So was it just the food that made him feel better? That made sense, I guess.
Slipping my legs over the side of the bottom bunk bed, I arched my back and heard half my bones crack. It was so hard to get up, and I found myself out of breath just sitting there.
I had to keep it together. I’d been doing a decent job at trying to hide just how awful I felt. How I was pretty sure my fever was back, and my headache was better but not by a lot.
I’d been sucking shit up my whole life, and now wasn’t any different.
It would be nice to stay another day or two, but I already knew we couldn’t. “We can stay if you want, but we ate all their food, except for maybe a pancake or two worth of mix, and I think we should find a phone.” To call who, I had no clue, but there had to be someone who could help us.
Then I thought about his sparkling personality.
Or not.
He’d either come to the same conclusion already or going another day without food was too much because he pushed himself up almost instantly. “I’m ready when you are.”
All right then.
* * *
I tried my best to clean up around the house and make sure things were as close to how they had been before we got there. I triple bagged the trash and wiped the counters down. I promised myself that I would send the owners some money to pay them back for their unwilling help. I didn’t want to be a total freeloader, and I’d found a couple of bills in a drawer with an address in Nevada—there was no way we were there—and I memorized the names so I could look them up later.
Alex wedged a rock behind the door to keep it closed; then I climbed up on that broad back, and we made our way… somewhere.
Again.
I did the sign of the cross in gratitude.
“Any idea where to go?” I whispered a few minutes later.
“North. There are a few communities we should be able to reach today.”
Oh, please, please, please, let us be able to make it somewhere today.
Luckily, for the first time in a while, something actually managed to work out, because not too long after, we made it to a real road—not the pothole landmine mess that we’d come across at the other house—and he purposely turned onto it.
Like he knew exactly where we were going, I noticed.
Soon after that, I started spotting houses in the distance spread out among trees that might have been different kinds of pines. Most of the driveways were empty and overgrown with long-dead weeds. I’d bet that these houses were vacation or rental properties, maybe.
Alexander led us down a rutted dirt road that wasn’t as nice as the one we’d been on a minute ago. His muscles bunched, and his breathing was nice and even as he turned down another deserted, muddy path.
“You know where we are?” I asked him.
“Yes.”
I waited for him to tell me something else, but he didn’t say shit.
We were back to that, I guess.
I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t like it mattered. He hadn’t left me behind, and he could’ve been leading us straight into hell, and I would have gone just so that I wouldn’t have to walk on my own. That was the important part. He didn’t need to be my best friend or anything. Being regular friends was good enough, even though we were more like “friends.”
It was still more than I’d had before he’d come into my life.
Tipping my head back, I soaked up the bright sun hitting the road and sighed. I really was glad to be alive. Like I’d told him, regardless of whatever else happened, at least we’d made it out.
At least, I’d finally had a choice, which was all I’d ever wanted in the first place. Then I’d gone and bitten off all this shit. Taking care of one of the most famous people on the planet, getting kidnapped, waterboarded, getting sick, and now extreme camping with no money or IDs or friends to call for help.
Oh boy, if I could have snorted without it feeling like an icepick to my brain, I would have.
