Alex

I pulled out my phone, prompting her to do the same.

I punched my number into her phone and called myself.

I immediately sent a text that said, text me when you get home, just so I know.

I walked away and almost left until I realized I had to pump my gas still.

Plain Jane was gone pretty quickly, just as before.

When I got into my car, my phone dinged with a new text message.

Not to my surprise.

How hot the drive getting to you, Erica?

I don't know who else is Jane, but I hope you get there safe.

I sat for about 10 minutes waiting for either of the other two to respond.

No typing bubbles, no message dings, nothing.

I sent another message.

Explain how there are now four numbers in this text group.

Then I waited for what seemed like forever nothing.

I did not return to my podcast for the next stretch of the drive.

I had reasoned with myself that perhaps the whole podcast I was listening to for almost eight hours was getting to me, and that I had somehow over-exaggerated the extent of the interactions.

I had, yes, it was improbable that this was all an organic course of events for the day, but not impossible.

I forced myself to listen to the soothing lo-fi music as I drove.

I kept

myself hydrated I practiced deep breathing techniques I needed to let it go I only needed to get through Missouri and then I'd be in Kansas and then I'd be safe with my grandparents before I knew it after what felt like forever I crossed the state line I did not want to stop the pleasure aspect of my trip was no longer about enjoying the scenery and the various states I was traveling through my pleasure would not come until I was finished driving and out of my car to my detriment Missouri was the longest stretch of the drive and I was forced to stop for gas