“No, but I’m adjusting to it,” Ruby says, starting on her second pack of the crackers, the cellophane crinkling between her fingers. “It’s not fun though, that’s for sure.”

  The three fries disappear into Cole’s mouth, washed down by a swig of ice water. He leans back in the booth, ignoring his food, studying Ruby. “What do you miss the most?”

  Ruby answers without taking even a moment to respond.

  “Reading.”

  “Reading?” Cole responds, the question sounding much harsher than intended. Still, he leans forward, awaiting her explanation.

  “Yes, reading,” Ruby says, mimicking his voice, arching an eyebrow. “None of that new-age stuff either, strictly the classics. Whitman, Shakespeare, my all-time favorite, To Kill a Mockingbird.”

  The front door opens and a young man in his early twenties enters. He is dirty and sweaty, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Standing a couple inches above six feet tall, he is burly, displaying the kind of youthful arrogance that such size brings with it.

  Cole watches as the young man enters and walks straight up to the waitress with the mole, both turning and glancing in his direction. He pauses, waiting for them to turn away, before returning to the conversation at hand.

  “Is that why you deferred a year at Duke?”

  “Yeah,” Ruby says, munching on the last of her crackers, a line of broth running down her fingers and dripping onto the table. “Let me get used to one thing at a time, right?”

  A shadow crosses the table before either can say another word.

  Cole looks up to see the young man standing over their table, glowering down at him. He holds the pose for several moments before shifting his focus over to Ruby.

  “Excuse me Miss, is everything alright here?”

  The voice startles Ruby, who snaps her head towards the young man, the half-eaten cracker just inches from her face.

  Across from her, Cole’s face contorts into a mix of confusion and hostility. “What?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” the young man replies, making a point not to look at Cole. “Miss, is this guy bothering you?”

  The question leaves Ruby rigid in her seat, arms pressed tight against her sides. She shakes her head once from side to side, her face aimed straight at Cole. “No, not at all.”

  “What the hell? Who are you?” Cole snaps.

  “You sit there and shut up. I wasn’t talking to you.”

  There is no point in further conversation.

  Cole is halfway out of his seat when Ruby’s hand finds his forearm, her clammy palm cool against his skin. He stops mid-movement, his knuckles pressed against the table, rage welling within him, and looks down at her bony digits wrapped around his arm.

  “Cole, please, don’t,” she whispers. She keeps her hand in place and turns to face the young man, a forced half-smile in place. “Thank you for your concern, but there’s no problem here. This is my friend, we’re just passing through town.”

  The young man looks at her for a long moment before shifting his attention over to Cole. “Word of advice? Keep passing.”

  “Who the hell asked you for advice?” Cole hisses, his jaw clenched.

  Sensing his growing rage, Ruby stands, keeping her hand on Cole. She slides in front of the young man and tugs on Cole’s arm, leading him towards the door.

  He allows himself to be pulled along, shouldering the young man hard as he passes by. The young man is much softer than his bulk would imply, his entire upper body twisting to the side as Cole pushes through.

  Every last person in Hal’s has stopped what they’re doing, making no effort to hide their open gawking as Ruby and Cole depart. Cole senses their stares and makes a point of matching every one, defying anybody to say another word. His eyes flash with anger as patrons look on, many with large eyes and slack jaws, none more so than the waitress at the front register.

  “How much do we owe you?” Ruby asks, slowing to a stop by the register, reaching to open her purse.

  This time is it Cole’s turn to lead, grasping her hand and pulling her outside. “We don’t owe her a damn thing. Have fat boy back there pay for it.”

  The girl’s mouth drops open even lower, her bottom lip starting to quiver. Cole turns to stare at her as they go, backing through the front door.

  “Yeah, I know it was you that called him,” are the last words he says before he and Ruby step out into the midday sun, two dozen people watching in stunned silence as they go.

