Seth sipped the water bottle slowly, trying hard not to stare at Bike.  He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the kid.  On the one hand, circumstances and the tough nickname indicated he should be on his guard.  But his instincts and the kid's thoughtful demeanor somehow made him think otherwise.  Bike really wasn't all that scary.  Just a kid, a kid who liked Mountain Dew and goldfish, even if he didn't like comic books or skateboarding.  He was still a kid.

            He closed the water and set it in the drink holder beside Bike's half-empty Mountain Dew.  Less than an hour had passed since he'd noticed him walking along the highway, and already he liked him better than most of the kids from Newport.  He wondered what Bike and Anna would think of each other, then realized it was a moot point.

            A guy like Bike could really shake things up in a place like Newport.  Seth grinned as he toyed with the idea.  Everybody was so full of themselves, so far removed from reality.  His smile disappeared.  This was reality. 

            Bike had to be running away from something.  Even Seth could see that.  But from what?  Trouble?  Bad home?  He didn't seem all that awful.  He also didn't seem all that likely to offer up his life history.  Which was fine. 

            Though Seth really did want to know.

            His eyes flicked across the dials behind his wheel, then landed again on the gas tank.  Crap.  Time for a refill.

            He heard a small snore beside him and immediately grinned.  So he wasn't the only one being caught off his guard.  Then his grin faded as he considered the why factor of Bike's willingness to sleep in a strange car.  It didn't bode well for the guy.

            Seth could never do it.  As much as he adored Kerouac, he wanted to see America from his own car, boat, bike, whatever.  He didn't think he could accept a ride with strangers.

            But maybe Bike had thought that once, too.  And he was doing okay now.  And they weren't strangers anymore.  Not so much.

            Bike stirred slightly on the seat beside him.

            Seth ventured a quiet, "Hey."
            Bike rolled in his direction and opened his eyes.

            "I'm stopping for gas, you need anything?"
            "Could use a restroom," Bike grumbled.

"Food, anything?"  Seth leaned gently on the accelerator, trumping the cruise control.
            Bike glanced at the cooler.  "No, I'm good.  Thanks."
            "We could grab dinner.  I'm not in a rush."  Seth was about to offer to pay, then realized that was probably a bad idea, and kept his mouth shut.  Better to wait until they were actually smelling the food.  Make it harder to refuse.

"Me, neither.  Thought you were excited about this comic thing."  Bike's eyes were almost accusatory.  Like he could see right through Seth.  Intense, penetrating.

"I am!" Seth protested, feeling defensive all of a sudden.  "It's just… I go every year, you know?  And somehow, going alone, without my dad…"
            "What about your friends?  None of them wanted to come?"
            "Well, I mean…"  Seth lifted his fingers to his mouth as he searched for the words.  "The only person who'd really go with me, my friend Anna, she's on a sailing trip.  I mean, she'd love this."
            "So you wish she was here," Bike offered.

            "Yeah.  Guess so."
            The corner of his mouth turned up a little.  "You guys been friends for a long time?"
            "Not really.  She… she kinda just moved here."
            "How long have you been here?"
            "In Newport?"
            Bike thumped his head back on the seat.  "Shit.  No way.  You're from Newport?  Shoulda figured."

            "Um, gee, thanks?" Seth asked, doing a double-take.  "Ten years Newport.  I was born in Berkeley, though.  You?"
            "Chino, by way of Fresno."
            Seth raised his eyebrows.  "Really?  Chino, my dad works in Chino.  How is it?"
            "Well, you'll notice that I'm not there now."
            Seth laughed.  "Right.  And I'm not in Newport now, and you know what?  If my parents weren't there?  I wouldn't be going back."  His face had already darkened.  "I can't stand Newport."
            "It's that bad?"
            "Oh, hell, yeah," Seth said without thinking.

