Part Nine - Part One

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The drive feels endless, each mile stretching into eternity. My legs are numb, my brain teetering on the edge of shutdown, and Scott's warmth pressed against me only adds to the discomfort of my overheated skin. His soft breaths caress the side of my neck as his head rests on my shoulder. Opening my eyes slowly, I see we're still on the road.

When the driver notices I'm awake, he hands me two granola bars and two bottles of water. His brown eyes catch my attention. "Pensé que podrías tener hambre," he says.

I smile at him, genuinely grateful. "Muchas gracias."

He smiles back, and I open the water, taking a huge gulp that soothes my parched throat. My neck is stiff and sore from sleeping at a weird angle, and I massage my left shoulder, unable to do the right since Scott is using it as a pillow. The road ahead looks just as endless as before, but a billboard catches my eye, prompting me to wake Scott.

At first, he resists, but I eventually rouse him. "What?" he asks, his voice hoarse, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. "What time is it?"

I shrug. "You alright, sleepyhead?" I chuckle softly.

He grins, rubbing his face. "Yeah. Where are we?" He glances around, trying to make sense of our location.

Scott is one of those annoyingly attractive people who look perfect even after sleeping. I force myself not to stare.

Another billboard appears. Scott looks at the driver. "Gracias," he says, "but I think we'll get off here."

I'm taken aback. "What? We can't get off here. Are you crazy? This is like—"

"What do you mean, what?" he asks, rolling his eyes. "I just saw a billboard that said San Diego." He looks irresistibly annoyed, his lips frustratingly perfect.

I start to protest, but he cuts me off. "So tell the driver to drop us at the nearest stop."

"There are no stops," I say, exasperated. "Scott, I really think we should—"

"Just tell him already!" he snaps.

Closing my eyes, I try to dredge up any useful Spanish from ninth grade. Nothing comes to mind except curse words and phrases about sex.

"I can't remember anything," I admit, opening my eyes to see Scott's light brown eyes scrutinizing me. "Only curse words and sex. I can't form a coherent sentence."

Scott bursts out laughing. "Oh my God! What did you even learn in the ninth grade?"

"Important things," I reply, shrugging. "I can't really remember. It's all a blur."

"Like sex?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "That's important to you?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you," I tell him, turning to the driver. "Uh... Lo siento, pero el lunes apesta y todo lo que puedo pensar es joder."

The driver looks as surprised as I feel, considering I have no idea what I just said. "¿De Verdad? Ustedes están follando?"

"Tal vez," I reply with a forced smile.

Scott nudges me. "And? What did he say?"

I look at him, frustrated. "You're asking me? I have no idea what I'm telling him. I could be telling him to kill us."

Scott rolls his eyes and pushes me back against the seat, his forearm across my stomach. "We thank you for your help," he says slowly, as if the driver were a child. "But we need to get off now. We really appreciate your help."

"I don't think speaking slowly is helping," I mutter, rolling my eyes. "He speaks Spanish, not slow talk."

Scott glares at me. "Can you shut it and let him answer?"

The driver looks at me with kind eyes. "No entiendo."

Scott throws himself back against the seat. "Okay, yeah, he only talks to you," he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

I almost laugh at his irritation. Surprisingly, I understand what the driver said. "Déjanos aquí."

The truck slows down, and Scott looks ecstatic. When it stops completely, I shake the driver's hand. "Muchas gracias."

Scott is already out of the truck. The driver smiles at me. "Cuídate," he says.

I furrow my brows but reply, "Sí," hoping it's appropriate.

The driver gives us a salute, and I wave as he honks, making me jump. He laughs and drives off, leaving us once again in the middle of nowhere.

Scott seems to be looking far off into the distance. "We should head in that direction," he says, pointing to a house in the distance. "Maybe they could help us. They might have a phone."

I fold my arms over my chest. "And what if they don't have what we need?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "You don't seem to realize we're in the middle of nowhere."

He scoffs. "Of course I see that," he says, rolling his eyes. "They could be our—"

"Only chance," I finish his sentence and shake my head. "This is a house, Scott. Who knows what's lurking there?"

I really don't have a good feeling about this. My gut twists, and I can't let him go alone. We have to stick together.

Scott throws his hands up in the air. "Really now, Zayn?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "You need to stop watching those documentaries. They're messing with your pretty little head."

Rolling my eyes, I turn and start walking toward the forest. Sighing, I push some branches out of my way.

"This is all your fault," I say breathlessly. "Can you see where your idiot behavior has led us?"

"Hey!" he calls after me, gently pushing my shoulder as he catches up. "I think I like you better speaking Spanish," he says with a chuckle. "That was sexy back in the truck, by the way. Talking in Spanish and all."

He's teasing me, and he knows it. My cheeks flame up, and I blame it on the heat. "Don't be silly," I warn him. "I barely knew what I said back there."

Scott smirks, the right side of his mouth higher than the left. "I liked it," he says honestly, looking at me.

Not really knowing what to say, I just smile.

"You should teach me," he adds in a teasing voice. "We could have sex in Spanish."

I snap my head toward him. "What the hell, Scott?" I ask, glaring at him. "You're so disturbed it's scary."

Scott ignores me and bursts out laughing, bending over to hold his knees for support. "Just imagine it though. You screaming 'sí, sí!' while I scream 'gracias, gracias!'—it would be so much fun! Can you picture it?"

His laughter is contagious, and I find myself giggling. "You're such an idiot," I say, shaking my head. "And who told you that you'd be topping? You shouldn't be so certain about sleeping with me."

Scott's laughter dies down almost immediately, and the smile vanishes from his lips. "Topping?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "Like toppings for a cake or something?"

Seriously? I want to laugh at him. "Dude," I say, dragging the word dramatically, and running my hands down my face. "You just ruined the moment!"

The furrowing in his eyebrows tells me he's being serious, and I roll my eyes. "You know, sometimes I don't know if you're okay upstairs or not," I tell him with a sigh, pointing to my temple. "Top means the person that, you know, does the jiggy jiggy. You fucking me, and I'd be the bottom."

Scott looks at me and tilts his head to the side. "What?" he asks, chuckling. "You did not just refer to sex as 'jiggy jiggy.'"

Opening my mouth to say something, I immediately regret it because his grin is back. "You're basically giving me permission to fuck you," he says in a seductive voice.

"No, I'm not!" I exclaim, feeling my face heat up as he looks at me with lustful eyes. "Can you—you're such an ass, honestly!"

Scott laughs, and I cover my face with my hands. I find myself smiling despite the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay, let's focus," I say, taking a deep breath. "We need to find help, not joke about... jiggy jiggy."

Scott's laughter subsides, and he looks at me with a mixture of amusement and seriousness. "You're right," he says, nodding. "Let's go."

We walk in silence for a while, the forest around us thickening. The air is cooler here, and the shade is a welcome relief from the sun. Birds chirp in the trees, and the sound of our footsteps crunching on the forest floor is oddly comforting.

Scott stops suddenly, turning to me. "Zayn, listen," he says, his tone serious. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. This whole situation is just... a lot."

I nod, appreciating his honesty. "I know," I say softly. "We're all stressed. But we need to stick together and figure this out."

He smiles, and for a moment, I see the vulnerability behind his confident exterior. "Thanks," he says. "Let's keep moving."

As we continue, I can't help but think about the complexity of our situation. Scott, my sister's boyfriend, who reciprocates my feelings, and Elliot, my ex, who adds another layer of confusion to my life.

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