Here we are, I'm finally back at college, and I have a chapter for you all. I feel like this is another "turning point" of the story. You'll see what I mean once you get into it.

I would like to thank everyone who's read this far. The FFN stats are still glitched, so who knows how many views I'll get today. No matter what, I'm determined to see this story (or fic, as some insist on calling it) through to the end. Enjoy!

Current music: 9 to 5 - Dolly Parton

LUCAS' POV

The weeks went by at a snail's pace at first, but then time seemed to speed up as I settled back into the routine of "normal" life. At least, as close to normal as I was likely to get anytime soon.

You see, I was well aware that after being involved in such a high-profile event, there would be nothing resembling normality for me. This story would dog me for the rest of my life. As my mother had exclaimed angrily on one occasion, it would be in our obituaries. That's all we'd be known for.

And yet, I still had to live my life. I went out for the occasional walk or jog, preferring times when there were fewer people out. Even then, I often looked over my shoulder to ensure that I was mostly alone. I'm not sure how many people recognized me, but I believed I was pushing my luck as far as it would go.

I stayed away from my parents as much as I could. Luckily, they didn't yell at me anymore to go downstairs and watch Fox News with them, though I could only imagine what sorts of poison Tucker and Hannity were filling their minds with. And, given that Fox was the most-watched news program in Forrest County, the brains of Mr. and Mrs. Teller weren't the only ones being affected.

I eventually reached the bottom of the mountain of homework I'd been assigned over the summer. When this happened, I was happy at first, but within seconds I realized that I shouldn't feel like celebrating.

That's because I had nothing to do anymore. No purpose would guide my life until I was able to return to school. After coming to that conclusion, I decided that it made no sense to want more free time, not if you knew the potential pitfalls of having no commitments.

And boredom can not only be torturous, it can also be treacherous. It can lead you to make decisions you'd never make otherwise. Some say that the first person to attempt Mount Everest did so out of boredom rather than actual determination or skill, and it cost him his life. Who knew if that story was true, but it made sense to me.

As the days went by, I came closer and closer by the minute to attempting my own personal Everest. It was a less remarkable feat than reaching the summit of Earth's highest mountain, but no less dangerous.

Each time, I was able to talk myself down from that ledge. It was stupid to even consider it. One day, I'd be able to let go of that what-if, and then I'd be happy again to pursue what really mattered.

That's what I wanted to believe. Unfortunately, it wasn't true.

One afternoon, the next-to-last one before the school year started, I was sitting on my bed, laptop in my, well, lap, when the urge to visit Tinder again hit me like a brick wall. And while I'd resisted this temptation on numerous occasions prior to this, I began typing commands into my keyboard frantically, as though my fingers had minds of their own.

And there it was: The profile of Janelle Wilson.

She had not updated it since the last time I'd checked. If my intention had been to stalk Janelle, I would not have gained any new information; but luckily for her, it wasn't. For all the faults of my parents, they'd at least drilled into me that such an action was not okay.

Should I contact her again? Or should I just forget about it?

I weighed my options for a few minutes, my face feeling hot the whole time. I didn't want to be the one to let my resolve vanish first, but something else spoke first: My understanding that we only live once, and I wouldn't stop wondering what-if.

And so, despite my better judgment, I ended up picking up my phone and dialing the number still listed on her Tinder profile. Each digit I pressed gave me even more trepidation, but I was determined to do this quickly, before I could talk myself out of it.

And then I hit the call button. Too late to go back now.

"Hello. Who is this?" the voice of Janelle Wilson asked, sounding somewhat panicked.

She probably thinks I'm a stalker or something! I need to set the record straight.

"It's me, Janelle. It's Lucas" I replied breathlessly. "It's not a stranger."

Janelle grunted on the other end. "Thanks for clarifying that, Captain Obvious. So, not to be rude or anything, but why are you calling me? I thought we had gone no-contact."

"True" I said blankly.

"So? Why are you the one to violate that contract? Is there a good reason for that?"

This was it. I had one chance to tell her the truth, one chance to make my suggestion heard. And I wasn't going to let it go, no matter how impulsive it might sound.

"Do you want to head to dinner tomorrow night?" I replied. "It's the last night before school starts, after all. Want to do something special before the school year starts?"

There was a long silence on the other end. And then…

"You know, that doesn't sound like a terrible idea. I think we could do it."

