Chapter 2

At 5:50 PM, I hitched a ride on a truck and finally made it to the entrance of the town.

The RV was parked all the way at the back of the gas station with the awning already out.

There was a table loaded with grilled meat and cold drinks, and Emily was lounging in my sun jacket, sitting in the folding chair Ryan had set up for me.

The armrest of that chair had a crooked carving of my name on it, because Ryan had tried to etch it in for our first anniversary, and it came out wrong.

I couldn't bring myself to throw it away, so I made sure to bring it along on this trip.

Now, Emily was annoyed by the scratch on the armrest, so she was using a fruit knife to scrape it off.

When Ryan saw me, he reached out and stopped her hand. "Don't scratch it. Claire treasures these old things, and she'll be upset if you ruin it."

Emily let go right away, looking at me with a pout. "Sorry, Claire, I didn't know this was the one you always use. Ryan said you don't like sitting outside, so I thought it'd be fine to take it."

"She's been busy the whole trip, so when would she even have time to sit?" Sophie Lane joked, biting into a skewer. "Now that Claire is here, we finally won't have to eat charred meat tonight."

The others laughed along.

For the past six days, I had been up at five every morning to boil water, and I was always the last one to shower.

Whenever somebody got tired on the late-night drive, I took over for a couple of extra hours.

Last night Alex said he wanted ravioli, so I made over forty of them by hand in the bumpy RV.

None of them even bothered to wash a single dish after they finished eating.

I stood outside the awning and didn't even respond to their jokes. "Give me my ID."

Ryan grabbed a cold drink from the table and walked over, and his hand went damp from the condensation.

He held the straw up to my lips and used that soft, coaxing tone he always used when he wanted to smooth something over.

He said, "You've been on the road all day, so have a sip first. We really did go too far earlier, and I'm sorry on everyone's behalf. We'll stay in town tonight and head out again in the morning."

I turned my face away, and the cold drink hit my chin, sweet syrup dripping down my collar.

He looked at me, a bit of helplessness showing in his eyes. "Still mad?"

"My ID," I said.

Ryan looked at me for a moment, pulled out my ID pouch, but didn't hand it over.

He said, "Emily's never been to the northwest before, and she wants to take the northern route.

"Your southern route is way out of the way. Promise me you'll change it tomorrow, and I'll give you your ID back."

Emily immediately stood up, trying to explain, "Ryan, don't be like this. If Claire doesn't want to, just forget it. I can just take the bus back tonight. It's not like anyone actually wants me here anyway."

She kept saying she'd leave, but she was still wearing my clothes, and my thermos from home was right at her feet.

Ryan's fingers tightened around the ID pouch as he shoved it back into his pocket. "Who said you're not welcome? This trip isn't only Claire's, and she doesn't get to make all the decisions."

I stared at the bulge in his pocket, and it suddenly hit me that leaving me at the service stop hadn't been a spur-of-the-moment thing.

Emily had even brought a change of clothes, and they'd already made room for her in the RV. They'd planned to pick her up at that fork in the road today, and none of them bothered to tell me.

"When did you guys plan to let her join the trip?" I asked.

Sophie cleared her throat and looked down, busying herself with the grill.

Alex answered for Ryan, "We'd already decided before the trip even started. Emily's been feeling pretty low lately, so Ryan wanted to help her feel better. We thought you'd overthink it, so we just decided to do it first and explain later."

So last night, when Ryan insisted I sleep in the rooftop tent, it wasn't because Emily suddenly joined, and there wasn't enough space.

From day one, the biggest double bed in the RV was always half empty.

He said his back hurt and he needed to sleep alone. I believed him and spent the whole night in my sleeping bag on the roof, with the wind whipping around me.

In the morning, he rubbed my stiff shoulders and laughed, saying I was being a baby.

At that moment, Emily's floral nightgown was hanging right over the edge of the double bed, almost like she was marking her territory.

I didn't confront them. Instead, I pulled out the northern route pages and laid them on the table. "Alright, I'll switch the route. Now give me my ID."

Ryan's expression softened, and he finally handed over the ID pouch.

Inside, there was only my ID, and the watch was gone.

I pulled my hand back and let it go without another word.

Ryan thought everything was settled and slung his arm around my shoulders in that familiar, affectionate way. "That's my good Claire. Go change and grill some potatoes for everyone, because Emily doesn't like lamb."

His palm was still warm from the grill.

Back in our dorm days, he always warmed his hands before he touched my face.

Now I had been standing in the sun for two hours, and he did not ask whether I was all right, and all he thought about was what Emily couldn't eat.

I brushed his hand off. "I'm not doing this anymore."

For a moment, everything went silent.

Ryan looked genuinely caught off guard, his expression turning sour. "Everyone's been waiting for you, and you can't even make dinner for us? Claire, you're not here just to serve everyone."

"That's something you should be telling them," I retorted.

I turned and got back in the RV, heading straight for my stuff.

My clothes had been neatly folded in the top cabinet, and now they were a wrinkled mess shoved under the bed.

My toiletry bag had been dumped next to the trash can, and most of my skincare products were gone.

Even the mug with our graduation photo on it, the one that belonged by my bed, had been turned into an ashtray by Emily.

Ryan followed me in, grabbed the enamel mug, and dumped the ashes into the sink. "Emily didn't know it was yours. I'll just clean it up, alright? Don't sweat the small stuff."

The ashes washed away, but the graduation photo on the mug was now stained, the faces blurred by dirty water.

He wiped it off with a tissue a couple of times, then went to put it back on the bedside table.

I reached out and took it from him.

He'd waited two hours in line on graduation day to get this mug personalized. On the bottom, it said: [Let's go to the next stop together.]

I was about to clean it up.

But the smell of smoke came up out of the sink, so I let go and let it drop into the trash can.

Ryan stared at the mug, finally realizing I wasn't going to give in to him this time.

Outside, Alex suddenly banged on the door. "Ryan, the rental company just called. They said the RV's been flagged as stolen, and the renter needs to go to the police station right now to explain."

Ryan turned to me. "You didn't call off the stolen report?"

I closed the storage cabinet and pulled out my key to the RV.

"No," I said.