            "You don't have any friends?"
            "I have friends," Seth said defensively.  He stiffened in his seat.  "I'm not a total loser."
            "No, I mean-"
            "It's okay-"

            "I didn't mean that, I meant… I mean I can imagine.  You're probably way too cool for those Newport freaks, right?"
            Seth snorted as he swung the car off onto the exit ramp.  "Yeah.  Uh huh."
            "What?  No, I'm serious," Bike said, apparently confused.  He straightened up in his seat, bringing the jackets down into his lap.  "It's their loss."
            "Thanks," Seth said dryly.

            "No, I mean it," he insisted again.  "Look, I wish I had more friends like you.  My friends?  They're useless.  They couldn't help me out when I needed it, let alone pick up a total stranger.  That takes guts, man."  He suddenly stopped and stared down at his hands, as though he wished he hadn't just said something.

            Seth wasn't quite sure what to say.  "Um, how's this place look?"

            "Works for me."
            He pulled the Rover over at the gas station and hopped out, busying himself with pumping the gas.  Bike hopped out as well, taking off across the parking lot for the bathroom.  Seth grimaced at the thought.  Fortunately he'd made a pit stop only a couple of hours before and didn't need to face this one.  Didn't look too pleasant, but better than the alternatives down the road.  These little highway exits could be a nightmare.

            Seth looked back at Bike, suddenly surprised to realize that he was carrying his whole bookbag with him.  What the hell did a guy need a bookbag in the bathroom for?  He wrinkled his forehead as he watched him disappear into the store.  He didn't really think Seth would touch it, did he?

Bike re-emerged a couple of minutes later, loping across the parking lot.  He reached for something in his pocket, then stopped, pulling his hand back. 

            "Are you okay, dude?"  Seth asked.  "You look kinda... are you hurt?"
            "I'm fine," Bike said dismissively.  "Just got a bad knee is all."  He leaned against the passenger door, stretching, rubbing the bad knee as Seth watched the price of his gas climb.

            "Look," Seth said carefully over the car, staring at Bike on the other side.  "I got enough time to drive you to Austin.  If you want."
            "Naw, it's fine.  You got your comic… thing."
            "I don't care," Seth said, and Bike popped around to the front of the car all of a sudden, looking concerned.  "I mean it.  I don't want to go all of a sudden."
            "I'll be fine.  Chill out."
            "I'd rather drive you."
            Bike looked tense all of a sudden.  "I said I'd rather you didn't."
            Seth heard the pump click off.  He didn't move.  "Why not?"
            "Because… does it matter?"
            "Yes.  It does."
            Bike sighed and looked away.  "I don't want to owe anybody anything, okay?  I don't take favors."
            "Why n-?"

            "Because then you expect something in return."
            Seth stared at him.  "I don't expect anything."
            "Oh, yeah?"
            "Just a friend."

            Bike snorted, still staring off a long ways into the distance.  "You think I'm gonna believe that."
            "No.  Not really.  But it's true."
            Bike looked back at him for a long moment.  Their eyes locked, and for a second, Seth thought he'd won, maybe he'd bought it.

            "I don't trust anybody."
            Seth removed the pump from the car and hung it back in the cradle.  "That's sad, dude," he said carefully to the pump.

            "Maybe.  But it's just the way the world is.  You know?"
            "No, I don't."  Seth turned back to him.  "I trust you."
            Bike snorted.  "No, you don't."
            Seth didn't blink.  "Want to bet?" he asked without missing a beat.

            Bike wrinkled his nose.  "So we're gambling now?"
            Exasperated, Seth opened the driver's side door to produce his wallet.  He dug through, pulled out a twenty for the gas, then slammed the door.  "Here."  He hurled the wallet at Bike, who fumbled the catch in surprise.  He dropped down, his fingers tightened close around the wallet, and he straightened back up to stare at Seth in surprise.

