While walking their way to the nearest diner from the hospital, the mid-May sweltering Arizona sun beat down Luke and Leia's backs. By the time they reached the restaurant, they were exhausted and drenched in sweat.
The waitress, a portly woman in her mid-fifties, told them they could seat themselves wherever they wanted in the nearly-empty diner. Leia opted for a corner booth, right next to the window, and clear across the room from the old men that were sipping coffee, occasionally sneaking glances at the two teenagers. Leia fended them off by glaring over her menu at them, as their waitress rattled off the specials.
"I already know what I'm ordering, actually," Leia interrupted. "Cheeseburger plate with a chocolate malt, please."
Luke glanced up at his sister above his menu before closing it. "The same will be fine for me, thanks."
As the waitress sauntered back into the kitchen with their order, Luke found himself nervously rolling the sleeves down on his plaid button-down shirt to cover the bandages on his wrists. Every time the waitress had spoken to him, he could feel her gaze drifting to the puffy, pristine white gauze wound tightly on his arms. She gazed at him with a look of pity that could only ask, "What's wrong with you?" He couldn't help but feel self-conscious. He turned his head up to look at Leia, who looked perturbed.
"You don't need to hide that," she stated, taking a sip of water. "No one is judging you for what happened."
"I just don't want everyone to know. I feel awful for what I did."
The words stung as soon as he said them. He remembered what he had told Dr. Kenobi about wanting to still live at home because he didn't want to leave Leia behind. That's exactly what he would have done if his suicide attempt had been... well, more than an attempt. He knew that Leia was definitely strong enough to fend for herself in the world, but with the strong connection as twins, he would never want her to. They argued, they complained, and they occasionally fought, but at the end of the day, they protected one another.
"Listen to me," she said in the tone that always meant she meant business. "I love you, okay? And you have no reason to feel bad about what happened. The past is the past, and if you can't take it back, you can't worry about it. You're still here. Forgive yourself."
A knot started to develop in Luke's throat. He eyed Leia as she stared out the window, past the diner's dilapidated neon sign, onward to the highway where people were leaving that godforsaken town, going a mile a minute. Their food arrived, snapping the both of them back to reality, and they both tacitly decided to dig into their meals.
Not much was said between the two siblings as they dined, until Leia was down to the last few French fries on her plate, and Luke had already finished.
"So, if we're going to do this road trip thing, we'll need a plan," Leia began, munching on a fry. "Han says he'll be making quite a few deliveries this summer, in cities all across the country, so we're going to be on the road for a while."
"Wait, what? Deliveries? Deliveries... of what?" Luke questioned.
"I honestly don't really know, and he hasn't really offered to tell me, but I have a hunch."
Drugs? Luke mouthed.
Leia nodded reluctantly.
"Leia, no, we can't ride with him if there's a chance we'll get pulled over with a carload of..." he lowered his voice, hurriedly glancing around to check if anyone was listening. "Drugs!"
"He's been doing this for a long time, and he's never been arrested yet. Besides, I don't think it's anything too severe."
Luke was flabbergasted. "Anything too severe? What drug is considered to be not severe?!"
"Pot," Leia whispered. "I mean, we'd all be in trouble if the cops found out about what we were doing, but it's not as severe as a lot of other things."
Great, Luke thought, I'm getting sucked into going on a road trip with a drug dealer. What could possibly go wrong? Luke already had his qualms about traveling with this guy he had never met, but now he was stuck wondering how Leia had gotten acquainted to the elusive Han Solo.
"Do you even know this guy?" he blurted out.
"Well, somewhat. I met him at a party. He's not a bad guy, and I swear that he won't murder us."
"That's reassuring."
"C'mon, Luke, he's just getting us from point A to point B. It's his job, and apparently he does it well enough."
"Well, what exactly is point B? What are we trying to find?"
Leia opened up her brown leather purse and pulled out a sheet of paper and a folded road map. She unfolded the map, which depicted the entire US highway system, and began jotting down a trail.
"Han is making deliveries in a few cities, actually, so this will take us a while," she began, admiring her handiwork as she nervously clicked her pen. "I was thinking that we have relatives that live in New York. Mom's cousins. If we can just get to New York, we can stay with them, if they'll allow it."
Luke stared at his sister, unsure of what to say.
"W-well, why would they just let strangers-basically strangers-stay in their house? We've never met any of Mom's relatives! They won't even know who we are!"
Leia refolded the map and tucked it away into her purse. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but she liked to hold on to the belief that there was a piece of her family out there somewhere that actually cared about she and Luke. Enough to let them stay a night or two, at the very least. She didn't want to accept that her twin brother was the only person in the world that still cared about her.
Outwardly, she pretended like everything was a sure thing, and that they'd eventually find their long-lost relatives that would take them in, but inwardly, her mind was beginning to ache.
