Her confession shook me, making me feel all of the possible emotions that ever existed in the world. Friendly or not, it was amazing to know that she cared about me as much as I did about her. Even in the morning, her eyes were haunting me—that affection I'd seen in them.

Since our road wasn't so long today, we preferred to sleep longer than usual. By the time I was widely awake, it was around nine, and we left the hotel at half-past ten after breakfast. Abby looked fresh, her hair in a ponytail and dressed in a new pair of clothes that I hadn't seen on her before. We hadn't chatted much during breakfast, mostly concentrated on eating and drinking green tea, but I couldn't help watching her from time to time.

When we collected our items and went to our car, she claimed the driver's seat. I offered to drive today, but she said she could take this turn, for I drove all day without a proper sleep yesterday.

Our first stop today was Cuervo, a little town in New Mexico. Abby specifically wanted to drop by to visit a red brick Catholic church. Besides that, it was a ghost town. As we parked in the driveway, I cast a glance at the little church. "It was built in 1915," Abby informed me with a very sophisticated tone, her eyes skimming through her messy notes. After hopping off the car, and walking inside the church, she continued telling me about the history of this pretty little church, mostly about the builders—she wasn't sure—and the past of Cuervo in general.

This little town was left isolated, and even now, being one of the stops on Route 66, it only had a few gas stations and this small church; no cafés or any tourist attractions. Inside, sun rays were passing through a fog of dust, creating a mystic atmosphere. There wasn't much to see, but I managed to take some great shots, mostly featuring those sunrays escaping from the window.

"It's so hot," Abby said, once we were out, and she took off her t-shirt, which left her in her sports bra. I tried not to look in her way, mostly fixing my eyes on the road as we followed the path back to the car. However, it was impossible to peek when she walked beside me, wiping the drops of sweat off her neck, and using her t-shirt. "I think I've tanned here," she said, extending her arm out toward me, "look!"

Her pale skin looked a bit reddish rather than tanned, as she stated. "I think you should apply sun cream," I said laughingly. "Or, you'll turn out like a rotted chicken by the evening."

With an eye-roll, she replied, "Ha-ha." Despite her dry laugh, I could see that she was not annoyed. She looked slightly amused. I felt relaxed that we caught our mood back together, teasing each other without feeling tense or offended. The tension from that night was utterly gone, and it was as if we were almost back to the times, we were just friends, stepping nowhere further beyond it.

I was trying to think less of that, though, and focus much on our current status. On the one hand, I thought our bond was too strong to be broken by a single misunderstanding, though it wasn't entirely a misunderstanding on my end, and on the other hand, I could feel that things were still so frail between us after all.

She hadn't put her t-shirt back on. After we settled inside, I expected her to put it on, you know, but she threw it in the back seat and started the engine. I'd gotten no problem walking around in a bra, but having full control over your untamed thoughts wasn't that easy when Abby stood so close, wearing insufficient layers of clothes.

"Aren't you cold?" I suddenly asked, feeling too hot with the windows shut.

"You kidding?" She asked, sparing me one glance in surprise. "It's boiling! Are you?"

"No." It was just a tricky question so that I could throw my jacket on her shoulders. However, it was so hot, and I had no luck but to remove my coat, too. "So, where are we heading off now?"

The change of topic seemed to cheer her up. "Santa Rosa. There's an auto museum there with cool cars." Well, that museum spoke to my soul. "Thought you'd love it," she said, reading my thoughts.

"You know, I was the one who came up with Route 66 trip, but you own this trip."

Abby shrugged her shoulder, throwing me an amused look. "Well, don't you know I love planning, huh?" That she did. She loved planning things to the full extent and drowning in detail. I didn't mind, for I wasn't good at it myself.

After twenty minutes, Abby found the Auto Museum via navigation. The museum's front was full of old cars of various colors. I'd already loved it. When I took my camera out, I was planning to take several photos, but the session lingered when Abby entered the frame. Then, we entered in with a charge of five bucks.

