as far down into my seat as my seatbelt would allow. Twisting side to side, I cracked my back until there was no sound left. For a moment, I thought I saw Dad smile, but I wasn’t certain. I put my feet down and sighed loudly.
“Yep, I sure miss those days when I could feel my limbs.”
I sighed again and almost burst out laughing, but contained myself. I started playing with the power seating instead.
“Dad? Dad? Dad?” Skating back and forth on the chair’s axis, I began to chant like a mosquito in his ear. “Hey Dad, maybe we could make a stop? Dad? Hey, Dad? Dad? Dad?” He was pretending not to hear me.
“Dad, my leg’s asleep, I can’t feel spine, I must stretch properly.” I reached out to him like I had seen so many dying heroes do in the westerns he liked. Although he still pretended not to see, he smiled.
“We’re not scheduled for a stop.”
“Oh. Come. On!” I leaned over and glanced at the gauges. “There’s less than half a tank left, and it’s better to fill up now than before it’s too late.”
He glanced at me with a furrowed brow that told me I had won. It was already past nine, and like any practical parent, Dad wasn’t particularly fond of gas stations after dark.
“Fine, but only because I need coffee.”
I turned my head so he wouldn’t see my victory smile.
“And keep those feet off the dash.”
The next exit promised a taxpayer-funded rest stop as well as a gas station and a convenience store attached to a conglomerate of fast-food bistros compacted together. We pulled into the singular entryway only to crawl around the parking lot, attempting to look for any open spot. As we did so, it was difficult to ignore the trash blowing around everywhere and the numerous people who didn’t seem to care where they let their pets relieve themselves or where they let their children run.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and secured my sling bag across my chest. “Yikes.”
Dad rotated his neck and sighed. “Okay, forget about the parking. How about you grab us some drinks while I fuel up?” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
“I’ll get extra caffeine for you.” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before hopping out.
People all around us were honking and yelling. “You have your phone on, right?” I asked.
“Yes, Daughter.”
“Okay, Father.” I laughed.
Dad stuck his head out the open window and shouted at the van behind him. “I’m going already!”
I hustled away to avoid the horns and dirty looks that were coming in my direction. The summer was all but over, so I was surprised there were still so many kids running in and out of the main entrance, or that there were so many people there at all. Luckily, the crowds weren’t that difficult to navigate. I dodged hordes of babbling middle-aged women as they shopped for trinkets and used every ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon me’ I had to navigate through the group of confused exchange students standing in the middle of the foyer. A toddler with a runny nose collided into my legs. He looked up at me with bloodshot eyes for a moment before a large woman grabbed his wrist and yanked him away.
I decided to use the restroom before getting in line at the coffee shop, knowing full well that Dad would be vehement about not making another stop after this one. I almost took a moment to brush out and fix my ponytail but remembered the tired Dad who was probably already waiting for me in the car, so I decided to skip it. Even as I glanced around, I felt an incredible urge to get out of the stuffy restroom that was being bombarded by all of those girls and women—I felt an overwhelming urge to escape. An automatic dryer blew in my face as I gave the door a violent shove. Despite the heat the machine gave off, I felt myself shiver, a feeling of foreboding coming over me.
I continued to avoid the crowds until I saw the neon coffee cup that indicated my intended destination. The long line was discouraging, but things seemed to be moving quickly enough, so I tried to keep my frustration in check. To occupy myself, I opened up my bag and withdrew the modest-sized coffee-table book on Da Vinci that I had been browsing through in my spare time. In the last several days, I had grown