She'd mentioned Susan's pregnancy before. That was probably related to the reason why she was suffering, but she didn't want to bring it back because it was a silly thought. She had a sibling, and that was all that mattered. I knew she didn't like Susan, and she didn't support their marriage since the beginning, for it always felt like a betrayal to her mother, but she had to let it go after some point.

Susan was never going to be her mother; however, she could still give her a chance to be a part of her life. I kept these thoughts to myself, though, staring out of the window. The last thing I wanted was to stir drama between us again because of an unrelated reason. In this case, her emotions drove Abby, and even if I spoke some sense to her right now, she wouldn't take it to heart. She had to live through it by herself.

As she mentioned, the road off to Blue Hole didn't take long. When we arrived, I realized I hadn't questioned the meaning of Blue Hole: it was indeed a huge hole full of water within a deserted place. However, as I got out of the car and walked closer, I noticed that the water was crystal clear that you could see beneath the sea.

When Abby stood beside me, I noticed she was changed into a clean t-shirt. The view sort of unnerved me, for I hadn't liked her walking around in a bra, but it wasn't something I would like to speak out about at all. "Hey," she said casually, throwing me a knowing grin. I guess she was amused about keeping me in the dark about her so-called 'suffering.' "More beautiful than I'd ever imagined."

"I didn't imagine anything at all," I replied laughingly. "So, do we get in or what?"

"Should we? Wouldn't it be so cold out there?"

"Scared, aren't we, Whittaker?"

"I know this is your way of getting me worked up, but seriously, I think I'm better off here, but you can swim if you like." I didn't push it, but since it was boiling, I could use some cold water—well, if not also for calming myself. I quickly removed my clothes and handed her. "Wait," she said, as I was about to jump in, "are you going to get in like this?"

"Why?" I asked. "Should I take my boxers off, too?"

I didn't need to look into her eyes to know that she was caught off guard. "No," she said abruptly. "I mean, you can change into your swimsuit instead."

"I'm okay," I replied, and before she could protest again, I jumped in. The water was indeed cold, rendering me paralyzed for a few seconds until I adjusted to the temperature. However, the clarity of it was worth the swim, for you could see everything beneath. A few divers were preparing to dive in with their tubes as I swam past them.

Then, I looked at Abby, who was watching me at the edge. "You should join me," I yelled, approaching closer so that I didn't need to yell my lungs out.

"I'm okay here," she replied with a grin. "And if I get in, who will bring you dry underwear and a towel?"

"I don't need a friend who gets me dry underwear—I need one who gets wet with me."

"That's lame, Shaw," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not getting in."

Defeated, I let out a sigh. "Alright—you buzz killer."

I had swum about thirty minutes before I felt too cold to continue, and since it was a hole, it didn't give the same pleasure as swimming in the sea. However, it helped with cooling me. I swam toward Abby to get out. She was scrolling through her phone with a straight expression when I arrived, and she shivered when I wrapped her ankle with my hand.

"Gosh," she squealed, dropping the phone. "You scared me." Then, she helped me up and handed me the towel when I plopped beside her. "I got you some clothes and underwear," she said, averting her gaze. "And we need to do the laundry sometime. I'm running out of clothes to wear."

"Why aren't you looking at me?" I asked, amused.

"I'm saving your dignity," she said, sparing me one sideways glance before turning around again. "Go change—like now. I'm afraid to see something I'm not supposed to see." My boxers weren't see-through as she was afraid, but I let her panic because it was entertaining to see her all embarrassed.

Nodding, I stood up and walked to one of the cabins to change my clothes. I didn't know what to do with my soaked boxers, but an idea sparkled once I was out of the cabin. Abby was waiting in the car by the time I joined her. "Roll down the right-back window," I asked, and she did so without question. I hung the boxers there and asked her to roll up.

To see what was going on, she twisted her head back. "George, will that thing hang there?"

"The wind helps to dry it faster, so it's a smart idea."

