Summary:

Typical Drake & Josh storyline. Drake and Josh plan to go to a concert where a famous singer will be, but get sidetracked when a mysterious box addressed to Walter shows up and Meghan's pranks take over. Drake also must deal with an annoying girl (who says everything with a "w") from his class, that also shows signs she has a crush on him. When he & Josh go to the concert, something terrible happens.

Disclaimer:

I don't own the Drake and Josh show or anything about it/in it. I wish I did though, but unless I become a rock star overnight and sell a bazillion albums for 20 bucks a piece, I won't ever be able to own it. –sniffles-- Life is so sad.

Note to Readers:

Okie-dokie… you want a longer chapter, you got it now! I looove this chapter! It's funny and yet dramatic at the end. I'm very please with the outcome of it and hope you like it too. It's supposed to be suspenseful so hopefully you'll feel the "dramatic tension". LOL, thank you for the reviews, guys! Review some more and I'll love you forever! REALLY. –puppy eyes— Pweaaase?

Story: "Party in a Box"

Chapter: "A Guitar is a Teenager's Best Friend"; Six

Written By: Ginger

Extras:
Italics in "quotation marks" symbolize thoughts of Drake's.

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Anita spoke softly to someone in the hall and whispered in a quick: "Stay right here. I'll call out for you in a little while." before stepping into Drake's hospital room. Drake was alone and his eyes were closed tightly in a deep slumber. Nita felt a rush as she saw him up-close for the first time in nearly a whole year. She had of course seen him every now and then in the hall at school, but for some odd reason, she had always avoided him.

As she walked over to the bedside on her very lightest tip-toe and stared at him for a second, she wondered why she had ever disliked him even a little tiny bit.

She sat by the bed in the chair, just looking at him as he slept. His light amber-brown hair was tousled across his moist brow and his fingers were curled into a loose fist, which tightened and loosened sporadically, showing the waves of pain in his middle were felt, even in his dreams. As she watched his face, she unknowingly reached out to touch a strand of matted hair and moved it from his eyes. Suddenly he moved beneath her hand, causing her to quickly pull it away as he opened his eyes slowly.

It took him a moment or two to figure out everything and when he saw Anita, his eyes lit up in instant recognition. "…Nita!" he grinned, reaching out his shaky, slightly weak arms to her. "Oh! Can… can I hug you? I—mean, won't it hurt?" she said, stopping herself before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Aww, what the heck! What's a little more pain for a hug? Not like I'd even notice just a little bit more, anyhow." He said, grabbing her gently with a chuckle.

She pulled back after a few seconds and said, with a slight flush in her cheeks: "It's so good to see you again! Even if it is in this terrible hospital." "Me too!" he smiled, "Why didn't you tell me you were coming to see me?" "Oh! Well… actually, I've got a surprise for you." She smiled back, standing up. "What is it?" Drake asked with some skeptically in his voice. "Nothing scary—really…" she laughed, "But you might scream anyhow… if you can talk." Drake gasped and held his breath, anticipating something terrible and scarily surprising. "Close your eyes, Drake." Anita said, with excitement in her teenage voice. "Well, alright…" he murmured, obeying reluctantly. "Okay—" Anita called loudly, opening the room's door: "We're ready for you to come in, out there!" A sound of heels shuffling on the cold, uncovered composite tile flooring was the only thing the teenage boy heard for a long moment. "Drake… ready?" the girl's voice asked. "Yes!" he answered without hesitation, wondering what all of the mystery was about. "Okay. Open your eyes." The sweet voice of Anita rang in his ears from across the tiny-ish room. Drake's eyelids blinked open in bleak curiosity and wonder as he finally figured out the sight that beheld him and it registered in his blurry, slightly foggy mind.

