of a Rolls Royce. I don't exactly pay attention.”
Jess rolls his eyes. “Great, that's really helpful, Bee.” He pushes himself up off the wall and goes to stand closer to the edge of the shoulder. He stands there and then awkwardly sticks his thumb out. I try not to giggle.
After twenty minutes he calls over to me. “How long do I stand here like this?”
“Until a car stops,” I call back. “I'll just wait here. Carry on.”
Jess scowls at me and stomps back to the wall. “Your turn,” he growls. “My arm is tired.”
No problem. I have an idea. I strip off Mandy's sweatshirt and hand it to Jess. I reach behind my neck and loosen the straps of my halter top a little, so that it hangs lower on my chest. Jess raises his eyebrows.
“Is that really necessary? What if the next person that drives by is a soccer mom?”
I shrug. “It's worth a try.” I tuck the bottom of my shirt into the back of my jeans and pull it tight across my chest. I walk over to the white line and turn to look back at Jess. “So what do I do?” I tease. “Stick my thumb out like this?”
And I stick my thumb out just slightly, and the white pick-up truck passing us immediately stops. I gape at it, amazed that my idea worked so fast, and then I burst out laughing. “Come on!” I yell, and run up the highway to where the truck has pulled over.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly as I look into the truck's window. There are two teenage boys in the cab.
“Hi,” they say simultaneously. The driver glares at the passenger. “Do you need a ride someplace?” he finishes.
Jess sticks his head next to mine, and the driver's face falls. “We're going to Chicago,” Jess says. “So you're probably not going that far, right?”
“Actually,” the passenger says, glancing at the driver and shrugging. “We're going to Des Moines, so that's some of the trip for you. You could hop in the back, I guess.”
“Great, thanks,” I say eagerly. “We really appreciate it.” I go around to the back of the truck and scramble up over the tailgate. I turn around to give Jess a hand up to see him standing way back on the side of the road.
“Jess!” I wave a hand at him. “Come on, let's go!” I'm worried these guys will change their mind.
Jess walks over to me. “Do you know how unsafe that is?” he hisses. “There aren't any seatbelts, and we'd be going eighty miles an hour! What if there was an accident? We'd be thrown out onto the road! There's no way we're doing this!”
I look down at him for a moment. Okay, he's probably got a point. But there has been no evidence of anybody stopping, and frankly, it's cold out here. I reach out my hand again. “Jess?” I say. “Get your ass in the truck.”
He opens his mouth to protest again, and then shuts it. He hands me the bag of snacks and hauls himself into the truck bed. We settle ourselves against the wall, and I try not to think about how low the tailgate is.
“All set?” the driver calls.
Jess raps on the wall of the cab. “All set,” he says.
The engine starts up, and we pull onto the highway. I lean back against the cab and try to make myself comfortable on the corrugated truck bed. I would never admit this to Jess, but it is kind of scary. And really windy. Without saying anything, Jess hands me my sweatshirt back. I pull it over my head.
“I can't believe you got someone to stop after not even a minute,” he grumbles.
“It was two bored teenagers,” I say, pushing my arms through the sleeves. “It was luck.”
Jess looks at me and shakes his head ruefully. “No, it's that even though you've been wearing the same clothes for four days—”
“Five,” I correct him.
“Five days, and you don't have any makeup on and your hair is blowing all over the place and in my eyes—”
“Sorry,” I say, and tuck it into the neck of the sweatshirt.
“And you still look amazing,” Jess finishes.
I smile at him. We're sitting very close together in order to be able to hear each other, and to keep warm. “Thanks,” I say.
Jess clears his throat, and leans back a little bit, but he doesn't scoot away. “So what's the deal with your hair?” I ask, just to change the subject. “I