“Girl after my own heart,” she said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from a hidden overhead compartment. When she offered me one, I heard my mom’s voice floating through my head, telling me about the importance of accepting hospitality.

I took the cigarette but refused the lighter, saying that I wanted to save it for later. Jackie nodded like I was wise beyond my years. We crossed the line out of town, and automatic locks inside of me clicked open.

I knew all the rules about not trusting people, and not getting murdered, and I rode with Jackie anyway. Every time I tried to talk, she shook her head, like I was breaking a pact. We traveled a pattern of midwestern squares as the sky choked on gray clouds. The only things along the side of the roads were gas stations and the low bodies of gray box stores and mountains made of people’s trash. We made it to Indiana before Mom called and I picked up and told her the truth.

It didn’t even occur to me to lie.

“What were you thinking?” Mom screamed through tears.

I didn’t have an answer, not yet. That’s what I’d been looking for, and I hadn’t even gotten close.

Jackie dropped me off at the next gas station. It had a little fake restaurant inside, a cluster of dark tables and a smell stuck halfway between cleaning products and lunch meat. “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t think I can handle being yelled at by someone else’s parents.”

I had to wait for three hours, sending Mom a picture of myself in the gas station every five minutes.

I’m here.

I’m alive.

Dad called and asked what I’d been thinking, a harsh echo of Mom. He said I’d stuck one foot in my own grave. But even after Mom picked me up and I apologized a thousand times, I kept thinking about that woman’s car, how sour it smelled, and how if we drove long enough, her tires would drink up all the black pavement in the world, and I would unfold myself from the passenger seat and end up somewhere else. The air would be breathable, and the faint scent of oranges would stick to me everywhere I went.

Danny: Now

The next day, the Grays, minus Rush, all have third lunch, and Rush is willing to skip class. Imogen has first lunch, they assure me.