"Oh—my—gosh!" he managed to gasp in an unbelieving voice as he recognized the other figure of a person at the foot of his bed. "Nita! How did you—you—you brought me—Kathy McGin!" "Drake Parker, I'm guessing?" the woman beside Anita asked with a sweet smile as she moved to the side of Drake's hospital bed, taking his hand. "Ye—yeah—or—yes, m'am!" Drake stuttered, at a loss for words. "I heard you got into a bad little accident and missed seeing me. I had to come see you after your friend here, caught me backstage and told me what a big fan you are. She also let me hear a cd you burned of your band—you guys are amazing!" Drake looked as if his eyes were going to pop out his head: "Yeah! …Thanks for coming, Miss McGin! I'm—I can't believe you're here!" "Well, it was hard to get her here!" said Josh, stepping into the room. "Josh! …What? You had something to do with this!" Drake asked, thoroughly confused and shaky. "Of course he did! He helped Anita convince me to come! He talked with me over the phone when she came back stage." explained Kathy. "W—woah, this just… wow." Drake said, shaking his head and closing his eyes for an instant. "Oh, Miss McGin, I hope you wouldn't mind signing this," Josh grinned, holding up Drake's cherry-red electric guitar: "Because unless you do before you leave, afterwards my brother's probably try to commit suicide." "Well, we certainly wouldn't want that to happen!" Kathy laughed, reaching for the guitar. "Do you want to sign it, Drake?" she asked him. "Y—eah! Absolutely! If you would!" he panted, barely able to breathe, much less get his words out the way that he wanted them to come out. The rock star took a permanent black marker from Josh's hand.

"How about if I sign it like this: "Heal up for my next concert incase you have to be my guitarist—Kathy McGin"?" she asked. "That—that's—" Josh interrupted his awe-struck brother: "That's just fine. Pardon his speech impediment; he's always done that when he sees anything related to you." Drake moaned a quick, embarrassed and annoyed: "—Jooosh!" but turned back quickly, to watch the star's hand move up and down with the pen as she wrote his message and name in neat handwriting.

Kathy finished signing the teenager's guitar and she handed it to him, as if to award him a gift. "Gosh… thank you so so much!" Drake managed to speak. "You're welcome, Drake." she smiled. "Annnnd--" Josh smiled: "Now its picture time!" Drake had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes and sighing deeply at his brother, but somehow he managed to. It was probably the thought that his brother had done this out of the kindness of his heart, even after Drake had been snippy earlier. "Josh, I look TERRIBLE! For goodness sakes, I'm in the hospital!" Drake exclaimed, causing Kathy to laugh: "No you don't, Drake!" Drake quieted as Josh said in defense of his idea: "Well you're not happy if I DO take a picture and if I didn't and Miss McGin, here, left, you'd kill me as soon as you got out of that bed!" Anita laughed at the comical row the two brothers where having. It was common for the two to do this, but they both understood that it was just a joke and that neither meant anything by it.

"Well, Josh, whip out your Kodak disposable 'cause I'm ready to pose!" Kathy joked, leaning in close to Drake and putting her arm around him. Drake couldn't even think about the fact that his rock idol was maybe three inches from him, without feeling a shudder of unbelief fly through his body. "CHEEEEESE!" Josh exclaimed, holding the camera up to take the picture. Drake control his lips enough to form them into a dazed smile as the flash on the camera blinked and made the whole scene of the hospital room fade away into a white fuzz for a moment. Drake turned back to Kathy and gave her a big grin: "This like the best day ever." "You're right." she winked, patting his back carefully and standing to her full 5' 7" beside the bed.

"Unfortunately, I have to hurry and catch a plane to LA for a concert, but wish I didn't have to leave." the star said, giving her fan an ample grin and handing the sharpie marker back to Josh. "Aww…" Drake said, only half-hearing what was going on. "Hey, don't worry. I bet someday I'll see you on stage too, Drake." she nodded, leaning over and giving his cheek a light, cordial kiss.

To Drake, the atmosphere faded out into a fog at that point to such an extent that he hardly even noticed her and his family's departure moments later. "Drake?" a voice cut through the mist: "Hellooooo? Anybody home?" "Huh?" he muttered, snapping back from his daze. "Drake? Are you okay?" Anita asked, looking at him from the chair beside the bed. "Yeah… just… freaked. I'm fine." he smiled. "In much pain?" "Um, no, actually… I think I'm too shocked for anything to hurt. It's kind of nice." he chuckled, distantly. "Really?" she replied, pausing for a second. "Uh huh."

"Well then…" Anita leaned in from the chair and before a second had passed; her ruby lips brushed his cheek with a warm, butterfly soft touch. "Maybe you won't have to worry about pain for a while." she said seriously, standing up and smiling strangely before stepping from the room and closing the door behind her.

