wonwoo jerks the wheel to the right with one hand and uses the other to hold me against my seat. we swerve onto the shoulder and, as soon as the truck is behind us, we come to a stop. breathing heavily, we both just stare ahead at the dark road, wide eyed. his hand is clenching my dirty white t-shirt now.

i reach up and grab his hand, “are you okay?” i ask in a shaky breath and turn to look at him.

he turns to me as soon as he hears my voice and i can see the panic in his eyes, “are you?”

i nod, “yeah. yeah, i’m fine. are you okay?”

a tear slides down his cheek as he blinks and nods, “yeah, i’m okay.”

“why are you crying?” i ask, starting to breathe normally.

“i have no idea.”

i remove his hand from my shirt and hold onto it with both of mine. he’s not really crying, he only shed a single tear. he’s just sort of breathing heavily and acting like he’s going to cry. i don’t know exactly what to do, my friends never really have break downs or panic attacks with me around, so i’m just sort of holding his hand and hoping he’ll calm down soon. thankfully, he does. he doesn’t take his hand away from me, though. just takes his foot off the brake and gets back on the road silently with one hand on the wheel.

after about ten or fifteen minutes, the silence begins to grow awkward so i let go of his hand and pick a new CD to play(florida georgia line’s anything goes, in case you were wondering). once the first chorus of anything goes plays, we’re both singing along just as we had done before as if nothing had happened.

“hey, go to this rest stop up here. i have to pee,” i say, pointing at the large blue sign.

“okay, but only ‘cause i have to pee too. no gummy worms, got it?”

“i do what i want,” i respond with a cheeky smile, but he doesn’t smile back. instead, his face becomes more serious than gummy worms would call for.

“you need to chill with the junk food, i don’t want you to get sick. we’ll stop at the next food exit and grab an actual meal. i’ll pay this time, so let’s get something a little healthier than mcdonald’s, alright?” he pulled into a parking spot right in front of the doors and sighed, “you’re so small and fragile and you’ve already gotten hurt a lot during this trip, don’t make your stomach hurt too. come on, i really have to pee and we should throw away our garbage.”

we quickly make our way up the empty cement walkway and wonwoo drops our full walmart bag in the garbage next to the door before he opens it and we go inside. this rest stop has a nice, cozy feeling as soon as you walk in. it looks like the inside of a wooden cabin, oak logs lining the outer walls, but the large barrier in the middle with the map on it and vending machines on either side was just painted brown. the men’s bathroom is on the left, the women’s on the right, so we go left. when we enter the restroom, there is a long line of about 8 urinals on the left side of the room and only 3 stalls on the right with four sinks between the stalls and the door they just walked in from.

i take the third urinal from the door, which i always do and i don’t really know why, and start to relieve myself. i’ve had way too much coffee for this to be over with quickly. i look over and wonwoo is 3 urinals away, staring awkwardly at the wall on the other end of the restroom. i want to talk to him ‘cause the sound of our pee and nothing but our pee is too awkward, but is talking while we pee weird? i mean, what do i even say? “wow, we really drank a lot.” no. weird. “thanks for not choosing the urinal next to me.” no. that’s weird too. “it smells better than i expected in here.” hell no. i’m too weird. “i hope the soap is foaming.” god, no. “are there cheetos in the vending machine outside?” hey, that might actually work.

. no. he’s turning his head. he’s gonna look at me. . wait, has this wall always been pink? oh, wait. the pee sounds. they’re gone. i’m done. he’s done. why am i still standing here with my out? better wiggle off any leftover liquid and put it away. but really, is it the foamy soap? i like foamy soap.

as we walk over to the sinks to wash our hands, i say, “feel refreshed?” and mentally slap myself as the words are coming out of my mouth. i should never pee in the same room as him again. and the soap isn’t even foamy.

he chuckles, so i guess it couldn’t have been too awkward, and replies with, “i actually do, but now i just want to drink more,” and then he gets soap and curses at the soap for not foaming up when it comes out of the dispenser.

“this place looked so nice but the soap is so not nice,” i answer and rinse my hands off.

we make eye contact for a second(and his eyes are really, really pretty when he’s smiling, but let’s not get into that), then grab some paper towels to dry our hands off, and it’s time to get back on the road.