I don't know when it happens, but sleep enchants me, taking me underneath its spell. I find a peace in the endless hours of road, finding the rest that I had been lacking in this time.

    I awake to the cracking of dry drool on my chin and the fluttering of eyelashes. The sunshine burns the air, causing it to warp on the distrant road, the remnants of the sky sitting in a puddle underneath the clouds. Time has fallen through my fingers.

    "Where are we going?" I ask.

    Dexter's eyes wander over to me. "You're awake. I assumed you were in a coma."

    "Again, you have a serious problem with changing the topic," I tell him.

    He says nothing.

     "Seriously," I insist.

     "Seriously what?" He demands.

     "I want to know where we are going," I tell him.

     "I know, you keep asking," he says.

     "Dexter."

     He sighs. "What if I told you that it's a surprise?"

     I am instantly furious."Then I would tell you to fuck off and take me home. I should be allowed to know what I agreed to. Plus, you can owe me, since I agreed to help you."

    I can see jaw clench. "You don't understand."

     "Of course I don't!" I snap. "That's why I'm asking. Enlighten me, please. Please."

    Abruptly, out of nowhere, the car stops. I lurch forward, the seatbelt grasping my skin, and a startled cry falls from my lips. And Dexter's sits there, the storm overtaking his expression, threatening to consume him.

    "You don't understand," he growls.

    "You're fucking crazy," I tell him. I glance in the rearview mirror, seeing the endless stretch of cracked black road. "What if someone was behind us? You could've gotten us fucking killed. You could've killed me. I have a life! I have things going for me-"

    "Oh, get off your fucking high horse, you have nothing going for you," he hisses.

     "Really? Because the last time I checked, I have a scholarship to-"

     "Yeah, do me a favor and shut up," he orders.

     I feel tears in my eyes. And they burn and sting like wicked flames regardless that they're liquids. But it doesn't matter because I hate him and Grace and my parents. Because they don't understand, they don't understand that I'm more than a successful swimmer, and they've taken all the control in my life by giving me these labels, these shackles. Dexter Newton is no better.

    "No, you can shut up," I snap. "I have given up things, things I care about, to be here. For you. But I'm not going to let you stomp all over me, to chain me down as everyone else in my life has-"

     "Oh, don't act like a victim," he interrupts.

    "Don't interrupt me," I hiss, sputtering every ounce of venom that resides within me. "Don't you fucking dare. I don't care what you think about me, if you like me or not, if you even care. But if you're going to use me for whatever fucking thing you need, then you're gong to respect me. And if you won't, then let me out right now."

     He groans and then we are quiet. And I hate all silence at that moment; I need music and fighting and thunder. I despise him. I don't know what I'm doing. Am I crazy? My family is probably crazy worried, I've just left my life hanging. This is not okay.

    "Bliss," he murmurs finally, the seductive growl of a lion. "I may not like you, but I do respect you. I just . . . this is hard for me, okay? I don't like asking for help. I don't like to think I need people. But right now, Bliss, I need you. Like I need my lungs or my brain or my heart."

     "But what do you want? Tell me," I beg.

     He closes his eyes. "Bliss Riordon, I am dying."

     I frown, perplexed by his words. "What do you mean?"

     "I mean . . . what I mean is that I have a form of brain cancer. I was diagnosed a few weeks ago; that's why I was looking for Grace, I wanted to tell her. It didn't go well." His expression darkens. "She doesn't need this right now, she really doesn't. Grace deserves the world and the worst part is that I can't give her that, I can't her anything, because the truth is that I probably won't see the end of summer. And I'm so fucking scared. Because I don't know what is going to happen and I'm not ready to die, because even though I know I'm going to die, there is this crazy part in me that keeps on hoping. It's killing me, it literally is, and I can't help but let myself be disappointed. And that's why . . . that's why I need you."

     I don't say anything, for his reveal has rendered me speechless, but I still don't understand.

     "There were many things that I wanted to see and experience before I died, but I don't have the time or resources to do most of them. But the ones I can, I will. That's what this road trip is about, I need to see what I can of the world," he continues. "But I want you to videotape it. I know it sounds ridiculous, but . . . but I'm never going to have the chance to do anything for the world. I always thought I'd be there to make it either a better or worse place, but I will never have that opportunity. I won't leave a legacy, a monument of my time, but I will have this video. And that's something."

     There's something missing, I know there is, but I don't have the strength to speak. I can taste the words as they linger on my tongue but nothing happens.

     "So can we please go now?" He asks, somewhat impatiently, someday nervously.

     I nod.