Drake's mouth was open slightly in astonishment. His fingers deftly ran over the spot on his cheek that seemed to burn and sting, as he once again tried to find his way from the dense fog that seemed even denser now. Never before had they had any type of psychical contact at all-- even during the period they had dated. Drake had been kissed before by a girl like this-- even on the lips, but it never affected him anything like this ever before. It was strange to him. A completely new feeling… a good feeling. A right feeling, deep in the middle of his chest. As he settled back into his soft white pillows and touched the place on the side of his face once more, he shook his head at himself and sighed. Speaking in a quiet, abhorring voice at himself, just above a whisper: "Oh no… what have you gotten yourself into now? The higher you get, the harder it's going to hurt when you slip and fall, Drake Parker."

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It seemed forever before Josh came back into the room. Really it had only been about an hour and a few minutes, but when you're stuck with nothing to do but think, it seems much longer. Drake looked up as his stepbrother entered through the door. "So did ya' like her?" he chuckled. "Did I! Of course I did! How couldn't I?" Drake smiled: "It's been so long since I've seen her face-to-face that I almost didn't recognize her!" "No, dope! I mean Kathy, not Anita." Josh exclaimed, rolling his eyes. "OH! Well, yeah! Of course I did like her too!" Drake replied, slightly embarrassed: "…But why'd you do that? I thought you were… mad at me." "Mad? Heck no! We're brothers—remember?" Josh winked. "You're awesome." Drake said, shaking his head happily: "And this day is awesome!" "Dude, it's nothing near awesome! You've got two broken ribs!" "Eeh, yeah, other than that—it's been unbelievable. I met Kathy McGin, I saw Anita after all, I got a picture with Kathy, an autograph on my guitar and even a—well, anyway, it's been weirdly great." he replied back with a tiny chuckle.

"Oh! I forgot—" Josh began, handing Drake a thick envelope: "I got the pictures back." "Already!" his brother said in a confused voice. "Yeah, I gave the guy at Eckerd's ten extra bucks to get them done within the hour." Josh laughed. "Well what did you do in the meantime?" "…Looked at an Oprah magazine and bought candy." Josh answered. Drake rolled his eyes and shook his head before opening the sealed picture envelope.

As he pulled out the first one, he held it close to his face and peered at it for only a few mere seconds before gasping: "Josh, I TOLD YOU I'd look terrible! Look at that!" Josh rolled his eyes and sighed, taking the picture and looking down at it: "Dude, you look fi—" "And look at this one!" Drake exclaimed in a despising tone as he fairly threw another picture at his brother. "What's wrong with it!" Josh cried, with one brow up. "My hair! I mean, just look at it! It's—it's—" "It's perfectly fine!" "No it's not! What ever possessed you to think that was fine!" Drake argued, shuddering at the picture. "I'll tell ya' what possessed me—common sense! Ya' should try it sometime!" Josh replied. "But my HAIR—" "Drake, it's about the soul, not the hair." Josh said in all seriousness. Suddenly Drake began to giggle. "What now?" his brother asked him, curiously. "What you said…" Drake managed to answer through his laughter. Josh narrowed his eyes and slumped forward a bit in the chair: "Hey, atleast I took any pictures!" "Okay, okay! I'm sorry." Drake said, trying to stop laughing. Josh finally let out one little laugh and patted his brother's arm as he stood up: "Enjoy the pictures, bro. See ya' later. Get feelin' better, too." Drake smiled at Josh as he disappeared and the door closed.

"Maybe this day will be okay after all. As long as Josh doesn't ask about that guy he hit in the car, again… because I can't tell him about that. If I did, he'd either not believe me or get the police involved, and I don't want to even have to deal with it. Anita would hate me if she found out. Anita can't hate me ever… she has to love me. If she doesn't I don't know what will happen. I don't want anyone else." he sighed aloud. "Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't it all just fall into place by itself?" That was the problem. Complication. Drake shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to escape from the cluttered depression in his mind. "Somehow. Somehow it'll fix itself."