"It looks so ugly," she protested. When I slumped next to her, she was still in disbelief. "Are you going to let it dry there? We could use a dry machine in the hotel tonight."

"Who said we are going to stay in a hotel tonight?" She frowned. "We need to sleep in the car. I need this money to go around to the end of the trip."

"I'll cover for us," she offered.

"No."

"Yes," she huffed. "I'm not sleeping in this car again." She looked me in the eyes. "Do you need to be so tough every damn time? Can't we do something I want?"

I threw out a laugh at the paradox in her words. We did what she wanted all the time. I was running out of money. It was pretty simple, and she had to get to understand me. I wasn't going to cover all the expenses of my trip just because she wanted to stay in more luxurious places. "We do what you want all the time, Ab. You know what? You can book yourself a room, and I'll sleep in the car tonight. You're right—everyone should do whatever they want."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Soon, the two roads diverged, and we had to decide which one to take. Abby braked, stopping at the corner of the way. "Which one?"

"Go ahead and pick yourself."

"I can't decide," she reasoned, turning at me. "It's not the time for this, George. We need to decide—we are wasting time." When all she got from me was a pile of silence with a long gaze, she sighed. "Okay. I'm going with my guts, and you don't get to say anything if you don't like the one I picked."

Abby picked the post-1937 one, which meant we skipped Santa Fe—a good stop on the route. Of course, I didn't tell her that. For some reason, she was agitated because I assumed that was related to her 'suffering' so I didn't want to press on her. Though I suggested that we could stop in Moriarty, she didn't listen to me—or she didn't hear me, I wasn't sure—and drove straight off to Albuquerque.

We arrived in town at the right time for dinner, and the sight of Mexican restaurants made me starve even more. I had always been a fan of spicy food, and Mexican food ever did it for me. "I'm hungry," I announced, cutting the thick silence between us during the ride. "Can we stop by at this Mexican restaurant?"

I noticed her fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter momentarily before giving me a brief nod, as I sensed, defeatedly. It was a small cozy diner run by a lovely Mexican couple. When we gave orders, the waitress—who happened to be their daughter—chatted with us. "Are you from here?"

"No," I replied, looking through the menu and deciding on quesadilla at last. "We are on a road trip through Route 66. We are from California." Abby looked absent since we came and sat down, looking at the menu, but she wasn't reading it. "I want a quesadilla."

"That's cool," she replied, taking out her notebook. "Beef, chicken, or vegetable?"

"Chicken."

"That's my favorite, too," she said, tucking her thick curly hair behind her ear. Then, she asked what I'd like to drink. I couldn't decide between beer and coke. "Surprise me," I said at the end, handing her the menu. A beam spread across her face as if I said something entirely different.

After typing my order quickly, she turned to Abby. "What about you?" Abby hadn't heard her question at all, so I had to kick her leg under the table to get her attention. The girl repeated the question, and Abby answered her after a brief gaze at me. "Whatever he ordered." Then, handing her the menu, she cast her gaze back on me. As the waitress disappeared behind the counter, she suddenly said, "I think she's pretty. A Mexican girl in New Mexico."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it's good to see you back. I've been wondering where you have been." Crossing her arms, she leaned back against the chair and pressed her lips.

"Since when quesadilla is considered a type of flirting?" I asked defiantly.

"You see? That's you—you're so effortlessly doing it that it means nothing to you." I didn't flirt with the waitress at all if that was what she was implying. I just said what we were doing, because she asked if we were locals, and wanted a quesadilla. I didn't understand girls, but Abby was another species—she was impossible to understand.

"I think you need to chill," I replied. "You just imagine things."

"I imagine things?" She replied, a bit too loud to go unnoticed that the Mexican woman turned to look at us curiously. When I thought a considerable thunderstorm was about to come my way, she just sighed, shutting her eyes firmly, and whispered, "Fine."

