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“You really don’t have a reason to go there?” he asked. She shook her head.
“Nope. Never been there. I figure if you’re serious about not needing to be anywhere, we can cruise through Missouri and then head down through Oklahoma to Texas,” she suggested. He raised his eyebrows.
“So is there something in Texas?” he pressed.
“The Alamo? No, I’ve just never been to Texas,” she told him.
“Never been to Texas!? Well, lil’ lady, we gotta change that! Gal darn tootin’ yessiree, I’mma show you a high falootin’ time in the Lone Star state!” he joked in a thick southern accent.
“What was that? Did you live in Texas at some point?” she managed to ask between laughs. He shook his head.
“It's kinda like a second or third home. My mom had a brother who used to live in Austin. He still has a beach home in Galveston. If I'd known you wanted to go to Texas, it was only like a six hour drive from New Orleans. We probably could’ve crashed there,” he told her. She shrugged.
“Oh well, this was funner, and we can still crash your uncle’s beach house – twice the fun,” she pointed out.
“That is a very good point.”
Paige went to make another joke but was stopped by her stomach growling. Both she and Parker stared at her midsection. He managed to stifle most of his laughter when she glared over at him.
“You shut up, we didn’t eat breakfast and it’s after noon and I’m starving,” she complained.
“You’re always starving! What, do you have a tapeworm? A small person who lives in your stomach? Oh my god, are you pregnant!?” he burst out in comic surprise. She groaned.
“No! Jesus, Parker, I’m only twenty-three. I’m hitchhiking alone, I’m single, and I got wasted with you the other night, sono, I amnotpregnant. I just have a fast metabolism,” she explained in a sullen voice, trying not to laugh at him. He glanced at her warily.
“Well, alright ... but if a tiny person comes out of that stomach, I get to name it.”
Paige burst out laughing.
They stopped at the first place they came to that looked like it served food. It was a huge steakhouse with a large dance floor and even a mechanical bull off in one section. Paige imagined that it must fill up with truckers and people from nearby towns at night. She could just picture the line dancing already. As it was one in the afternoon on a weekday, though, there weren’t too many people when they went inside. It was a restaurant that could probably easily seat over three hundred people, and that didn’t even include the bar seating or the cocktail tables surrounding the dance floor, but maybe only twenty or so people were scattered throughout the main dining area.
Paige and Parker sat down at a table near the bar, seeing as how it looked like the bartender was doing most of the serving. They both ordered absurdly large lunches and Paige once again impressed Parker with her ability to put away food. After they were done, she decided to one up him by ordering a root beer float and a brownie sundae for dessert. He laughed and ordered a root beer float, as well.
“You beat me. I can’t handle anymore actual food,” he told her, getting out of his chair when the bartender left with their dessert order.
“Told you, fast metabolism. Where are you going?” she asked when he started to put on his jacket.
“Out for a smoke,” he replied, patting down his pockets. Paige glanced around.
“I’m pretty sure this place allows smoking,” she pointed out. He looked around as well, pulling out his lighter.
“Yeah, but when no one else is smoking, I don’t wanna be that asshole who has to light up and ruin everyone else’s environment. I’m more of a 'blend-in-with-the-crowd-of-assholes' asshole,” he explained, pulling out his cigarettes as he headed for the exit.
“You’re such a thoughtful asshole!” Paige called after him. He waved a hand before pushing through the door.
About five minutes later their sweets arrived. Paige happily dug into her sundae and chuckled evilly to herself, realizing Parker’s ice cream would probably melt into his float before he came back. She laughed at how silly she was being and at how much Parker would probably laugh, too. But after five more minutes passed, Paige realized Parker had been gone a long time – a lot longer than it normally took him to smoke a cigarette. Her sundae was almost gone and his ice cream had definitely melted. She turned in her seat to see if she could look out the big front windows when someone pulled out the chair across from her.
“Mind if I join you?” a voice with a southern twang asked. Paige looked over to see a man holding a beer, seating himself in Parker’s chair. He was in his mid-thirties, wearing a cowboy hat and a threadbare plaid shirt. Paige shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“My friend was sitting there,” she replied, turning away to look out the windows again.
She frowned, biting back a growl. Parker was out there alright, standing next to his car. He seemed to be in deep conversation with another man. Paige assumed the man was the owner of the car parked next to Parker's, which also happened to be some sort of classic car. She groaned. Parker would be out there all day.
“Doesn’t look like he’s sittin’ here no more, princess. Wanna dance?” the cowboy across from her asked. Paige glared, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
“No. You can go now,” she informed him. He barked out a laugh.
“Ooohhh, a live one. I like my women feisty. I’m Randy,” he said. She raised an eyebrow.
