A/N: Okay so here is the second chapter of Road Trip from Hell. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed XD! I originally thought this was only going to be 2 chapters, but now that i'm writing it i'm pretty sure it will be four :/ For some reason writing this chapter really made me want to chain smoke and get a chocolate shake...Still don't have a chocolate shake :C (But I did go through an entire pack of cigarettes...good god I smoke to much!) Spell check's are still the bane of my existance...I'll stop rambling now so you can read. As always, I do not own Death Note.
"Matt pull over, I have to throw up." I tell him urgently while taking deep breaths to keep from vomiting right at that very moment. Matt quickly pulls to the side of the road, next to a field. We had literally just entered Oaklahoma when my stomach flipped and decided everything in it needed to come out.
The van doesn't even come to a complete stop when I jump out and start throwing up. Within moments Matt was behind me, holding back my hair. I stand there, hands on my knees, relearning how to breath while Matt pets my hair, keeping it out of my face. Matt has always been insanely good when it comes to taking care of people, especially when they're ill. If I hadn't been so nauseus I would of smiled at the concern he was showing me.
He hands me a bottle of water without saying a word. I take a sip, swishing it around my mouth and spitting it out. Man I really need to brush my teeth again, my mouth tastes like fruity stomach acid with a side of chocolate. Not the best combination.
"You okay?" Matt asks me in that soft tone of voice he uses when he knows someones not feeling well.
"Yeah, I guess. Man I feel like shit, I don't know what the hell is wrong with me." I tell him, taking a small sip of the water.
"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?" He says. He's obviously worried about me. I guess it makes sense, I really don't get sick that often. That was Matt's deal.
"Naw, let's just stop at a gas station. I really want some Vernors. The last place I stopped didn't have any, and I really need to brush my teeth again too."
Matt just nods, moving to get back in the piece of shit van.
We are only a few miles down the road when Matt askes, "Hey Mells, you haven't seen Mew have you?"
I think about this for a minute, moving from the position i'm sitting in with my knees pulled to my chest to look in the back of the van. "No, come to think of it. I haven't seen the fuzzball since we were in Indiana."
"Shit, that's the last time I saw him too. You don't think he ran out while we were eating do you?" Matt asks, a hint of panic in his voice.
"No. I mean we would of noticed, wouldn't we of?" I offer.
"I would think, but this isn't like him. Usually in a car he's right on top of you, trying to sit on your feet while your driving."
"He's got to be in here. We would of seen him if he ran out. I mean, even if we didn't notice him leaving the van, we would of seen him running away or some shit."
I don't think Matt believes me. He starts calling for the cat, glancing in the back. There's no responce.
"Hey pay attention to the road, we'll look for him when we stop at the gas station, okay?" I finally say. Matt is clearly worried about his cat, and is damn near trying to crawl in the back while driving.
"Okay." He pouts.
I really hope the fat ass cat is in the van somewhere. Matt's had that cat since we were seven, dragging it around with him everywhere. If he lost Mew now it would devistate him.
I knew bringing Mew was a bad idea.
Of course the next gas station was like fourty miles away. I gaze out the window, eyes half closed, trying to ignore Matt's fidgiting. I had only been able to sleep for maybe a half hour since Matt took over driving. Sleeping in cars, or on planes, or in anything that's moving isn't my best talent.
The sun is setting over the endless fields outside my window. I notice smoke in the distance and give it my full attention. They're burning the crops. I knew there were some crops people torched in order to harvest them, but i've never seen it. I have no idea what's growing out there, but the warm glow of the fire mingling with the setting sun is one of the coolest things i've ever seen.
We finally exit the freeway (if you can call a two lane blacktop in the middle of a bunch of fields a freeway) and pull into the closest gas station. It's one of those big truck stop kinds. Great, more redneck truckers.
Matt is trying to crawl in the back the second the van is in park. I tell him i'm going in and will help him look for Mew when I come back if he still hasn't found the stupid animal. He ignores me.