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Drake felt horrible. Not really that much psychically, just mentally. The hospital was so utterly boring. What else was there to do except to stare into space and try and figure out his complex problems? It seemed as if he had done everything else that there was. After all, today he had been there exactly a week and 3 days. He missed the computer and the tv, but of all the things he missed, he missed his guitar so bad he could scream. Of course, since Josh had brought it for Kathy to sign, it still sat lost in the tiny, dark corner of the room.

Drake got up carefully from the bed with a few "umphs", and he walked softly and a bit shakily over to the cherry-red treasure. He fingered the autograph of his all-time favorite rock singer and sighed. He could almost hear it calling to him for him to play it. As he slowly bent to pick it up and put it on the bed, he groaned when he turned a way that, he figured from the distinct pain in his middle, he was not supposed to turn. Recovering from the momentary sting, he sat on the bed beside the guitar and ran his fingers over the tight strings. He couldn't help but let out a little whine and childish cry as it barely made any noise. He threw himself back into the pillows on the bed and instantly let out a quick moan: "Oww…"

The door of the hospital room opened and Josh walked in, leisurely. "Hey, bro—I just came to see if you wanted me to—" "Josh!" Drake interrupted his brother as he walked up beside the bed: "Josh, get me some amps!" he finished in an exclamation, grabbing his brother's collar with a wild look in his eyes. "…Lamps!" Josh asked. "AMPLIFIERS, ya' numb-scull! I have to have them! I must play this guitar!" "Drake, are you nuts? I can't just waltz right in here with some amplifiers and—" "AMPLIFIERS, JOSH!" Drake screamed, pointing to the lifeless guitar laying on the bed, with a nearly hysterical crack in his voice. Josh's eyes looked quickly from side to side as he back a few steps away and said: "Um, yeah, I'm just… gonn'a go hire a… psychotherapist!" he quickly turned on his heel and ran from the room.

"Ugh! What is so unreasonable about hating this boring place and wanting something to do! All it is here is a mess of women having babies and old people getting knee-replacements! I wish SOMEBODY would understand enough to help me."

Suddenly Drake gasped and painfully turned to pick up the hospital phone. Dialing a number, he waited as a girl answered: "Hello?" "YES!" he congratulated himself on his luck, aloud: "Listen, this is Drake. I need you to get me something up here "your style" and pronto. Got me?" Drake asked in a low voice. "Sure. What illegal thing do you want?" the girl replied. "Not exactly illegal… I don't think?" Drake's eyebrow raised as his mind pondered the question. "…Hellooooo?"

"Oh! Sorry. I was just thinking. Here's what I want—but whatever you do, don't let Josh see it or find out about it, okay?" "I'm on it."

Considerable minutes later, Meghan appeared in the doorway of the hall to Drake's room. Under her arm, she carried a huge suitcase, securely locked. "Woah, Megs!" Josh suddenly appeared, stopping her. "What d'ya want, boob?" she scoffed. "What is in that suitcase?" "None of your business!" she remarked with a roll of the eyes as she passed him. "Waaait!" he exclaimed, grabbing her shoulder. "Get—off—of—me!" she muttered in a frighteningly low voice. "What! I just wann'a know what's in the stupid—" Meghan interrupted her step-brother with a shout: "If you value any part of your pathetic little life, shut up, Josh!" "…Okay!" he said with a frightened smile, letting her go on her way and into Drake's room.

"I'm here." She said, entering her brother's room. "Well, finally!" he exclaimed, sitting up in the bed. She narrowed her eyes and raised a fist as she set down the heavy suitcase, as a warning. "Okay, okay! Sorry!" he pleaded. "Good boy." she approved, unlocking the case as he made his way from the bed and on to his feet: "So did Josh give you any trouble?" he asked. "Yeah… but he's not gonn'a be bothering me anymore." She said with a mischievous grin. "He's… still breathing, right?" Drake said, pausing and raising a slightly concerned eyebrow. "Duh." she said, rolling her eyes once more. "Here—I brought it all." she continued, waving a hand toward the parcels. "Wow, awesome! Thanks! …I can't believe you're actually helping me!" he said, chuckling and shrugging. "Yeah, don't get used to it, boob." She replied, shoving a wad of heavy power-cords at his middle, making his let out an "oomph", and starting out the door, closing it behind her.