  The sidewalk is deserted as they walk towards the repair shop, Ruby’s arms folded across her, Cole turning back every steps to check for followers, fuming.

  After a block, Ruby breaks the silence.

  “I knew he was fat. Guy reeked of body odor and onion rings.”

  The comment almost draws a smile from Cole.

  Almost.

  It takes ten full miles of driving with the air conditioner blasting and both windows rolled down to chase the hot air out of the car. The entire time Cole and Ruby sit in silence, sweat streaming down their faces.

  The overpowering sound of wind passing through the space is too loud to accommodate conversation.

  Backs pressed against the leather seats, their bodies are bathed in sweat, heat radiating through them. It isn’t near as humid as they are used to in Virginia, but the overall temperature inside the car is at least a dozen degrees hotter.

  The town of Wakeeney recedes in the rearview mirror as a roadside sign announces they are two hundred and fifty miles out from Denver, just over three hours at their current pace. Even after cold air starts piping in through the register they keep the windows down for a few extra miles, until the sweat on their faces evaporates, before rolling them up.

  Once they are closed, the silence is booming inside the car.

  “How much did they charge you?” Cole asks, his voice low. He is no longer fuming over the incident at Hal’s, but he wears his frustration just beneath the surface.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ruby says, shifting her gaze from the front windshield to the side window. Her face is still a bit sunken in, but just a few crackers and some water has done wonders.

  “How much?”

  Ruby responds with a slight twist of her head. “You’re already angry. It’ll just make things worse.”

  Cole blows a long sigh out through his nose, just loud enough to be heard. He bows his head a moment and pauses before raising his gaze back to the road. “How...much...?”

  Ruby drops her face towards her lap where her fingers are interlaced, writhing and twisting over one another like a tangle of snakes. “Three hundred dollars.”

  Cole’s eyes bulge so large they threaten to pop from his skull, his head twisting to face her. “For a tow and a patch?!”

  There is no response from Ruby as the heat inside Cole bubbles to the surface, starting low and building within him. His hands squeeze tight around the steering wheel, veins bulging in his arms. Blood pools behind his cheeks, sweat dotting his face, nostrils flaring, lips pressed together.

  He makes it almost a mile before it becomes too much to hold in. Gripping the wheel with his left hand he smacks the center of it with his right, the sound echoing through the car. He pauses, his hand bunched into a fist on his thigh, before raising it and smacking the wheel again.

  The second shot lands center mass on the wheel, the car’s horn letting out a single blast. The sound is shrill and abrupt, catching Cole by surprise, causing Ruby to wince in the seat beside him.

  Her reaction stops his hand midair, holding it just inches above the wheel. He checks the road before looking over at her, her entire body back to hugging the passenger door.

  The hostility flees his features as the hand lowers back to his thigh. His face falls flat as he stares at Ruby retreating from him, realization setting in.

  After four hundred miles of prairie, the entire length of Kansas, there are few sights as stunning as the drive into Denver. An entire day’s journey of seeing nothing but wheat fields and cow pastures comes to an abrupt end, a dazzling city of lights and steel sitting at the base of the Rocky Mountains.

  Any trace of anger has long since left Cole. The air conditioner in the car has done most of the job in curbing the August heat, the sudden rise on elevation doing the rest. No longer is the fan needed to kick out a steady stream of cool air, the silence palpable in its wake.

  Cole has pulled his t-shirt back on, ditching the blood stained undershirt onto the backseat.

  Likewise, Ruby has wrapped a cardigan sweater around her shoulders, the temperature control on the dash just to the right of the coolest setting for the first time since leaving Virginia.

  Ahead, the descending sun dips below the mountains, a bright orange disk halfway down on the horizon. Various peaks slash across it, blocking out triangle-shaped sections of it, refracting light in various directions.

  “How you doing over there?” Cole asks, glancing across to the passenger seat.

  “Hmm?” Ruby asks, her gaze, her voice, both far away.

