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When we drove into town everything was closed besides the hotel, a gas station, and a questionable looking bar with a dozen motorcycles parked in the front.

“I have a bad feeling we’re not going to get dinner,” Jenny said.

As it turned out, she was right. Fortunately the hotel had a selection of foods in the lobby. It wasn’t the best, but it was food. While we waited for the clerk to check in the people ahead of us, we picked up a couple of burritos, a bag of salt and vinegar chips for Jenny, Cool Ranch Doritos for me, and a ‘share size’ package of Oreos. Then Jenny noticed the beer in the cooler.

“I’m going to grab a beer, do you want one?”

“I’ve never had beer.”

She shook her head. “No time like the present.”

“I’ll get some water too,” I said, grabbing two large bottles. At the last hotel the sink water had been questionable, coming out rust colored. I’d already been sick once this trip, I wasn’t taking any chances.

“We’d like two rooms please,” Jenny said, dumping our selection of food and drinks onto the desk.

“Sorry hon, we only have one room.”

Jenny froze. We’d both seen this exact scenario in romcoms and knew how it always played out.

“Does it have two beds at least?” I asked.

“Sure does.”

We both relaxed. “Okay good, we’ll take it.”

The room was small and had clearly seen better days. There was a questionable dark spot on the carpet near the window and the bathroom sink dripped, leaving a brown stain around the drain, but it was mostly clean, which was all I could ask.

“How do we cook these burritos?” I asked, studying the frozen packages.

“The microwave. Here, let me show you.”

Correctly assuming that I had no idea how to operate the microwave, Jenny showed me how to put the burrito in the center and follow the package directions.

“You have to be careful,” she explained. “Every microwave seems to have its own temperature, so you never know if something is going to come out too hot or too cold. Also it cooks from the inside so sometimes you think it’s fine, but the middle is hotter than the gates of hell.”

I cooked our burritos without incident, surprised by how easy it was. There was no seating in the room, so we sat across from each other in our respective beds eating our makeshift dinners. The burrito wasn’t the best thing I’d ever eaten, but it wasn’t terrible either.

Jenny popped the lid off two bottles of beer, setting one in front of me and waiting for me to take a sip. When I winced she laughed.

“I didn’t expect it to be so bitter.”

“It’s an acquired taste.”

I took another sip. “I don’t hate this.”

She seemed surprised.

I held up my bottle to clink with hers. “To road trips and new friends.”

“Road trips and new friends,” she echoed.

“I’d like to be friends you know,” I told her. “We have a lot in common, and I think we’re having fun together.”

I’d like to have more intimate fun, I added silently. I had the strangest idea that Jenny read my mind.

“We are,” she confirmed. “But I don’t want to do anything that would jeopardize my job. If I were to get fired my Pops would want to quit out of solidarity, so it doesn’t only impact me, it impacts both of us.”

“I understand.”