"Really?" I blurted out, because her initial answer had sounded somewhat sarcastic. I wanted to be sure that she wasn't just humoring me.

"Yeah, it sounds quite pleasant actually. It'll be nice to catch up after a while. Although I do have some concerns, still."

"Like what?"

What Janelle said next should have been obvious to me from the get-go, but I'd been blinded by the headlights, as it were. In weeks and months to come, I'd never fully understand how I managed to keep that obvious fact from myself.

` "Well, my parents make me watch Fox News every night, where they never stop talking about me. It gets old, fast. But there's no doubt someone will recognize us when we go out, no matter what sort of restaurant it is."

I was a bit stunned by that logic bomb, even if it was just that: Logical.

"You're right," I muttered, slightly deflated. "I don't know what we do."

"Simple, really," Janelle replied. "At least, it could be simple. What if we go somewhere fancy, like Morton's?"

Morton's was the most high-end steakhouse in Forrest County. Supposedly it was a chain of restaurants, though I hadn't done much traveling around Earth and had only seen the one. But Janelle was right: A more upscale place might have more security, or at a minimum, more privacy.

Still, I hesitated. "That's a lot of money, Janelle. Going to such a swanky place isn't cheap, you know."

"Well, it's just a question of if the extra security is worth forking over the extra dough. Personally, I think it is."

"Fair enough," I replied. "Let's do it; at least, if I can get my parents to agree. They haven't exactly been nice to me over the last month."

Janelle sighed. "Believe me, Lucas, I know. I said this before, but my parents force me to watch Fox & Friends with them every single day. And it's torture. I just need a break from them, even if it's only an hour or two!"

Man, I have it pretty good. It's easy to forget, but things could be a lot worse. At least my parents have mostly left me alone this summer!

"All right," I said. "I'll make the reservation. And I'll see you tomorrow night."

"You too, Lucas," she responded softly.

After we both hung up, there were Butterfree on my stomach. A lot of them. The way Janelle had spoken to me at the end was almost…sweet.

Does she like me?

It was one thing to feel positively about another person you'd met, but a distinction must be drawn between that and a more romantic feeling.

What if she like likes me? As in, is attracted to me?

Quite frankly, I was sailing through uncharted waters here. I'd never even considered myself the romantic type, and my initial connection with Janelle had been, if I'm being honest, out of sheer boredom. To think that maybe she had feelings for me in return was almost more than I could comprehend.

In a way, though, speaking to Janelle again felt as freeing as sprouting wings and learning how to fly probably would. It was almost euphoric just to hear her voice saying something that wasn't accusatory or angry in any way.

Of course, there was still one barrier to this dinner happening: My parents' approval, or lack thereof.

About half an hour after I got off the phone with Janelle, I worked up another type of courage: The bravery that would be needed to ask my parents if I could make the reservation at Morton's. Hey, I was already through the hard part, wasn't I?

Ferguson: So you admit now that you did have feelings for Janelle Wilson. I didn't think we'd get to this point.

Defendant: Nor did I. Even now, I don't think I wanted to admit how I truly felt about her. That's why I dodged some questions earlier.

Ferguson: Did you just admit to perjury, Mr. Teller?

Defendant: I did not, Darren. I said what I believed to be true, and that's not lying, even if it ends up being wrong. You're not going to get me on that.

Ferguson: Back to your parents - how did they take the news that you were talking to Janelle yet again?

Defendant: They didn't take it well at first. They kept asking me if I had gone mental - for all I knew, maybe I had - and they also said some very nasty things about Janelle.

Ferguson: What were those things?

Defendant: I don't think I should say them here. Suffice it to say that they were some of the most hateful words in the English language. If I were to utter them now, clips of my testimony would go viral, and that's the last thing I need.

Ferguson: Fair enough. I am sorry that your parents reacted that way.

Defendant: I don't think you're sorry, but okay. Anyway, my parents did relent eventually once I assured them I'd be home by ten. Now that I was no longer grounded, they didn't want to be helicopter parents anymore. That was a relief.

Ferguson: So you made a promise to your parents. If only one thing is sacred in this world, it's one's promise to those who cared for them throughout their childhood. At least, it should be sacred, not trampled upon willy-nilly.

Defendant: What is your point here?

Ferguson: Were you able to keep your oath, Mr. Teller? Did you return at ten?

