I never previously knew that it is possible to become tired of eating GoFast nutrition bars. But it is
possible. I’m only two bites into my fourth of the day when my stomach turns. I pull open the center
console and stick it back inside. We refer to this part of the kitchen as the pantry.
“I wish we had some apples,” Radar said. “God, wouldn’t an apple taste good right now?”
I sigh. Stupid fourth food group. Also, even though I stopped drinking Bluefin a few hours ago, I
still feel exceedingly twitchy.
“I still feel kinda twitchy,” I say.
“Yeah,” Radar says. “I can’t stop tapping my fingers.” I look down. He is drumming his fingers silently
against his knees. “I mean,” he says, “I actually cannot stop.”
“Okay, yeah I’m not tired, so we’ll stay up till four and then we’ll get them up and we’ll sleep till
eight.”
“Okay,” he says. There is a pause. The road has emptied out now; there is only me and the
semitrucks, and I feel like my brain is processing information at eleven thousand times its usual pace,
and it occurs to me that what I’m doing is very easy, that driving on the interstate is the easiest and most
pleasant thing in the world: all I have to do is stay in between the lines and make sure that no one is too
close to me and I am not too close to anyone and keep leaving. Maybe it felt like this for her, too, but I
could never feel like this alone.
Radar breaks the silence. “Well, if we’re not going to sleep until four . . .”
I finish his sentence. “Yeah, then we should probably just open another bottle of Bluefin.”
And so we do.
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