whipped out her phone tapping the orange app, with the speed of a 1970's news reporter with a scoop hot off the press.

Every so often, Elliott would peek, chuckling to himself whenever Brin's tongue would stick out. He observed quickly that it only occurred if she was deep in thought.

With a snap, she'd feverishly burrow into her device again, back pressed against the window.

There were also times when the two would capture the other's gaze, avert their view then circle round again. It was a game of cat and mouse with each playing their parts respectively and simultaneously.

"What's got your attention so occupied?" Elliott leaned over, sneaking a glimpse.

"None of your business."

He saw the words handsome rapidly appear seconds before Brin covered her phone screen.

"Should I be jealous or delighted? Wait...was that about me?"

"It's not about you."

"Don't believe you," Elliott shrugged, leaning his head against the seat.

"You don't have to. I'm telling you what's fact you're spouting fiction."

"Then that makes two of us."

Elliott waited for the jab, the pummeling punch that would introduce his arm to a world of pain. He blinked, giving Brin (who didn't move) a once over.

The air frothed with sticky tension neither person interested in their previous hobbies. It particularly didn't help that Brin's mind clouded the moment Elliott's shirt rose slightly displaying his torso.

So," Brin's voice floated above the speechless din.

"So."

"You know I actually don't know anything about you Elliott," Brin stated. Her mind flashed back to the conversation with Betty. "For all I know you could be an axe murderer."