Defendant: I might be back at ten, or the early hours of the morning, or never. All the possibilities were floating around in my mind - I didn't know what would happen.

Ferguson: We're almost a year removed from that date, Mr. Teller. So please tell me: Did you return at ten?

Defendant: No.

My parents eventually agreed to let me drive my mother's car to the Morton's restaurant downtown. According to Mom, this was so that I'd be extra careful not to crash it. "Not a scratch" were her exact words dictating how her vehicle should look when I returned it.

The reservation had been scheduled for half past six, and it had cost me a pretty penny. Only time would tell if it was worth it.

Janelle was already there, her hair tied back in its usual manner, her eyes quite thoughtful as they stared out the window. She did not seem to notice me at first.

I sat down next to her, at which point her face seemed to light up. "Hey!" she exclaimed, in an excited (rather than annoyed) manner.

"Good evening, Janelle" I responded, trying not to sound saccharine. I wasn't trying to hide anything from her, so I wasn't sure why I felt this was so important. Oh well, it is what it is.

"Hello, Lucas" she said wistfully, brushing a few tiny bangs out of her eyes. "How have you been the last month?"

I considered hiding the truth from her. But Janelle deserved better than this. She had agreed to eating out, after all; I could show her more tact than that.

"It's been rough," I told Janelle with a sigh. "I didn't tell you this on our call yesterday, but I'm really worried about what's going to happen now. The school year's starting soon."

"Hey, you can bask in the glory" she told me in return. "There are people who'd kill for that level of popularity."

I snorted with dry laughter. "It's not going to be glorious, Janelle. There's no getting around that. I'll probably be hounded by reporters until my dying day, even at school." I wanted to add, You'd think school's a sacred place, but evidently not around here.

"You know what I mean," Janelle replied. "But you could always pursue a book deal."

"Yeah, fat chance of that."

Before my "date" could respond, the hostess came over and told us to follow her to our table. You know, the usual routine you go through at restaurants.

Once she'd poured us both some water, Janelle and I stared at one another for a good two or three minutes. It was as though we were both daring the other person to break the silence, while doing it in the most subtle way possible.

And then Janelle was sent into a fit of laughter. I'm not kidding; she actually laughed. It was as though she were sweeping away all the trials and tribulations of the last several weeks, with a sound warm enough to light a glacier on fire.

"Why are you laughing?" I replied, but it was infectious. It didn't take long before I was seized by a series of giggles as well, and then we were both chortling audibly, to the point that many of the other patrons were glaring at us.

"I…don't…know" Janelle responded with a slight grimace. "It's just…man, I'm really glad we don't have to go through this charade anymore. We don't have to pretend everything is normal while being bombarded with questions. We can go back to school tomorrow."

I didn't want to burst her bubble, but in the back of my mind, I knew full well that she was wrong. Or maybe she was lying through her teeth. But we wouldn't be left alone, not by a long shot, not when so many news anchors were looking to make a profit.

"Yeah" I said with as much happiness as I could muster. "I guess we can."

"You don't sound too happy, Lucas. Do you want to talk about it?"

Since when does Janelle care about my feelings? Really, it's like she's done a total 180.

I shook my head. "It's fine," I told her. "It really is. I've just got other things to deal with."

Should I be honest with her about this? Yes, I should, because she's a lot kinder to me than she used to be. I'll go for it.

"Janelle, there's something that's been weighing on me for the last few weeks. I didn't want to bring it up, because I didn't want to ruin the mood, but I have to."

"What is it, Lucas?" she responded, tearing a bread roll in half.

I elected to cut right to the chase. "I really feel like we should be helping out the Pokémon world."

Janelle now looked like a Deerling in the headlights, glaring at me as though I was from an alien planet. She was utterly frozen.

"That world doesn't exist, Lucas. It never did. Officially, it's a figment of our imagination."

My stomach dropped like it does on a very tall roller coaster. So much of my recent past had been dominated by Nexus - Janelle had just claimed that none of it had ever happened. And yet, it had been so real to me.

I was reminded of a story I'd read on Reddit one time, the one about the lamp. You know which one I'm talking about. Suffice it to say, the idea that Nexus had never existed, that Leopold, Sionne, Chilly Waters, and Zeraora were just figments of my imagination - it hurt. (Well, except for Arkoon - I didn't much care about him.)

"You're joking," I muttered. "You have to be."