"George," Abby said, jabbing a finger at a shiny red car. "That one is so cool." When she took my hand, it was so uncalled for, but I followed her toward the car as she sifted through it. Then, asking for permission, she got inside and shot me a reassuring smile.

As she was lost in there, I went to buy us soft drinks. Sitting at one of the tables, I waited for her to join me. "The woman is so friendly," she said, referring to the owner. "She told me a few things about the history of that car."

"She probably liked you. You've got a charm on old ladies."

"Yeah," she huffed, staring daggers at me. "Only old ladies are into me." Her tone was far from being annoyed—she said it like it was what she believed. I mean, of course, she sounded annoyed but more than at herself than at my words. If only she knew how attractive she was and that she was driving me crazy. I used all the power within me to keep my gaze above her neck.

"Well, it's strange coming from someone who's just dumped her boyfriend like yesterday." That got her attention. "Well, and me heartbroken."

"When did I break your heart?" She asked incredulously.

"It must be that you've accepted to date Roy right after we kissed."

This conversation has suddenly taken a turn. Abby's face slightly blushed, this time, I figured out soon, it was out of anger. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who stepped back that night. Not me."

"You were intoxicated, Abby," I said matter-of-factly. "There's a fat chance that you imagined me as Roy in your head, and that made you kiss me. I stepped back that night because I would never take advantage of you."

She let out a breathy laugh. "So, you're saying, if I kissed you, you wouldn't have walked away." Leaning a bit closer, and meeting my gaze, she added, "That you would stay."

I wasn't sure if this was a question or a clarification. I only walked away because I thought she kissed me out of lust. She was intoxicated, but my theory of her imagining me as Roy had suddenly become reasonable. "We will never know, though," I replied with a solemn grin. "Because we promised not to rewake that memory."

"Yeah," she replied casually. "We did."

That was the end of our conversation. I slumped against the wooden chair, folding my arms, and roved my eyes around the museum again. I had no idea what Abby wanted. Whenever the topic was out of the box, she urged me to shut the issue, but now, she was bringing it back on her own accord.

"What's next?"

"Blue Hole," she replied distantly. "It's close by." Then, wordlessly, she raised from her chair and walked to the exit. Heaving a resigned sigh, I followed her off to our car and called shotgun. What a funny thought to think things would be perfect, once Roy was out of the picture.

As she was about to start the engine, I suddenly said, "What are we doing?"

Abby turned around to look at me. It was as if she correctly understood what I meant to ask. "You're perfectly fine. I'm sorry. I told you not to talk about it. It's just—" She sighed. "I'm sorry, George. There are things I need to deal with and resolve within myself. I'm sorry for blowing up on you."

If only I could understand. "You know you can share with me, right?" She nodded, but I could see that she wasn't convinced. "I get it. You're going through a tough stage, but we can talk it through."

"The thing is, I'm not going through a tough stage because of what you assume." I frowned. "I'm not sad over Roy, George. I didn't like him that way. I mean, yeah, he was fun to talk to, and I really wanted to feel something toward him, but I can't." I just listened to her, urging her to go on. "I'm suffering because of an entirely different reason."

"Wait. Why?"

"Maybe one day, I will let you know." She looked away laughingly. "When it doesn't matter anymore, and we can laugh about it, you know. Right now, it's not that funny."

"This way, you just make me more curious." She shrugged her shoulders. "Shouldn't we be together through thick and thin?"

"Don't know if such a rule exists for best friends. It applies to spouses."

"Well, it's a good rule, so why not? Come on,"—I nudged her arm—"I'm dying here."

Then, she started the engine. "Maybe one day." Before I could insist, she already pressed on the gas pedal, and the car hovered forward.

***

Early update!

Update days didn't change but I'm making an exception for this week. This platform makes me happy most of the time so I run here whenever I'm feeling down. You could say it's one of those times.

Your thoughts are essentially important to me so don't hesitate to drop a comment about anything. Oh, and please don't forget to vote.

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See you next week,

Sev