I’m tired. I’ve dozed off in the backseat of the car, probably, somewhere in the dark expanse of Kansas. I remember a lot of calamity and singing when we hit the Kansas border, the new energy of a road trip just started, sheer excitement and anticipation of an all-night drive. Her driving makes me nervous — she swerves and corrects abruptly as she texts and checks Instagram. It bothers Jessica too, and occasionally she’ll grab the wheel to steady us while Brandi texts someone and takes both hands off the wheel. I will come to appreciate this behavior in the most general sense — Jessica will be an anchor of reason when others begin to float away on the buoyancy of their overwhelming emotions.
We pull into Salina around 2am, stopping for gas on the edge of town. By the time we exit farther into town to stop to pee and buy snacks, we’ve listened to “Salina” by The Avett Brothers three times through. They sing along. Brandi closes her eyes and coos her favorite part; Jessica grabs the wheel and curses her under her breath. We survive and pull into the Walmart parking lot. My eyes can’t adjust and everything is hazy; once inside, I find I’m having trouble focusing them on anything. I don’t want to be awake, and this all feels like a dream. I count the hours to Colorado. We might make it by sunrise, if we keep up a good pace. I buy a bunch of snacks, the biggest bottle of water I can find, a zippo lighter and a pack of Camel shorts. I am not a smoker.