We have been in the same car for what feels like an hour, but is really only 10 minutes. A minute seems like an eternity when he's near me. He's just not focused on where he's going. Every now and then he gives me a look, and that makes me kind of uncomfortable.
"You should talk, you know," he says, looking at me. He's not looking at the road at all, and I should be freaking out, but our car is the only thing moving on the narrow road. The crunch of car tires on the paved road is basically the only thing we hear. The only thing we can see on both sides of the road are grasses.
The wind blows in my face as I turn to the window, ignoring him completely and pretending I did not hear what he said. I'd rather stare at the empty, wide meadow than talk to him.
"Kim, I was just talking to you,"
