Page 17 of The Road to Finding Us

I smile after reading her text. I can’t help but read it in her ever-present dry tone. The girl has mastered the uninterested sarcastic tone.

Lily: You should be! We haven’t been in the car more than an hour and I already want to punch him.

Veronica: Do it. Maybe it’ll help ease the sexual tension!

A loud gasp escapes my throat.

The sound causes Aspen to slam on the brakes. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing,” I respond. “Just reacting to a text from V.” I look at him, giving him a shrug.

“Are you kidding me? I thought I hit a squirrel or something. You can’t gasp that loud over a flipping text.”

“You aren’t the boss of me,” I remind him, pointing to the road so he stops glaring at me before he really does hit a squirrel.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, his eyes thankfully on the road.

Lily: NEVER use the words sexual tension again when it comes to Aspen. OUR FRIENDSHIP DEPENDS ON IT!

“What are the two of you talking about, anyway?” Aspen asks, leaning across the center console to try to peek at my phone.

“Aspen, eyes on the road!” I shout.

He shakes his head at me, and I’m pretty confident that his eyes roll behind the aviator sunglasses he’s wearing. “My eyes are on the road.”

I can feel my phone vibrate in my lap, but I don’t look at it, afraid Aspen will put our lives in harm’s way by being nosy again. “Weird how you say your eyes were on the road when they were most definitely trying to look at my text messages.”

His head is still facing the direction of the road, but he does take the time to take one of his hands off the wheel and flip me off.

“Just admit you were being nosy, Aspen,” I say, turning my body so it faces away from him. The door digs into my back a little, but a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do to avoid prying eyes.

Veronica: Sorry, I meant maybe instead of punching him, the two of you should bang to ease the sexual tension.

Lily: I’m ignoring you. Bye.

Veronica: You love me!

I wish she was here right now so I could wipe the pretty smile I know she’s wearing off her face. I scroll through all my social media apps for an extended amount of time before I start to feel nauseous. With a long sigh, I shove my phone into the crevice between my thighs and look out the passenger window.

Cars race by on either side of us on the highway. The sun has fully risen, its rays attempting to blind me from my position in the seat.

When Aspen directs the car into the exit lane, I look out the window in confusion, my gaze snapping to his dashboard to see if we’re running out of gas. We aren’t—if the meter on his dash is correct. “Why are we exiting here? We need I-20.”

“No, we don’t,” Aspen says, not bothering to explain.

“Uh, yes we do.” I reach between my legs to find my phone, getting ready to prove to him that I-20 is how we’ll reach South Carolina the fastest.

He reaches out and covers my phone with the palm of his hand. “We’re taking a small detour.”

“A detour?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yeah, kind of,” he says, so sure of himself. “Think of this trip as…the scenic route.” His lips pull up in a teasing smile as we cross from one highway to another.

“I didn’t sign up for the scenic route! I signed up for two—maybe three—days of being stuck in the car with you. Nothing more than that.” I search the signs around us to try to determine what exactly he means by scenic route, but there aren’t any clues to be found.

“We have a little over a week before the grand opening. Let’s have some fun,” he offers.

“My definition of fun will never involve you,” I bite back, my fingers finding my temples as I try to think my way out of this. “You’re essentially kidnapping me,” I continue, rubbing the sides of my head lightly.

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