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I twist in the seat, grab the toiletry bag from behind me. I unzip it, pull out the little orange bottle of pills.
"Two," he tells me.
"I should drive," I try. We still have another hour and a half to go. Sometimes he gets sleepy when he takes them.
He shakes his head, his hair falling across his forehead, motions towards the mug of coffee I made him. "I'll be fine."
I dump two tiny, white pills into my hand, replace the top and then put his anxiety medication back into my bag, tossing it onto the backseat.
He takes the pills from me, pops them into his mouth and grabs the mug of coffee. I watch as he chugs down the caffeine.
We're going home.
To watch his mom take her last breath.
To watch his mom die.
I don't say anything. I don't know what to say, if there is anything to say. I think, in this case, words won't make anything better. They're useless, unnecessary, insignificant.
We drive in silence, neither of us ready to face the inevitable. I want to reach out a hand and find his because I'm sad, too. I'm hurting, too. But this isn't about me. Not now. It's about Kyle. It's about what he's losing. What he's saying goodbye to. What he's going to have to deal with when it's all over.
I'm losing, too.
It's just, my loss isn't as big or grave or monumental as his. And I want to make him feel better, the way he does me, but I don't know how to.
His hands grip the steering wheel tighter.
The summer before Freshman year, Mom didn't want me to go to summer camp with Fallon and Matt. She said she didn't trust the counselors to keep us safe. She had this unnatural fear that I'd be taken from her. Sometimes, I think she still feels that way.
"What if she drowns in the lake, Billy?" she had argued with Dad. "What if someone walks into their campsite and steals her? Or, worse, murders her?"
"Lainey," Dad sighed heavily. "She's 14. She knows how to swim. She knows how to fend for herself. Give her more credit."
"She's not going." Mom's tone was final, unwavering.
I got angry and ran out the front door, slammed it as hard as I could behind me. It wasn't fair; everyone else got to go. It was only for a few days, and I had already promised Mom I wouldn't eat before I swam, wouldn't go anywhere without Fallon or Matt and would call every morning to let her know I had not been kidnapped.
She had still said no.
I ran as fast as I could to the Thompsons', my feet pounding against the hard earth. I wasn't paying attention and hit something hard as I stepped off the path and onto their driveway.
I heard an hmph as a pair of arms wrapped around me, steadying me. "Watch where you're going."
I looked up at Kyle, fury pumping through every blood vessel in my body. "You watch where you're going."
"You almost barreled into my car," he shook his head at me. "You're so clumsy you probably would have dented the bumper."
I'm sure he thought I would be impressed by his chivalry, but I was only aware of how close my body was to his. How his arms were still wrapped tightly around me, my fingers lightly resting on his chest.
"Your hair," he frowned. "Why is it blond?"
I blinked away a few stray tears. "None of your business."
His arms tightened around me as he looked suspiciously at my hair, then my face. "I have to go," he finally gave in. "I'm late for a date."
But he didn't release me.
"With Hannah?" I replied. "You guys finally official?"
