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“Do you like driving?”

“I do.” She spared me a quick glance. “I get to meet interesting people and mostly I set my own hours.”

“We’ll have to be sure to check out more art on this trip.”

The Mitchell Corn Palace was everything I’d imagined and more. Like Wall Drug Store, it was chock full of souvenirs, but this place had a definite kitschy vibe. The building itself was designed to resemble a Moorish castle, if Moorish castles were covered in corn pictures. Inside was even better. We checked out the murals – all two hundred of them – taking pictures and critiquing them as we went along.

For an hour, I forgot all about my problems with my parents.

We stopped in the gift shop, where I bought two corn cob coffee cups, some magnets, and a jar of corn jelly, before making our way to the concession stand, intent on finding the famous popcorn balls I’d read about.

“That one’s almost the same color as your hair,” Jenny teased, pointing to a bright pink popcorn ball.

I liked having my hair an unusual color. I was considering doing something more permanent when I got back to Seattle. Maybe a lighter pink.

“What makes these stick together?” I asked the bored looking teenager working behind the counter.

“Corn syrup mostly, and butter.”

“Yum. I’ll take two!”

I told Jenny that she needed to try a popcorn ball too, so she picked out a yellow one for herself. We passed a giant corn on the cob statue on the way back to the parking lot and I asked a passerby to snap some pictures of Jenny and me snuggling up to it and making kissy faces. Jenny pretended like she was humoring me, but I could tell she was having fun too. I liked to think I was loosening her up a little.

Reluctantly we got back on the road, knowing our next stop wouldn’t be as much fun. About an hour outside of Mitchell we stopped at the entrance to a gravel road and Jenny helped me power on my burner phone. I called my mother’s cell phone from memory, not surprised when she picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Mother, it’s Blair.”

“Blair, oh my God! Where are you?” I could practically hear her gesturing to people to get the trace going, or maybe that was just my imagination.

Jenny made a ‘hurry up’ gesture and I started speaking quickly.

“Listen Mother, Katy told me you were worried. Like I said in my email, I’m on a vacation with limited communication access. I’ll be back in a week or so. Call off the FBI and whoever else you got involved. I am safe, I’m healthy, I’m traveling voluntarily, and I’m having a great time. I’ll see you and Father soon. Bye.”

I hung up the phone before she could answer, then powered it off and handed it to Jenny. She dropped it to the ground, then crushed the cheap plastic under the heel of her boot before tossing it into a patch of cornstalks.

“That’s littering!” I protested.

“Don’t care.”

We both stilled, staring at each other, and I couldn’t say why, but suddenly we were moving closer to each other. We stopped about an inch apart, my eyes staring up into hers, then I lifted my hands to her shoulders, popped up on my toes, and did what I’d been dying to do for days – I kissed her.

Jenny froze for a second, then her arms slid around me, pulling me closer. She licked at the seam of my lips, and I eagerly opened for her. She deepened the kiss and I clung to her, kissing her back with all my might. Our tongues tangled, bodies rubbing together as the kiss went on and on.

Every other kiss I’d had in my life paled in comparison to this one. When we finally broke apart so that we could breathe, my heart was racing and my panties were embarrassingly damp.

“What was that?” she whispered, staying close.

“The best first kiss of my life,” I said cheerily. “And if I’m being totally honest, I’ve wanted that to happen ever since the Starbucks in Issaquah.”

“Me too,” she admitted.

Then she sighed deeply. “But this is a terrible idea.”

“My whole life lately is terrible ideas,” I reminded her. “But we should probably get out of here. Katy said to put as much distance between us and the phone call location as possible.”

Jenny seemed to snap out of whatever lustful stupor she’d fallen into. “Yeah, you’re right. Let’s hit the road. If we push we can probably make it to Chicago tonight, or at least Milwaukee.”