            "Here," Seth said again, holding up both fingers for emphasis.  "I am going in there, and I'm coming back out, and I trust that you and that will still be here."
            Bike stared in amazement.  He glanced from Seth to the Range Rover to the wallet, and back again.

            "If I'm not?"
            Seth clenched his jaw.  "Then I guess you'll prove me wrong."
            He turned on his heel and marched towards the convenience store, his face still firmly set.  He didn't dare turn around.  Part of him was angry at Bike for doubting him, and part of him was angry at himself for doing such a stupid thing like leaving his wallet with a street kid, hitchhiker, stranger, whatever he was, full of cash and all his cards.  And part was angry at himself for doubting Bike like that.  But he couldn't help it – he just wasn't sure.  As much as he wanted to be.

            He forked the twenty over to the fat lady behind the counter, accepted his change, and took a deep breath as he started back out for the car.  The car was still there.  He breathed a sigh of relief.

            And Bike was still there.

            Seth moved around the side of the car, and suddenly felt very confused.  Bike was standing there, staring at Seth's open wallet, a big uncharacteristic grin on his face.

            "…What's so funny?"
            Bike had started to laugh a little, low convulsions.  He held up the pictures that had tumbled out of wallet in their clear plastic covering.  He was pointing to the holiday card picture from three years ago, Seth in braces with his mom and dad.

            "This," Bike managed to get out as Seth stared at him, perplexed.  "This is your dad?"
            "Yeah.  Why?" Seth asked defensively.

            Bike only laughed harder, leaning against the Range Rover for support.

            "What's so funny?  I mean, yeah, okay, the eyebrows, but-"

            "No, no.  You don't get it," he said.  "Your dad.  The lawyer."
            Seth folded his arms.  "Dude.  I have heard every lawyer joke in the book, you couldn't offend me if you tried."
            Bike shook his head and held up a hand to quiet him.  As Seth waited patiently, he dug in his pocket, producing several empty gum wrappers, a cigarette lighter, a Swiss Army knife, two safety pins, and finally, a small, beaten business card.  He offered the card out along with the wallet, which Seth hesitantly accepted. 

            He looked at the card in confusion.  He knew the card.  He knew the handwriting.  He knew the phone number scribbled on it.  He didn't know why it had come from Bike's pocket and not his own.  "Where did you get this?  Why do you have my dad's cell number?"
            "He's my lawyer," Bike said.  He'd finally stopped laughing.

            "He's your what?"
            Bike shrugged.  "Had a case a few weeks back, he was my public defender. Swear to god.  Sandy, right?  Sandy Cohen?"
            Seth nodded.  "You're serious?"

            "I couldn't make this shit up if I tried."
            It took a moment to sink in.  It was a weird coincidence.  It was fate.  It totally made sense.  After a moment, Seth grinned at him, and Bike eyed him back.  "So that settles it.  It's a sign."

            "Of what?"  Bike's eyes narrowed automatically.

            "That we're sticking together.  I'll drive you to Austin."
            "But I said-"

            "You didn't run off with my money."
            "Maybe I was gonna," Bike shot back defensively.

            "And you didn't.  So it's settled."  Seth's grin slowly relaxed.  "Look.  Friends, real friends, they help each other for no good reason, and right now?  I'd much rather have a friend then go to some stupid comic book convention alone."

            Bike was confused.  "But you already paid for it, right?"

            Seth snapped his fingers.  "I got it.  It's late.  We'll check into the hotel for tonight, pick up in the morning, get you the rest of the way to Austin."
            "I said I don't wanna-"

            "So, what, you just gonna walk the rest of the way to Texas?"  Seth's words overpowered Bike's, and the two of them stood there, staring at each other in the flickering flourescent lighting off the gas station.

            "No," Bike finally said, feebly.

            "Now we're talkin'," Seth said.

            He opened the driver's side door, and nodded to Bike, who made his way around to the passenger seat.  He climbed in as Seth started up the car, and within moments, the Range Rover was off again.