He took no time at all to quickly bend to the floor and plug in the ends of a few cords, but he wished he hadn't bent so far down as the hurt rushed to his middle instantly after standing back up straight. He shook it off and with an excited squeal, he rushed over to the bed as fast as he could without hurting himself further.

Josh and his parents and walked up the stairs and down a long, twisted hallway to where Drake's room was. They had all decided to go and see him together (except for Meghan, who at the moment could have cared less), and give him some company. After all, he must get lonely in that little blank room, all by himself.

"You know Josh, I bet he's just longing to get out of here. He's probably going to try to act up soon. I know when I was in the hospital when I had Meghan and I had to stay just three days, I almost lost it." Audrey observed. "Aww, no, mom! Drake is really doing fine. He hasn't had even a little hint of evil in—" Josh's reassuring reply was suddenly cut short by an ear-drum-popping sound.

Josh and his parents stopped dead in their tracks, grabbing their ears and their eyes growing big with recognition of the loud sounds.

Walter and Audrey instantaneously ran the few steps to the door of their son's hospital room, ripping open the door, making the huge noise even louder. "Drake!" screamed Audrey. He stood in the middle of the floor, jamming on his guitar, not hearing a word through the loud music. "Drake!" gasped Josh, running in behind his parents. "Drake Parker!" yelled Audrey again. Still her son heard nothing. Finally walking over to the amplifiers and grabbing a cord, Josh ripped it out of the wall and screeched: "DRAKE!"

The teenager's heard snapped up and his eyes got big: "…Hi, Mom—Dad! …Josh. So, what do you… want?" "WELL—" Walter stopped himself from screaming out loud: "Well, I might kind of like to know why you're BLASTING A GUITAR IN THE MIDDLE OF A HOSPITAL?" "I was… it was… why! Did I miss a note?" Drake looked disturbed. Josh walked up to Drake, and stared at him: "What is you problem?" "My what--?" Drake was interrupted by his mother as she quickly walked to him and took the guitar from his hands: "You're in a hospital, Drake! That was probably terrible for the people recovering here! And anyway, you're not even supposed to be walking around any time you please!" "And what's more," Walter added: "How did you get those amps up here!" "…Yeaaaaah!" Josh exclaimed, crossing his arms and looking at Drake with sarcastically narrowed eyes: "I wonder how."

"…Well, Meghan—" Drake had only begun to speak when his mother and father rolled their eyes simultaneously. "Oh so now you're going to try to blame this on your poor little innocent sister?" "Actually, Mom, she did kind of—" Josh was also interrupted by his father: "that's enough from you, too. Drake, you sit on the bed and wait for the psychical therapist to get here. Josh, you go ahead and go to the game room or something." "But I don't wann'a play any games, Da—" "GAME ROOM!" "Yes, sir!" Josh yelped, running from the room as Drake sat obediently on the bed.

"Look, I'm taking this back home with me." Audrey exclaimed, referring to the priceless red guitar. "No!" gasped Drake in a comical emotional voice: "Don't take my baby!" His parents rolled their eyes once again and Audrey stepped into the hall as Walter followed her, turning momentarily back just to say: "No more crazy feats. Sit right there until the P.T. comes, Mr. Parker." before leaving him alone. Drake sighed toward the closed door, brushing a soft brown strand of his hair from his eyes and muttering: "…Stupid hospital."

Within a matter of minutes, the P.T. was there and Drake was walking out with him into the hall. Drake hated psychical therapy. "It's pointless!" he thought: "I can already walk by myself! There's not even really a point in making me stay in this crazy hospital! I could go home today and be absolutely fine!" His thoughts where interrupted by a elderly voice beside him: "Excuse, me." Drake jumped slightly and looked over at two older women standing in the hall beside him and the P.T. "May I… help you?" he asked, looking at the deep frown in her face. "Yes. Where you the one blasting that guitar a minute ago?" she replied, patting the cane in her hand. "…Ummm… yes m'am. I'm sorry it disturbed you!" he answered, backing away a step or two. "Oh, well… that's alright. But I've got a serious question for you." the other old woman replied. "Mmm?" he winced, waiting for her to scold him and possibly whelp him with the large cane. "Maybe if she starts beating me the P.T. will stop her…" "Can I please have you're autograph?" she asked, holding out a pen and paper. "…Uh, yeah! Okay …Sure." he answered the strange request, slowly taking the pen and paper and signing his name. After he handed it back to her, they grinned and sped off without a word to him, giggling wirily between each other.