Janelle sighed. Then, she whispered the following into my ear:

"I know it's real, because I experienced it too. But I wasn't joking, Lucas. We can't just talk about that stuff in the open like this. There's no privacy at a Morton's steakhouse, whether we like it or not."

My heart rose again. It was a false alarm after all.

Of course, another possibility was perhaps even more disturbing. Maybe the Pokémon world still needed our help, and we were abdicating our moral obligation to save it. All so we could live in a racist backwater and eat at a swanky steakhouse, while Nexus dealt with many threats.

But we were just visitors to that world, I told myself. It's not our job to be the universe police.

Still, human reasoning can excuse almost any evil. And if our actions caused unnecessary suffering, I wouldn't let myself off the hook.

Eventually we got our food; we'd both ordered a nice, juicy filet mignon with a baked potato on the side. And we ate in near-silence, other than of course the sounds of cutting the steak and chewing it.

During the meal, I was acutely aware of all the eyes plastered on the two of us. Of course, this was just the new normal now, and to some extent, I'd gotten used to it. But make no mistake: I was by no means immune to wondering what they must have thought of the two of us.

The steak itself was delicious, just the way you'd hope it would be after spending so much money to eat it. I just couldn't enjoy it as much as I might have without the emotional turmoil (as well as the internal debate as to whether I should be having emotional turmoil.)

Once we were both done with our food, we waited for the check. During this time, I glanced at my phone, which revealed that it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

"Hey, Janelle?" I asked, taking her hand in mine.

Her eyes dilated a bit, and she gasped in a happy manner. "Yes?" she responded. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?"

"Well, it's more of a suggestion," I replied. "Would you like to head out and go for a drive in the country?"

Much like inviting her to eat at Morton's, this seemed like the obvious thing to do, like such a great idea that I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it before. Perhaps that's just what we needed.

Janelle giggled a bit, probably from nerves. "They might recognize us," she said sheepishly.

"We just ate at a crowded restaurant without any disguises," I responded. "I think this was far more worrisome in that regard."

She smiled. "I can see your logic, at least. Yeah, let's do it."

"You're in?"

Janelle nodded. "Let's just make sure we're back by your curfew. Didn't you say it was ten?"

"Yeah, I did. And I'm not going to give my parents a reason to punish me again. So I'll have you back here by nine-thirty, and then I'll drive myself home. I'll be a responsible teenager."

My "date" snorted in response. "Responsible teenager is pretty much an oxymoron. Especially in your case."

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, I'm doing my best. It's not my fault that we got sent to another world last time we had dinner together in Forrest County. Some things are just freak occurrences; by definition, you can't predict them."

"Maybe you can't," Janelle agreed. "Just, you know…let's hope there isn't a storm tonight."

I shuddered at the suggestion, but shook my head almost instantly. "It's not going to happen, Janelle. I don't think we need to worry about it."

"Are you sure? Did you look at the forecast?"

I grimaced. "I have to admit that I didn't. But just look at the sky - there are only a few clouds, and they're not exactly dark clouds. I think we'll be fine!"

"I never said I doubted you, Lucas. But you'll have to do more than be right this time to regain my full trust. You may not have cheated on me, but there are other ways to break trust."

I felt almost deflated. "I…broke your trust?"

"By saying I'd get back safely the first time. Isn't it best to walk your date to the door? Trust me, you don't want to go through what I experienced when I last ended up in the Pokémon world."

"First of all, being 'dates' can be debated."

Janelle laughed without humor. "Lucas, we met on Tinder. There's no better word for it as far as I'm concerned. We are dating."

Even though she clearly wasn't happy with me for the first "betrayal", I couldn't help but feel exhilarated at some of her words here. More specifically, the last three.

We are dating. Her words, not mine.

If there had been a few Butterfree in my stomach, there were now hundreds of them, tickling my insides and making it difficult not to be thrilled. I was thoroughly over the moon.

Ferguson: When you asked Janelle if she wanted to go for an evening drive, was there anything predatory in your intentions?

Defendant: No, there wasn't. But even if there had been, I would have said no. How am I supposed to prove there wasn't?

Ferguson: You raise a fair point, Mr. Teller. It's all too easy to analyze events based on their actual results rather than their intended results.

Defendant: Well, what's the point in saying that, Darren?

Ferguson: It's quite simple, really. Both of us know what happened next, don't we?

