Chapter 8 | MY TYPE

Soon enough, there are only two more hours left to go. I've tried to keep my eyes open, looking out of the windows, not wanting to glance away for a second. And, with the incredible mountain views of Glennallen, it's not hard at all. Roan and I have thankfully reverted to the radio instead of making conversation, only stopping on songs either of us knows. Other than that, we haven't said much much to each other.

That is until he almost smashes us into an elk.

I yelp as the large deer comes running into view and onto the road, causing Roan to slam on the breaks as he lets out a curse. The seatbelt around me locks as I launch forward a bit. With wide eyes, I watch as the large deer continues moving to our left and out of our sight.

Of course, this isn't the first elk I've seen. This isn't even the first one I've witnessed up close in real life. However, it is the first elk I've seen in Alaska.

And, there's something so exciting about that.

After we've been driving for a couple of minutes after the elk ordeal, Roan asks me suddenly, "So, what's your story?"

I smile a bit, "Careful, you shouldn't talk too much. It might make you less of a man and more of a girl."

He sighs dramatically, "I forgot how much I hated the sound of your voice."

Ignoring him, I lie, "But, to answer your question, I'm not an open book." Then, I add something truthful, to balance it out. "I'd ask for your story, but I'm not really interested."

"You really hate me for my Jane Smith comment, don't you?"

"Yes, and the sexism and disregard has nothing to do with it."

"I was just joking."

I ignore him, "Thank you for giving me a ride."

"No problem. Are you sure you don't want to know my story?"

I take the water bottle I grabbed from my bag a couple of hours ago and unscrew the cap, taking a sip.

As I put the cap back on and put the bottle back into the cup holder, I say, "The only thing I'm interested in is why you're going to Chickaloon."

"Fair enough."

There's silence for a minute as I wait for him to continue on.

"So?" I prod.

"So, I'm going to Chickaloon because my father lives in the area."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and why are you?"

I sigh, "To visit someone."

"Why didn't you just fly?" He questions as he turns the truck along a curve in the road.

"Uhm...I love long drives."

"With strangers, though?"

"Sure," I say. Why not?

"That's kind of weird."

"Yeah."

"Are we done with this conversation?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to talk." Or more like I don't know what to say.

"Well, I'm curious as to why you're all alone and traveling to Alaska."

"Too bad I'm not going to tell you."

"Why not? Just consider it payment for giving you a ride."

"How much money do you want?" I ask.

"Oh, come on, you'd rather pay me than talk to me?"

"...Sorry."

"Just talk to me."

"Don't force people or try to manipulate them into talking to you."

"I'm not."

I ignore him and just continue looking out of the dirty windshield, and surprisingly, he stays quiet this time.

I will admit, it is starting to feel a bit lonely out here. The seemingly never-ending snow-lined road ahead, the impending mountains in the distance, the tamarack-filled forests to the right, and left.

It's beautiful and exciting, but so very lonely.

I've usually loved being alone.

It's when I can accomplish the most; it's when I thrive. However, right now, I surprise myself by wishing that there were more people to be seen. Usually, before, when I felt lonely, it wasn't because there weren't more people around me. It was because the few people around me didn't understand me, or didn't even want to. I hated feeling misunderstood, like when everyone just assumed that they had me figured out.

So, I guess I should try my best to understand others, then.

Even though I don't want to give him what he wants by talking to him, I'm still curious about his character.

"Roan?"

"What?" He replies, sounding annoyed.

"Why'd you want to become a bounty hunter?"

He seems surprised that I asked, but nevertheless coldly answers, "My grandmother was murdered a little over 5 years ago. The cops had him, were handcuffing him and everything and the guy just overpowered them. He got away and they've never been able to find him since."

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"Let me guess, you thought I became a bounty hunter just because I wanted an exciting job," he says.

"Well, yeah, honestly."

"And, it's partly true. It's definitely a benefit to the job. I tend to get bored very easily, so I could never just lounge around all day or do the same old thing for a long time."

"Can't relate," I answer.

"I can tell."

"Wow," I say, dryly.

"I'm just joking."

Then, we fall back into the same old uncomfortable silence that I get with almost everyone.

So, I check to see if my tablet's charged. Seeing that it is, I unplug it and plug my phone in, instead.

Then, I grab my earbuds so I can listen to music that's actually good while I look out at the scenery.

I click 'shuffle' and Camilla Cabello's "Easy" starts to play.

I love this song.

Even though I love music that I can relate to, I also enjoy music that makes me feel things, regardless. I think this song is just so sweet, and so hopeful. It makes me feel like maybe one day I could relate to this song.

"Always thought I was hard to love, till you made it seem so easy."

Maybe one day I'll find a love like that. I mean, it's doubtful with my lack of social and life skills, but hey, who knows.

An Alaskan stereotype is that most who live in the state are recluse men, right?

That sounds like my type, so it's looking hopeful!

But...I doubt many are going to actually be my type.

My type, which was influenced by fictional expectations and ruined by real-life realizations.

You know...the tall, hot guy? Preferably with black hair and a noticeable jawline? That's my type.