When I was about to tell her that she was indeed making a bit of it, because when she shouted at me like that, she just got me worked up, the Mexican girl reappeared with a tray of quesadillas and two Cokes. I wasn't the guy Abby accused me of being—I didn't break someone's heart willingly before. I didn't even date anyone. A few hook-ups here and there, but everyone did that—it didn't make me the biggest asshole in history. Throughout our trip so far, I didn't have a record of flirting with any other girls than Abby because I didn't see anyone else.

She was the only girl for me, whom I wanted to look at for the rest of my life.

We ate in silence, as the waitress stood behind the counter, watching us, and turned up at our table occasionally to ask if we needed anything else. When I kindly replied no, she posed another question. "Are you siblings?"

"No," I replied smilingly. "We are friends."

Disappointment crossed her features for a second, but she immediately smiled. "Cool."

"Can we have the bill?" Abby interrupted suddenly, wiping her mouth. "We should go." The girl looked between us, then slightly nodded before she went to do what she was told. "I'm tired," Abby explained to me, a bothered look on her face. "I'll just go and sleep."

"Are you jealous?" I asked curiously.

"No," she replied calmly. "I finished eating, it's been a long day, and I want to sleep." Her eyes were telling a different story, though. I didn't like assuming things that I would regret later on, but it was apparent—Abby Whittaker was fucking jealous.

"Okay," I said, suddenly feeling quite amused. Seeing beneath her actions, they were no longer annoying me. When the girl brought the check, I paid it. Before we were about to leave, the girl asked to take a photo with us, standing between us, slightly leaning toward me. Her mother took our picture, and she asked for my number to send the photo to us.

"You can use AirDrop," Abby interfered instantly. "It's easier and provides higher quality." She took our phones and did it herself in a hurry. Then, she handed her phone back and walked out of the diner. Waving both to the girl and her parents, I followed her out, rather entertained by her angry attitude.

"I was going to take her number," I said once we were out. "You spoiled my plans." The rapid change in the weather made me feel cold, filling me with the urge to get in the car and start the heat.

Abby left my comment hanging in the air as she pulled open the door and hopped into the car. I wasn't surprised, for she shut me off whenever she ran out of words or didn't feel like answering. We parked in front of a hostel, and she turned at me for the first time, gazing into my eyes.

"Are you sure you're not coming?" I shook my head, no. "Okay," she replied solemnly. "Good night, Shaw." Then, she was gone.

After spending two brisk nights, tonight was cloudy. I turned the heat on and found myself enjoying the solitude. My mind was wild garbage right now, and my heart was feeling everything and nothing all at once. I was confused, angry, amused, hopeful, happy, sad, and contradicting emotions. I didn't know what this road led me to or where I precisely wanted to proceed.

I reclined the seat until it was in a position where I could sleep and angled my head slightly to stare at the sky. I spotted the moon between the dark clouds, disappearing and appearing again from time to time. I wondered about Abby if she was asleep or if maybe she was staring out in the sky like me. Letting out a sigh, I replayed today in my head, thinking of us and trying to locate these behaviors somewhere in our friendship.

I came up with this consequence: I was exhausted, sexually frustrated, and utterly confused. There was no way that I could justify my thoughts and her actions in my head at the friendship level. Yes, I'd passed the friendship level long ago, but what about her jealousy?

Before I could lose myself in this madness, or end up sleeping it off, since my eyes were starting to close up, my phone started ringing. I sought for it with half-open eyes, not bothering to turn on the light, and finally found it in the depth of my right pocket. To my surprise, Abby was calling.

"George," she said, her voice carrying a hint of panic. "Uh, can you come over?"

"Sure," I replied, straightening up with a sudden jolt. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really. It's urgent. I have a huge spider in the bathroom."

Abby was afraid of insects, and I forgot about that detail. "Okay."

"And, uh, there's one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I know it's late, but can you buy me some pads?"

Oh. "I'll try my best."

"Thank you. My room number is 301. Third floor."

"See you," I said, ending the call. Well, that explained a lot about the mood swings. It took me thirty minutes to find an open store that sold pads, which was a strange experience for me. It was embarrassing to ask for pads, maybe because it was for the first time, but the seller didn't seem surprised by my request.