My memory is that after dinner, we walked out to my car against the darkening sky. We weren't holding hands with one another, but make no mistake: I was tempted to do that on a couple occasions.

And then we got in. While I buckled myself into the seat, I saw Janelle do the same, and our eyes met one another's once more.

Each of us was daring the other to make a move, to make it known what they wanted. Even after spending two weeks with her in the world of Pokémon, Janelle was an enigma, a mystery. I would have to decode whatever she was truly thinking.

And then I started the car, and we drove out of the restaurant's parking lot. With every foot we traveled closer to the exit, my chest felt just a little looser. It was as though a hand had been strangling my heart and was now gradually loosening its grip.

Much like just about every city in the United States, the metropolitan area was spread out across a broad section of land. We were still near the county seat when the office parks and fast food joints gave way to forests and fields. Late in the summer, the sky still darkened slowly, as though the sun were a small child incessantly refusing to go to bed.

Growing up, I'd always seen driving as a necessary evil. It was bad for the environment to be operating a car, not to mention unpleasant whenever you got stuck in traffic. But driving like this, being alone on a country road and putting the pedal to the metal - that's what dreams were made of, and I began to understand why the "Great American Road Trip" is so often romanticized in popular culture.

There was, oddly enough, something relaxing about going fast, at least when there weren't any other cars nearby. It meant leaving all your worries behind, staring out at the horizon, with nothing but the road, your hands, and the evening scenery to care about. It meant that nothing else mattered.

Now, it's true that this whole story is a solemn business. Zeraora was still in need of saving, after all, even if it wouldn't be by us. And interacting with this amount of levity felt immoral in light of those events. But for the time we'd be driving, we would almost be able to overlook all of that and enjoy each other's company.

I can't speak for Janelle; in fact, I'll never be able to. But every time I took my eyes off the wheel for even a split second, I saw that she looked so much younger than she had the last time I'd seen her. I mean, it's not like 17-year-olds age that quickly to begin with, but there had been age lines on her face that were now going away.

Even once the first raindrops began tapping on my car's windshield, I was still smiling, and so was Janelle. It was a calming sort of light rain, not a downpour; perhaps that's why, within the safety of the car, we could relax.

In such a rural area, there were no street lamps, no light pollution to take away from the stars above. That was one of the few things I liked about Forrest County, the fact that you could go from a medium-sized city to a place featuring brilliant stars without too much driving. In that respect, Southerners were lucky. How unfortunate that it had to be paired with Confederate flags.

Eventually, we pulled over so that I could turn on Google Maps. By now it was about 8:45 PM, so I figured it made sense to turn around. After all, I'd promised Janelle would be back at Morton's by 9:30, and that I'd be home by ten. I couldn't go back on that now.

Even after I'd set course for Morton's once more, I couldn't help but feel that there was a certain tension in the air. It was less an angry tension and more an awkward one.

"Well?" Janelle asked eventually. "Aren't you going to put the car into drive again?"

I frowned. "Why?"

"Because we shouldn't just block the road all night," she replied. "But I will say: It's been a wonderful evening with you, Lucas Teller."

It practically melted my heart to hear her say that. I smiled from ear to ear and turned to her with a wink.

"Okay, let's go" I said, perhaps a bit rudely.

In response, Janelle leaned over in my direction, puckering her lips. She was going in for the kiss!

Logically, I knew that there would probably be someone eventually who needed to pass us. It might be a few minutes, but at some point we would have to move. At some point, this evening would have to be over.

As though being pushed by an invisible hand (was it the hand of Arceus?), my head moved closer to hers, and I opened my mouth just wide enough. My depth perception wasn't the best, but the number of inches between our noses grew smaller and smaller…

…and then we went at it. We began snogging one another, right there on the side of the road. Had there been anyone watching, they'd probably think the scene was highly unexpected, but there was nobody here to see us kiss.

Somehow it all felt so natural, so right. Even amidst everything occurring in the outside world, we were able to have this one special moment together. That meant the world - two worlds - to me.

Our lips remained pressed against one another's for forty-five seconds at least, maybe even a minute or more. We only looked away once the pounding of the rain was amplified.

"Okay, I really think we should go," I told Janelle abruptly, having cut off the kiss. "The downpour's only going to get more intense, and I have a curfew to obey."

And less than a minute later, we were cruising down the rural highway, going at least seventy-five miles an hour (but not quite so fast that the tires lost contact with the pavement.) There were no speed traps in Forrest County, so we didn't run much risk of getting caught.