Unfortunately, most guys who look like that are probably in California making ridiculous Tik Toks or something.

I have a feeling that guys who live in Alaska are going to act as if cutting down trees and shooting at deer is a personality trait.

Okay, maybe I'm being stereotypical, but so what?

I'm preparing myself and making inferences about the future and what's going to happen. Good for me!

I honestly have no idea what to expect. Maybe I'll get lucky and make a friend, or perhaps John's friend will literally hate me and try to kill me.

Who knows!

At least it will be an adventure, either way.

And, I'm sure it will be an exhausting one, though.

I'm not at all tired at the moment. In fact, I feel like I'm bursting with energy, even though I haven't had anything to eat today. I'm glad that I slept so much during the ride with Grace, though. I know that I won't be able to properly rest until I feel safe and secure again. With Roan, I don't feel those things. When I'm alone in an unknown place, I won't feel those things.

So, I'm just hoping that John will be right about his friend. That his friend will make sure that I'm safe.

I know that I shouldn't put my safety in a stranger's hands, but I'm going to, anyway.

Sue me!

I hear faint words being said, so I pause the song that I was listening to and take out my earbuds. "Huh?"

"One hour left to go," Roan tells me, and I nod my head in response.

Only one hour until I reach Chickaloon and initiate the next step of my journey.

Which is going into the tavern and finding the two people who remind me most of my parents.

Okay...

It's currently a little past 3 pm, which means we'll be arriving shortly after 4.

Perfect timing to start looking for people at a tavern on a Friday night. I can see everyone who arrives at any time.

However, I don't think I want to begin the following phase of my journey today, too.

John wrote that once I reached the woods, I would have to walk for however long it took for his friend to find me.

I don't feel like doing that today.

So hopefully, there will be a motel or someplace for me to stay and recharge for the night.

Then, tomorrow, I'll head out into the woods and wait for John's friend to find me.

Well, technically, he wrote that the birds will find me first.

Whatever that means...

But what if they don't? What if nothing except death awaits me?

What if I get out there and just instantly get attacked by a wild animal?

Or, what if I get out there, and the birds find me, but John's friend never comes?

What if John's friend is dead?

I don't know why I always question if someone is alive or dead, but it's actually a valid question. I don't know how old or weak this guy is!

I sigh, focusing on my music again.

It seems that's all I do nowadays. Sit, read, listen to music, think, wonder, question, worry, sleep, eat, repeat.

Then again, it's more than I used to do.

As the songs change and the time passes by, the scenery changes.

It goes from an endless snowy road with one almost-faint mountain in the distance and tamaracks all around to a curved, scenic snowy route.

The immense mountainscape, along with the endless forests filled with a variety of trees, truly feels like Alaska.

Wild, dangerous, adventurous, free.

This is what I almost always envisioned when I thought of the state, or when I read about it.

But, somehow, it's so much more when you actually experience it.

According to Google Maps, the road that we're currently on is the same one that will eventually take us to Chickaloon; it's called Glenn Highway.

Google Maps also says that there are only 39 minutes left to go.

Wow. Time really flies when you're anxiously on the run.

The man beside me tries to tell me something, so once again, I pause my music and take out my earbuds.

"What?" I question.

"Do I get to know your real name?" Roan asks me.

"What do you mean, 'real name'?" I play dumb.

"You're honestly telling me your parents named you Jane Smith?"

"First of all, Smith is a common last name. Second, so is Jane. Jane Smith is a common name."

Meaning, it was easy for me to come up with. And, you're probably a lousy bounty hunter.

"Exactly. Two common names equals a boring, full one. They could have at least given you a unique one to balance out the normality of your last name."

Oh my God, would you shut up?

"I know that you're desperate to talk to me, but attacking my name and the name of so many other girls like that just really isn't necessary."

"I wasn't attacking your name."

"Then, what were you doing?"

"I was just...critiquing it."

"Okay."

"Sorry, but...you really suck at conversation."

Well, I would try to put forth the effort if I actually wanted to converse with you. "Yep."

"That's all you have to say?"

Not at all. "Yep."

He grunts, and I think of Grace.

I wonder how she's handling the Jason situation.

I'm not sure what to think of him. He seems like a shifty little man who tries to get out of taking responsibility for his actions. But, it also looks like he cares about Grace.

He may have screwed up, but I think he deserves a second chance if Grace wants to give him one.

Then again, it's none of my business. I barely knew Grace for like, two days.

However, I still wish her all the best and want to talk to her again.

And, I will when I call her to let her know I've made it.

"Why do you hate men?" Roan asks me out of the blue.

"What? I don't. I might dislike a lot of them, but that's only because they're sexist or something."

"Well, you act like you do."

Based on what? What have I done that implied that I hated men? Does he always just assume things like this?

"If I act like I hate all men, then you act like you hate all women."

"I don't hate women, though."

"Do you consider them inferior?"

"Not necessarily. It depends on what context. Physically, they usually are."

"Was it really that hard to just say no?"

"I thought you would want me to be honest."

I sigh, deciding to ignore him for the rest of the drive.