I head right to the bathroom so I can brush my teeth...again. Thankfully it's devoid of people. The water here doesn't taste nearly as bad as the water in the last place, but still not as good as the water in Michigan. In the short time I was in that state I was converted to drinking tap water again.
I splash some water on my face and run my hands through my hair, God I look like shit. I really needed some sleep, I was starting to look like L did with the dark circles under my eyes.
I exit the restroom to check out the stores extensive collection of drinks. The whole store was huge, full of souviners, dolls, dvds, car essentials, stuff like that.
I walk up and down the wall looking at the drinks. No Vernors, of course. If I would of known I was going to be sick I would of stocked up on the shit. As a matter of fact I don't see any ginger ale, but there are alot of drinks here I don't recognise. I mean come on, they have to carry some kinda ginger ale, don't they?
Finally I give up and ask the clerk. She looks at me as if I just stepped through another dimension. A large man with a beer gut and stained t-shirt is hovering close to the counter, because my five foot four and a half inch, one hundred and eight pound frame is oh so terrifiying. (So I haven't hit my growth spurt yet, I wont even be 18 till next month, so shoot me.)
She informs me that no, they don't have any ginger ale in their impressive selection of beverages (my words, not hers), but they do have 7-up, which is damn near the same thing.
7-up is so NOT even close to ginger ale...especially not Vernors. I tell her this, in not the most polite of ways.
The idea of drinking 7-up at the moment makes me want to throw up again.
I grab a Coke instead. Flat Coke helps settle stomachs too, not nearly as well as Vernors...
I leave before Mr. Macho can find an excuse to start a fight with me. Not that I wouldn't mind a good fight at the moment...but i'm tired, and really just want to take another nap.
When I step outside I see Matt frantically trying to remove a massive amp from the back of the van. Great, he still hasn't found the damn cat.
"No luck?" I ask, shaking up my coke and slowly opening the cap enough to let some of the carbination out.
"No! I called him and crawled over all that shit and I can't find him! What if he is back in Indiana? Mew isn't an outdoor cat, and there are all those trucks, and.."
I cut him off right there, grabbing a hold of the amp he is trying to remove, helping him lower it to the pavement. "I'm sure he's in here Matt."
I'm really not sure. Matt's right, if that goofy animal ran out in Indiana its dead by now.
We move a mixing board next and what do we find? A lazy ass Mew sleeping in the space between the bed and the eqipment.
Matt actually squeels in delight, SQUEELS! I didn't know he could still make that noise. I start laughing at him as he picks up the black ball of fur and hugs it so hard I seriously thought he was going to break it.
"Oh my God Mew! I thought I lost you! Don't ever do that to me again you dumb ass!"
"Told you he had to be in here." I say smugly.
"You were lying the whole time Mello. I know you were just saying that shit to make me feel better." He returns with a huge grin.
"Your point?" I say dead pan.
"No point, just stating the facts." Matt responds, still grinning ear to ear.
"Let's go, i'm tired." I finally say, replacing the mixing board. I grab the amp and struggle to get it back in the van while Matt goes to hook a leash to Mew. The fucking thing had to weigh more than I did!
We're back on the road in no time, Mew now on a leash that's hooked to his harness. The leash is tied on to the center counsel, insuring the cat can't escape into the maze of equipment again. It's a long leash, and Mew has moved to sit on top of the closest speaker. That's fine with me, as long as we don't have to haul that shit out of the van again.
Matt starts to laugh at me when I curl up sideways in the seat, head resting on my messenger bag that's between the seats, legs up on the arm rest attached to the door, blanket securly wrapped around me. It's still fucking freezing out here, and Matt keeps opening the damn window so he can smoke.
I punch Matt in the thigh for laughing at me and drift off to sleep.
I know this chapter was kind of short, sorry for that :/ But if I didn't stop right here it would of been terribly long... All the rediculouly horrible (and funny) things are to come (Yes it gets worse than Mello throwing up in a field and losing a cat lol).
Also just fyi, I personally have no problems with truckers lol, but Mello aparetly does :P
Next chapter will be up as soon as possible, please R&R, I love reading them!