Carter glances at us briefly, then back to the road. His playlist starts with ambient beats and no lyrics—but halfway through the third track, Haven stitches the Bluetooth to her phone and reaches forward to crank the volume. Something darker pulses through the speakers now. She leans her head back against the seat, one foot propped on the dash.
Carter slows the car as a gas station comes into view after a few miles. “I’m actually going to stop here for a sec,” he says, pulling in.
I glance at him. “Do we need gas already?”
“No but I need something to drink,” he shoots back, cutting the engine.
Haven sits up straighter in the passenger seat, suddenly more awake. “If there’s slushies, I’m getting one.”
I snort, pushing the door open as we pull to a stop. “Of course you are.”
Haven makes a beeline for the slushie machines once we’re inside, grabbing a cup and filling it without hesitation.
“What’d you get?” I ask, leaning against the counter, watching her.
“Cherry,” she says, like it’s obvious. “The only correct answer.”
“Respectable.”
Carter walks up beside us with his own cup, and I know it’s going to be something stupid before I even look. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”
She leans over, peering into his cup, then immediately starts laughing. “No. Absolutely not. Carter, what is that?”
He looks between us, completely unfazed. “It’s blue raspberry, lime, banana and cola.”
Haven shakes her head, laughing while she grabs a straw and poking it into his drink. “I’m trying it.”
“You’re going to hate it,” I tell her.
She takes a sip. Her face shifts just slightly before she swallows. “Okay, that’s… not good.”
“Thank you, I’ve been telling him for years.”
Carter rolls his eyes, taking his drink back. “You both have absolutely no taste.”
“Yeah,” I grin, grabbing my own cup and filling it with straight cola, because I’m not insane. “We’re definitely the problem here.”
Haven bumps her shoulder into mine. “You’re the problem in general.”
I glance down at her, holding her gaze. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”
Her smile sharpens just a little, but she doesn’t answer. Carter clears his throat, heading for the register.
“Pay now, flirt later,” he says.
I follow, shaking my head. “You’re just mad your drink sucks.”
“It doesn’t suck.”
“It absolutely sucks.”
Haven laughs again, and for a second, everything feels lighter.
We head back out, drinks in hand, and Carter tosses the keys in the air before catching them again.
We drive for miles, past gas stations, too many trees and not enough houses between them. I catch Carter’s profile in the rearview, and my mind drifts back to the little text I sent him at the gas station earlier. The one that made him glance at me funny, just for a second, before he tucked his phone away.
Carter slows the car near a twisted little side road, the rusted metal gate barely hanging off one hinge.