“Well, I’m thinking we’ll try Santorini next.”
“Greece. Excellent. Huge improvement, in my opinion.”
“You’re a beach guy as opposed to a mountains guy, I take it?”
“I’m a warm weather guy, honestly, and Greece has beaches and mountains. What’s not to like?”
“An unstable economy? Impossible travel? Mistreated donkeys?”
“Wait, you’re telling me you don’t like Greece?” I asked as she navigated toward an interstate based on the road signs, though I had no idea how since they were in Serbian. “How are you reading those signs? Are you an alien? A pod person?”
She shrugged. “I’ve traveled a lot, Sam, probably about as much as you. But I’m guessing I’ve done quite a bit more driving abroad—or at least more paying attention. Interstate signs all look the same, and obviously I can read the numbers.”
“Okay, but how do you know which way to go once you find it?”
“I have a good sense of direction. Born that way.”
The highway loomed up ahead, and Blair navigated us south. The map on my phone said Greece was about 552 miles from here, almost directly to the south. “Let’s get back to you not liking Greece.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just not my favorite place that I’ve visited, that’s all.”
“What is your favorite place you’ve visited?” It was the first time in a long time that I’d asked a girl such a throwaway question and been dying to hear the answer. It occurred to me that the girls I’d been spending time with since forever hadn’t been that hard to figure out.
I was enjoying the challenge.
“Probably Romania. Brasov. I really love Ephesus, too, though.”
“Those are super-random places. I’ve never been to either one.”
“That’s one reason I like them—despite Brasov being close to Dracula’s castle, it’s not a huge tourist destination. And Turkey’s instability keeps people away, even though the coastal areas are fairly safe.”
“When do you have time to travel to such remote locations? What about school?”
I watched a veil slip over her animated features at the question. Questions about likes and dislikes, fine. Ones that might reveal anything about her life, not okay. Noted.
“I’m doing fine in school, and the teachers at Whitman are progressive. High school was the same way.”
Another question, one about her father and whether he had dragged her all of those places to steal money from weak-minded people such as me, dried up when she steered us off the highway. A small cluster of restaurants, hotels, gas stations, and other side-of-the-highway staples clustered at the bottom. “Where are we going?”
“The car needs gas, and you need a disguise. Plus, I’m hungry.” She pointed. “There.”
A McDonald’s nestled next to a cheap drugstore across the street. She parked at the store, then unbuckled and dragged me inside and over to the racks of glasses.
“You pick some out, I’m going to find you a hat. And some razors for me.”
She wandered off before I could contemplate the reason for her sudden concern about grooming. Instead I spun the racks, looking for the most unlike-me pair of glasses they had available, finally settling on an oversized, horn-rimmed pair that made me look like a hipster liberal-arts professor at some hippie school.
They worked better at disguising me than I would have thought, especially with the week-old scruff crawling over my jaw and lip. It itched something fierce, but when I’d said something about shaving Blair had nixed that idea right away. Itchy was better than her holding me down and bleaching my hair or something equally ridiculous.
“I have to say, you pull off the sexy nerd look better than I would have guessed.” Her gaze found mine in the mirror, happy again and maybe even a little excited.
“You think I’m sexy?” I teased.
“I would think you would be used to girls calling you sexy by now,” she tried to backpedal, holding out a knit cap that would be at home in any number of Abercrombie ads. She also cradled a pay-as-you-go phone and two pairs of rubber flip-flops.
I turned around and pinched the hat between two fingers, trying my best not to wrinkle my nose. “I’m not used to you saying I’m sexy. Or using your words when it comes to me at all.”
“Whatever. Yes, I think you’re hot, okay?”
I moved closer so no one who happened to speak English could overhear. “And you want me?”
“I think I made that clear last night.”
It annoyed me that she sounded embarrassed. “Being attracted to someone or asking for what you want isn’t anything to feel shameful about, Blair. I think it was pretty obvious that I wanted you, too, and you’re beautiful and sexy and maddening and perfect. Please don’t feel like you have to hide from me, or be anything other than what you are. Who you are.”