  Cole motions with his chin on up ahead, the movement a practiced habit. “We’re getting on into Denver. You ready to call it a day?”

  “Yes,” Ruby says, a heaviness in her tone that suggests she is referring to more than just an afternoon in the car.

  Again Cole glances over at her, searching her face, bathed in golden light. “You alright?”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  Even after just three days in the car, Cole knows her tone well enough to know not to press. He nods in acquiescence, angling the car off the highway into an exit on the outskirts of town. Despite the hour, traffic is thin, the town quiet on a summer Sunday night.

  “What say we skip the whole going out to eat thing tonight?” Cole asks. “Doesn’t seem to be working out too well for us.”

  A small chuckle, barely more than a snort, slides from Ruby.

  “No, I suppose it doesn’t. That’s okay though, I kind of just feel like going to bed tonight.”

  “You sure?” Cole asks without looking over at her, his eyes scanning the streets for a place to stay.

  “Yeah, I’ll be alright by morning.”

  Cole nods and pulls into the Traveling Inn, a rundown two-story structure with fading paint in blue and white. A hand-written sign is propped up in the window as he comes to a stop in front of the door, advertising rates at forty dollars a night.

  There are only two other cars in the lot as Cole pulls to a stop and hops out, not saying a word to Ruby or waiting for her to join him. He trots around the front of the car and disappears inside, securing two rooms in less than ten minutes.

  Ruby doesn’t try to stop him as he goes, says nothing when he returns. She remains silent in the front seat as he swings the car around to the side of the building, only moving when he tells her they’ve arrived.

  Once parked, Cole climbs out and grabs their bags from the trunk, dragging his boots along the ground to lead Ruby up the stairs to the second floor. He drops his bag on the floor outside his room and takes her into the one beside it, opening the door and carrying her gear inside. Setting it down in an armchair, he swings his gaze around the place.

  For a moment he considers explaining the layout to her, but decides against it, her body language telling him she is done for the day.

  “G’nite,” he mumbles, leaving Ruby standing in the center of the room.

  “Good night,” Ruby whispers, her head cocked towards the door, waiting for the sound of it to latch closed. Once it does, she walks forward into the room until her shins touch the edge of the bed and falls face first on the mattress.

  It is softer than the night before, a pillow top catching her slight frame as she lands. Her eyes flutter shut on contact, her entire body going slack against the soft comforter.

  The room is silent when Ruby wakes up. Without sight there is no way to tell how dark it is or even what time of night it might be, but it just feels late. A hundred thoughts crowd into her mind, but she pushes them aside, letting out a slight moan as she raises a hand and rubs the side of her head.

  Whether from dehydration or overexertion, it is pounding. Not the dull, background annoyance of a headache, but the sharp, violent stab of a pickax jabbing the back of her eyeballs.

  Rising to her knees and lowering her feet to the floor, she stands in the room, her head turning, ears searching for any sounds at all. When none return to her, she pulls the down comforter from the bed and slides it around her shoulders, the fluffy cotton enveloping her body. She folds it over herself and holds it tight against her skin, arms crossed in front of her chest.

  Moving her feet in six inch increments, she circles the bed. She pinches the comforter together with her left hand and snakes her right out from beneath it, feeling her way along. Her fingertips start on the wall by the bed, feeling along in a clockwise direction until they meet the glass of a sliding door.

  She hadn’t expected to find it, but she isn’t about to turn it down.

  The door moans just a bit as she drops the latch and slides it open, a wave of cool air washing over her. She pauses a moment and raises her face towards the sky, but there is no feeling of sun against her skin.

  It is definitely still nighttime.

  Wrapping the blanket tighter around herself, she steps out and slides the door shut behind her. The wooden slats of the balcony feel rough beneath her feet as she walks to the railing and stops, the crosspiece resting across her stomach.

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  Cole’s voice pierces the night, catching Ruby by surprise, her breath grabbing in her chest. She stands rigid for a moment, her body tensing by natural reaction, before her shoulders relax and her breathing slows to normal.