The rain intensified further, to the point that even the windshield wipers provided little relief. Suddenly, this drive wasn't so heavenly anymore.

"Lucas, slow down!" Janelle shouted, trying desperately to be heard over the roaring of the engine.

"I have to get home by ten!" I insisted. "Otherwise my parents are really going to let me have it!"

"Getting home after curfew is better than not getting home at all!" she exclaimed. "Please, Lucas, slow down! You're going to get us killed!"

I could hear the tires begin skidding along the road, and steering became more difficult. But I wasn't overly concerned yet; thank Arceus for four-wheel drive, as well as the fact that the road wasn't crowded at all.

Still, I heeded Janelle's wishes, if only because that's what a good boyfriend would do. Wait a minute - boyfriend?

No. I'm not her boyfriend. I'm just a random guy we had dinner with, and we decided to kiss for some reason.

It had been a full-throated kiss between two sets of lips, and it had been glorious. But I had to focus on the road. I'd just gotten my license back through a very painful trip to the DMV - I couldn't lose it again.

How ironic was it that in forging a more intimate relationship with Janelle, thereby seemingly turning my life around, I might end up destroying my life once again?

Not ending it, mind you. Destroying it. There's a difference.

So I let up on the gas just a little. Due to the nature of the road, as well as the sheer velocity at which we'd been traveling, it took some time to slow down, and there were many spots at which I thought we might roll over.

Keep the car under control, I kept instructing myself. Keep the car under control.

"Lucas! For the love of Arceus, just slow down!"

"But I am slowing down! It's just not showing that!"

"Look at the speedometer, Lucas, and tell me that we're decelerating. Because you're not exactly showing me that right now."

I chanced a quick glance at the speedometer, which said we were still going about eighty miles an hour, a good 15 MPH over the speed limit. (Of course, it's not like there was widespread enforcement, or even obedience, to traffic laws here, but better safe than sorry.)

"I don't know, Janelle!" I yelled. "Maybe the car won't lower its speed!"

"That's bullshit, Lucas, and you know it!"

As I slammed down hard on the brakes, I lamented the fact that things had turned around so quickly. Just when I'd thought Janelle and I might be good friends after all, just when the animosity was declining, my car wouldn't slow down. (On the bright side, we wouldn't have to keep bickering if we were both dead.)

"Say whatever you want, Lucas, just hit harder on the brakes!"

I did as I was told, but the vehicle's velocity did not change at all. And that's when I realized that the brakes were no longer working, which had two major implications.

First of all, I'd always been told that when it came to old cars that were becoming less functional, steering was the first thing to go. If the brakes were, well, breaking first, that was very much out of the ordinary.

Secondly, we were going to die.

Even when I'd been strung up above a cooking fire, I hadn't stared death in the face like this. I mean, I'd acknowledged that I might die, that we'd all die someday, but my reaction to that was more like "Aaaaaah!"

This time, as Janelle screamed bloody murder, drowning all rational thought, my life flashed before my eyes. That might be an overused statement, but this truly happened to me.

I saw my first day of kindergarten, playing with some other children whom I hadn't bothered to keep in contact with. I wondered: If I had continued to talk with them, would my life be different today?

I saw my shifts at the Forrest County food pantry, lifting boxes and setting them down in the shopping area. My supervisor was always so thoughtful, insisting that I was making a difference even if it didn't always feel that way.

I saw the first time my parents had bought me Pokémon cards, one of the few gifts I'd ever received from them. It had been quite a cause for celebration, and I'd spent many hours staring at each card one by one, wondering what it would be like if the creatures depicted on them existed.

Perhaps most painfully, I saw my first dinner with Janelle at Altomare's, during which that kid had screamed about Zeraora. Little did that young boy know just how correct he'd end up being - but as Bart Simpson once said, being right sucks.

At some point in the present day, I must have steered the car off the road. It wasn't by design; I hadn't meant to drive us right into a ditch. It just happened.

Janelle was still shrieking as the vehicle bounced off the side of the road. I, however, focused on the wheel with grim determination, gripping it with an iron fist. Perhaps they'd find my body here days later and be unable to pry my fingers from the leather. But that wouldn't be my problem if I were dead.

I don't want to die. But I guess I'm going out with a bang here. Literally so if the airbag gets triggered.

Seconds later, I blacked out.