Each mile closer to home and farther from the protective birches of the cabin has Jonas leaning over the steering wheel to check the sky and crushing the accelerator into the floorboards. When he starts to swerve, I force him to pull over for fuel, sugary snacks, and a driver switch, but he refuses to rest.“Stop staring at me and sleep.” I take a bite of the apple pie that tastes exactly like two tons of condensed sugar and chemicals in a flaky cardboard crust. Jonas yawns and weaves the kiss boble over and under his fingers. “You’re good to look at.”I try to move my smile to the left so he can’t see it. “You’re useless if you can’t stay awake to fight. Who knows what we’re walking into?”“Good point. Why are we walking into this again?” He levitates the boble over his second knuckles and bumps it up and down over the ridges. “We could have at least gotten word to your parents.”“How? They’re ghosts right now. I’ve been trying to get some kind of connection with them, but they must have blocks up.”