  She forces a smile. “Just woke up actually.”

  Cole sits no more than a few feet away, on the neighboring balcony. A pizza box with the lid half open is on the floor beside his chair, a bottle of sweet tea in his hand. He sits with one foot propped up on the railing, staring out at the mountains in the distance.

  Ruby turns and puts her backside against the rail, facing towards him.

  “I’m sorry I lost my temper earlier,” Cole says, a trace of regret in his voice. Still, his gaze isn’t aimed at her, but the panorama up ahead. “I wasn’t mad at you.”

  It is quite possibly the nicest thing he has said in their time together. Ruby’s lips part a bit in a surprise, though she fights to keep the rest of her face impassive.

  “I know. To be honest, you held it together better than I thought you would.”

  The words sound harsher than intended as they leave her mouth.

  Cole shifts his gaze to look at her, not sure how to take the comment, knowing she isn’t wrong. “Thanks, I think.”

  Ruby smiles and steps forward, her right hand extended, searching for a chair she knows must be there. After a moment her fingertips find a cloth folding seat and she sinks into it, the down blanket cocooning around her.

  “Not going out tonight?” she asks.

  “Naw,” Cole says, raising the bottle for another swig of tea. “Seemed more like a pizza and sweet tea night. You want some?”

  “No, thank you,” Ruby says, shaking her head, a bit ashamed she automatically assumed the sound was alcohol.

  “My mama was always on me about my temper,” Cole says, moving his gaze back to the mountains. “Always said it was going to get me in trouble one day.”

  Ruby can’t help but turn towards him, the tenor of his voice, the candor of his words, drawing her in. In the week she’s known him, it is the most honest thing he has said.

  “And has it?” she prompts.

  “Depends on who you ask,” Cole replies.

  “Your father?”

  “In a heartbeat,” Cole replies, the slightest hint of an edge in his voice, the same edge that appears every time there’s mention of his father.

  Ruby decides to leave it alone. “And what about your mama?”

  Silence is the only response, a long moment where everything is silent except for the distant sound of cars passing on the roadway. Ruby draws in a breath and holds it, hoping she didn’t offend without meaning to, didn’t step over a boundary she never knew existed.

  The floor boards creak beneath Cole as he rises and walks to the railing. He places his palms on it and leans forward, keeping his back to her. “I wasn’t always such an asshole, you know.”

  Ruby’s jaw falls open a half-inch, surprise on her face. She pauses a moment before responding, her mind fighting for the right words.

  “I never said you were, an, um...”

  “Asshole,” Cole finishes for her. “And you don’t have to, it’s not exactly a secret.”

  Part of Ruby wants to let him set the pace, to continue if he wants, fall silent if he’d rather. Still, something she can’t quite describe wants to hear the story.

  “So what happened?”

  The words are out before she even realizes it.

  A heavy sigh rolls out of Cole as he turns and faces back towards the building. He glances over at Ruby and folds his arms across his chest, aiming his focus on the faded floorboards by his feet.

  “Five years ago, I was the starting quarterback for Liberty College. Just a small school, nothing like Duke, but, you know, it was something.”

  He pauses a moment, remembering the story in vivid detail.

  “October, sophomore year, my parents drove down to see me play. The game went into double overtime and it was pretty late by the time they left.

  “Pulling out of the parking lot, a car ran a light and t-boned them on the passenger side. Killed my mother on impact. Some drunken frat boys that had been boozing since ten a.m.”

  The last line is just above a whisper, years of heartache and bitterness dripping from the words.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ruby mutters, her mind fighting to process everything she’s being told.

  Cole doesn’t acknowledge her comment, didn’t even hear it in fact. His focus is somewhere else, a long way off and a long time ago.

  “It was the last game I ever played. Couldn’t bear the idea of playing without her there to see me. At the end of the semester, I withdrew. Never went back.”