"Look, Luke, we have to at least try. Where we are right now isn't helping us."
Luke gazed into his twin's eyes and knew she meant it. He knew it was true, too. There was nothing for them to do in this desert town in Arizona, besides waste their lives away and watch the sun set in the Western skies.
"What will we tell Dad?" he asked.
"We won't. We'll just leave a note and leave the house."
"And what if he reports us as missing? Won't the cops come looking for us?"
Leia raised an eyebrow. "He won't report it. He somehow still has enough pride not to admit that the last two people in his life just got up and left him."
They soon had finished their meals and left the restaurant, forced to endure the hot sun streaming down upon them once again for the walk home. They made small talk as they made their trek, mostly about hammering out the little details of how they would pay for food on the trip, as well as how much Han would charge for taking them along.
"It can't be too much. If we just pay for gas a few times, that should appease him, but we'll see," Leia said.
They walked past a run-down and decrepit neighborhood bar, and Leia noticed a Ford Falcon haphazardly parked in the alleyway beside it.
"I think that's Han's car," she reported, brushing past Luke. "If he's here, maybe we can start making arrangements."
Leia bravely strode through the grimy, dimly-lit place, and almost barreled her way through a rowdy argument between two rival biker gangs. Luke followed his sister's lead and sidestepped the action, squinting to see in the smoke-filled room. Leia turned back to make sure that Luke was still with her, then motioned to a corner booth.
"That's him."
Han Solo guzzled the remnants of his long-neck Budweiser as a semi-familiar face approached him. She's pretty enough, he thought to himself. Although with Leia's constant expression of seriousness, Han was unsure if she wanted to just talk to him, or if she was a jilted past lover that wanted to wring his neck.
Uh, oh. She brought backup, he thought, eying up Luke. He's scrawny, though. I can handle him.
"Han Solo?" Leia asked, shaking Han from his reverie.
"Who's asking?"
"Don't you remember me? I'm Leia, remember? We met at that party?"
Han squinted at her, and looked confused.
Leia, growing frustrated, let out a huff. "You were completely drunk and asked me to run away with you? You said you'd take me anywhere I needed to go?"
The corners of his mouth twitched upward into a sly grin. "Oh, hey, Princess. I'm glad you showed up!"
Leia rolled her eyes as she slid into the booth opposite Han. Luke still stood beside the table, hands jammed awkwardly in his pockets.
"Don't call me Princess. My name is Leia," she corrected. "And I want to know if the offer still stands."
Han guffawed. "Offer? Offer for what? I make a lot of offers when I've been drinking, sweetheart."
She lunged across the table and grabbed the collar of his shirt. Han could feel his chest hairs being pulled, and he came close to crying out in pain.
"Don't call me sweetheart either, asshole!"
He held his hands up in defeat. "Okay, I'm sorry. Now would you let go of me?"
She let go, and Han immediately smoothed his shirt collar.
"You're really making a great impression on me... uh, Leia. Now who the hell is this? Your bodyguard?" he asked, motioning to Luke.
"This is Luke, my brother. He'll be along for the trip, too."
For whatever drunken promises that Han made to this girl, he was certain that her bringing her brother along as a third wheel wasn't one of them.
"Um, what do you mean, 'along for the trip?' This ain't the Partridge Family."
"You're right, this isn't the Partridge Family, but it's similar in the fact that none of us will be getting laid."
Han scoffed. "Oh, we'll see about that."
Without missing a beat, Leia once again shot him a glare before pulling out her road map and pen, and proceeded to tell Han her plan to get to New York. Luke finally slid into the booth beside Leia, and nodded in greeting to Han.
"You said that you have deliveries out that way. I'm thinking that we could eventually make our way through the Midwest, maybe take a sightseeing trip around the Great Lakes, and make our way to New York."
Han stared down at her map. "I don't do these deliveries to sight-see. I do it to make money. Now what's in it for me?"
Leia glared at Han before answering. "We'll pay for every other tank of gas to get you there. Once we've reached our destination, I'll buy you a 12 pack of beer, since that seems to be all you care about."
"Yeah, well, if you're going with me, I'm going to need some meals paid for, too. Three square meals a day," Han sneered back.
Luke had just watched the conversation ping-pong back and forth before he finally jumped in: "One meal a day!"
"Two meals: lunch and dinner," Han shot back.
"No. One meal," Leia insisted. Han met her steely stare for a few moments before answering.
"Fine. One meal a day, every other tank of gas, a 12 pack, and..." he patted the pocket of his black jeans. "A carton of cigarettes for the road."
Leia agreed. "Fine. Now when can you get us on the road?"
"Uhhh, tomorrow, around noon?"
"Why noon?" Luke questioned.
Han flicked a finger at the waitress, his signal for, "Another."
"I'm gonna need some time to sober up."