I was in front of room 301 as soon as I could. Almost breathlessly, I knocked on the door, and it pulled open in seconds as if Abby was waiting on the other side of the door. "Oh, thank God," she said, once she saw me standing and pulled me inside quickly. "I thought you couldn't find them."

"I had to look around," I replied, handing her the bag. "And now, the other issue." She nodded, being reminded of the beast in the bathroom. As I walked toward there, she followed me cautiously. I turned the light on and gazed around to spot the spider but couldn't see anything initially until Abby jabbed at it with her index finger as she buried her face into my back and wrapped her arms around my waist as if I was the shield between her and the spider. "Is this the huge spider?"

"Please do something."

"If you let me go, I will."

Suddenly her arms loosened around me, and she stepped back, giving me some space. The spider was walking on the wall above the toilet. I leaned up and caught it with my hand. "Done," I announced, opening the window, putting it on the edge of the window outside, and closing it.

"Thank you so much," she said behind me, and I immediately turned around to see her standing by the door.

"At least I'm afraid of animals that are big enough."

"Spiders are sneaky," she said, grimacing, "don't fight me on this."

Though my job was done here, I didn't want to leave. However, there was no point in lingering since she looked in pain and sleepy. "I should get back," I said, walking back to the room.

"Stay," she said, looking at me nervously. "I was bored, anyway."

It was all it took for me to wait for her on the bed as she went into the bathroom. The book standing on the nightstand took my attention: The Great Gatsby. I'd watched its movie adaptation before but hadn't read the book. Well, I wasn't a book person in general—preferred movies over them.

After a while, Abby emerged from the door, a smile forming around her lips at the moment our eyes touch. She plopped beside me on the bed next, taking the book from my hands and putting it back on the nightstand. "You're a lifesaver."

"It was a great experience for me, too," I said laughingly. "You're the first woman I've bought pads for. I thought it would be weird when I asked for them in the store, but the guy seemed quite okay with it."

"Because you're probably not the first guy who bought pads."

"Probably."

I didn't have any topics in mind to linger in the conversation, and neither did she, so we stood like that, our legs touching and gazing at anywhere but each other. I didn't want to return to that uncomfortable seat after sitting on this soft bed. "You're so quiet for a bored person," I finally said.

A roar cracked into our conversation, absorbing all the attention, followed by a flash of lightning. The dark clouds gave signals of possible lightning, but things got rather interesting when heavy rain followed. Soon after, the electricity went out, rendering the room almost dark except for the illuminated part with the moonlight leaking through the ajar curtains.

"Will you go back?" Abby suddenly asked. If I went outside now, I would be soaked wet before I could get inside the car. However, I couldn't request to stay here tonight. The bed was single, and there weren't any sofas that I could crash on.

"I'd better."

"But it's raining...and it's dark."

I held her gaze, then. I didn't realize how scared she looked while I was buried in my thoughts, but now, I could see that she was asking the question for herself. "Do you want me to stay? This room isn't for two people."

"I think we could make use of this bed," she reasoned hopefully. I raised my eyebrow, for there was no way we could both lie in this bed. Maybe if we hugged—that wasn't something Abby would accept. Sighing, she added, "I don't feel safe here with lights out and lightning outside."

"Would you want me to sing a lullaby, too?"

Rolling her eyes, Abby smacked me on the arm. "I knew you would make fun of me."

"I'm kidding," I laughed. "I don't want to leave you alone," I added with a neutral tone. "So, uh, is it okay if I take my sweatshirt off?" After a moment of hesitation, she nodded slightly, averting her gaze.

Standing up, I went to the other side of the bed and pulled the sweatshirt off my head. By the time I hung it on the chair that stood at the corner of the room, Abby was already lying on the bed with her back facing me. I couldn't help the smile touching my lips as I sat on the bed first, and it made a crackling sound beneath me. Help me, God. I lay down next, leaning on my side as my bare back inevitably touched hers. Luckily, she had her t-shirt at this time, so it became more tolerable.