Drake raised one brow and shook his head with a slightly surprised chuckle, turning to the P.T. "Let's go and get this stupid walking over with."

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Drake had returned to the room with the therapist and when she had left him alone, he tried to lay down and go to sleep. But sleep wasn't coming on easy at all. He tossed carefully on the bed, looking over at where his only release—his guitar, had once stood. He moaned impatiently and turned back over in the bed. When was this tormenting boredom going to ever end? He saw that there was absolutely no applicable reason that they should be keeping him there. He was well! He wasn't sick anymore! It had been a whole week and a half! A week and a half of monotony! Oh, sure, the first two days hadn't been so bad. He got cards from Anita and he had still been dazed over meeting his idol, Kathy. Not to mention the pain had kept him somewhat pre-occupied. But now there was NOTHING. Not even his precious signed guitar to look at, much less even think of playing. Not even tv. He had tried spending his time with that long, long ago, but soon had come to find out that the hospital only carried local channels that reeked with either news, dog shows, or Oprah—all of which he was decidedly un-fond of.

Suddenly the immortally brilliant thought struck him: "I have to get out of here!" Yes! It would all be fine then! All he was doing was lying up in a bed! He could do that at home, for goodness sakes! Home—where the food didn't taste like rubbery cardboard and where the tv had more than 12 channels! Even the word sounded delicious now. He was so engulfed in his luscious thoughts that he barely even felt the slight ache as he rose from the bed to dress in his jeans and a tee-shirt. It hurt to dress in these clothes but what the heck? It didn't matter so much now! He was going HOME!

He had managed somehow to slip on his shoes and tie them before grabbing the handle of the door and opening it slowly. It might be hard to sneak out of this rat hole but it was definitely more than worth it. He made his was down the numerous halls as stealthily and quickly as he could possibly go, and didn't even feel safe when he reached the thankfully empty elevator. The time seemed to inch along as if an eternity had passed before the elevator reached the ground floor of the hospital. He cautiously opened the doors and paused to look out before alighting from it on to the solid floor of the hospital lobby.

He was half way across the lobby before he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of Walter's voice. "Oh no." He spotted and darted quickly from view, finding a hiding space behind some large plants and ferns in pots near the exit doors of the hospital. From his safe hiding spot, he watched his step-dad walk across the lobby with Josh beside him, toward the elevator on the opposite side of the room, with their backs to him. Now was his only chance. He knew that if they wanted to, they could have easily turned and seen him, but he'd have to take that chance. He ran out from behind the foliage and out the automatic doors so fast, he almost smashed into the glass of them.

He ran as fast as his weak legs could carry him to his car. Since Josh had totaled his car, he had used Drake's to get to and from the hospital in. Drake grabbed the extra key that he had swiped from his step-brother earlier, from his pocket and opened the car door, slipping painfully inside. He locked it behind him and quickly started the engine. It was at the speed of light that he zoomed from the parking lot of that dreaded place and toward his home where he longed so bad to be in.

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Josh had gone with his dad upstairs to Drake's room but when he opened the door, he found Drake no where to be seen. "He's with the P.T." he reasoned to his father, trying to quiet his own silent fear deep in his heart. But after about ten minutes of tracking the man down, they discovered that Drake was in fact not with him. Suddenly Josh's cellphone began to ring. Ignoring the ringtone, unlike as he usually liked to listen to it, he instantly flipped it open and pressed talk.

"Josh—" a weakened voice came into his ear from the thin cell phone.

"Drake? Oh my gosh, Drake, where are you?" Josh gasped, feeling something crumbling inside and figuring out that it must have been his hope.

"I'm in my car driving home… but… oh my gosh, Josh I think I'm going to black out." the wearily frightened tone spoke from the speaker.

"Oh no, Drake—listen, pull over right now!"

"But, Josh—"

"Pull over, Drake! I swear if you don't I'll kill myself! Pull over!" Josh exclaimed, feeling a lump form in his throat.

"…Okay." The whispering voice spoke. Then with a distinct and sudden click, the phone cut off.