Eric must've been pretty far off into sleep, the way he barely replied to her invitation/command to sleep. All she got was a soft snort before more silence-- relative silence, anyway. Outside were sounds of engines and slowly-moving tires. Amber couldn't believe anyone could sleep with all that noise or the anxiety adrenaline flooding her, but good for him. He'd slumped off to the side, like a kid despite the first-class suit. He was pretty damn cute, in fact. Amber grinned; she'd torture him with that fact once he woke up.
The ride was boring. Eric was hands-down the most attractive scenery around but, as much as Amber loved him, she wouldn't have wanted to spend hours staring at him even if she didn't actually have to keep her eyes on the road. It was dark, the other cars were slow, and Amber kept watching out for holes in traffic to advance into. She wasn't going to stay stuck to the bumper of some old geezer scared to hit 50 mph. A chorus of honks complained at her weaving in and out of traffic, but so what? It just spurred her on to go faster and show them who was boss.
But, aggressive driving or no, there wasn't much to do except think about what was up ahead. It'd be good to talk to Brian. He'd find Eric boring, probably, and tell her to find someone with a proper sense of humor-- then again, Brian considered toilet jokes the sign of a real man. Amber wasn't about to take his advice. If Eric were white, Geoffrey would think him too good for Amber. God, Geoffrey would be insufferable, as he always was, but the good thing was that she'd had to deal with him a whole lot less ever since his family started tagging along to these functions. "The little Princess," if nothing else, was very timely with her look-at-my-doll and I-spilled-coke interruptions.
Frustratingly slowly, the states rolled by, all of them the same expanse of asphalt and dark-green highway signs illuminated up by car headlights. Finally, though, her ass numb and arms cramped, the exit for Worcester came up and Amber took it. Within a few minutes she was driving into a Star market parking lot.
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The ride was boring. Eric was hands-down the most attractive scenery around but, as much as Amber loved him, she wouldn't have wanted to spend hours staring at him even if she didn't actually have to keep her eyes on the road. It was dark, the other cars were slow, and Amber kept watching out for holes in traffic to advance into. She wasn't going to stay stuck to the bumper of some old geezer scared to hit 50 mph. A chorus of honks complained at her weaving in and out of traffic, but so what? It just spurred her on to go faster and show them who was boss.
But, aggressive driving or no, there wasn't much to do except think about what was up ahead. It'd be good to talk to Brian. He'd find Eric boring, probably, and tell her to find someone with a proper sense of humor-- then again, Brian considered toilet jokes the sign of a real man. Amber wasn't about to take his advice. If Eric were white, Geoffrey would think him too good for Amber. God, Geoffrey would be insufferable, as he always was, but the good thing was that she'd had to deal with him a whole lot less ever since his family started tagging along to these functions. "The little Princess," if nothing else, was very timely with her look-at-my-doll and I-spilled-coke interruptions.
Frustratingly slowly, the states rolled by, all of them the same expanse of asphalt and dark-green highway signs illuminated up by car headlights. Finally, though, her ass numb and arms cramped, the exit for Worcester came up and Amber took it. Within a few minutes she was driving into a Star market parking lot.