Chapter 18 Hannah
HANNAH
Igasp and my eyes fly open as I jerk awake. The sun is rising in the distance, and the only thing I can see in front of me is the freeway. I flick my eyes to the rearview mirror, seeing the unmarked vehicle behind us. Still keeping watch.
Thomas’s hand squeezes my palm, and there’s a nudge on my shoulder. “You’re okay, Han.” His voice is low and soothing.
“Sorry,” I sit up straighter. “I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep. How long have I been out?”
“Maybe thirty minutes,” he tells me. Arson pushes at my shoulder again, and I turn in my seat, letting go of Thomas’s hand.
“That’s it?” I question with a yawn, scratching at the top of Arson’s head.
“Yeah. If you want, we can pull over at the next rest stop and get you a bed set up in the backseat. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
I’m shaking my head before he finishes. “No, I’m fine. I’m sorry I fell asleep. I can take a shift if you want to sleep in the back?”
Thomas also shakes his head. “Nope. I’m good.”
I narrow my eyes.
He chuckles. “Seriously, I’m fine. I had two cups of coffee before we left, and I’m used to nights of no sleep. This is a walk in the park.”
“Sure,” I say sarcastically. Yeah, I’ve done night shifts with no sleep, too, but that doesn’t mean driving with a lack of sleep is easy.
“Do I sense some sass from you, Hannah?”
“Nope.”
“Sure,” he drawls, returning my earlier comment. “You up for some music now?”
I shrug. “I guess, but radio stations suck. Where are we, anyway?”
“Passed through Ankeny, Iowa while you were asleep, so we have about seven hours left according to the GPS.” Thomas reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a small silver item. “I grabbed this at the last second since I figured we’d want music, and I agree, radios suck.”
He holds out the older version of an iPod for me to take. “I haven’t had an iPod since high school,” I respond. “Do you really still use this?”
“No,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m old, but I’m not that old. I use my phone for music, but since neither of us have ours, I figured I would grab this.”
I plug the device into the adapter, and it powers on. I scroll through some of the music, finding a lot of old rock and country on here.
“Finding anything you like?” he asks after a minute.
I’m about to say no when I find something particularly funny. Without saying a word, I press play. The first notes fill my ears, and I carefully watch his reaction, unsure of what I’m looking for, but knowing there’s a reason behind this song being on his iPod.
“What is this?” he questions, his brows furrowing before a bright red creeps up his neck, even the tips of his ears flushing as he realizes. “Shit, is this Glee?”
I burst out laughing, perhaps the lack of sleep and stress making me a bit punchy, but never in a million years would I have expected Thomas to have not one, but multiple Glee songs on his iPod. “Yes,” I shriek.
Thomas groans, “Dammit, Marley.”
“How is this her fault?” I question through laughter as the song continues to play. “Thomas, this isn’t even like a popular Glee song that everyone knows was on Glee. This is a Glee deep-cut!”
“Marley used to make us watch it with her! I can’t help it if some of the songs are good, Hannah!”
“I never said they weren’t good, I just never expected you to have them on your iPod,” I laugh. It feels good to laugh so unabashedly. The last—not even twelve hours—have been so chaotic and anxiety ridden that I needed this.
The song ends, and my body lags again. I’m so exhausted, but I know I can’t sleep anymore.
One, it’s not fair to Thomas to expect him to drive the whole way.
Two, I don’t know if my brain will be able to relax again.
It did before, so maybe it will, but at the same time, I don’t want to sleep.
What if I fall asleep and something happens?
What if they’ve been secretly following us the entire time and choose the moment I fall asleep to attack? Cause an accident or something worse?
A shiver rocks through my body, and I try to stop the spiral. I focus on the music instead, throwing an old country album on.