I'm thinking Wednesday...I want to get at least one more person, maybe two if we can. Although we could always start....OK! I would like to start it (like I post first) but let me check with you people now. Are we good to start?
I walk out of the gas station, immediately making my way towards the van. It is still a piece of crap, but even after the crashes and fender benders and many, many breakdowns, I just can not get rid of the thing. It might have to do with the fact I basically spent my entire life with Lurie in that thing. I smile, noticing her small feet hanging out the passenger side window. Yep. She's my girl. I walk over to her side, poking my head through the open window.
"Hey," I say, my smile falling as I notice her face. "What's up?"
"It's...It's Lizzie. She says there's trouble with Zeb. A-and, I mean, Zeb? If there's trouble with Zeb there's something up. Sh-she....She- Lizzie. I mean, Lizzie, she..." Lurie's chocolate brown eyes start tearing up.
"Aw hell," I mutter, gently moving her legs from the windowsill and opening the door. I slide into the car, making her scoot over a bit. "What's she do, hun? What's up? What ever we need to do, we'll do it." I say, trying to be soothing while thinking about punching Zeb smack dab in the middle of his face. And then watching him stagger back, and then kicking him in the stomach....But only if Lurie will let me. I sigh again, draping an arm over her delicate shoulders. "What's up?" I try again.
I looked around to make sure nobody was looking. Sure of my safety, I walked into the bathroom. Nobody could see as my molecules, separated and microscopic, seeped back under the door and toward the food department of the small, run-down Wal-Mart. I found some expensive looking specialty bread and took control of it. Slowly, painfully slowly, I creeped across the edge of the wall a a loaf of bread. A few people regarded the misplaced item curiously, but otherwise left me be. I finally cleared the store and floated away. Another meal.
I found Nick camped in some brush near the highway.
"Zack, where have you been?" he asked. "No. Don't tell me. Stealing again. Zack, I don't care how hungry we are, that bread isn't ours."
He tried to grab it from the now reformed me, but I ripped it out of the packaging and tore a bite out of the moist bun.
