Chapter Seven: iUnknown

From: Unknown

To: Sam

The road is long and in the end…the journey is the destination

I stared down at the the strange text message on my phone and frowned. What the heck? Who was this person? And why were they sending me random texts at four a.m?

"Freak," I muttered under my breath as I deleted the message and settled back into the leather seats of the eighties Love Machine van we'd "borrowed" from a hippie (He thinks I have bad Karma? He was hit over the head with a butter sock, and then his van was stolen by rambunctious teenagers and one sexually active cat).

I felt my eyes drifting shut, so I turned off my phone, the only source of light in the car at the moment. The glowing screen of my iPear went black, leaving me in utter darkness. I blinked a few times while my eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light.

Trying to sleep while curled up with my knees against my chest and my ribs poking my lungs was incredibly uncomfortable. It felt like a five-hundred-pound Sumo wrestler was body-slamming me against the front seat. It helped if I pretended I was winning the fight, though. I was on the verge of letting sleep drag me down into unconcsiousness when I heard snoring coming from my left.

"Freddie!" I screeched loudly, bolting up instantly. My eyes flew open as I reached out blindly through the darkness and shoved Freddie hard in what I prayed was his shoulder. "Wake up!"

"Just a few more minutes, mom…I haven't finished my asparagus," mumbles Freddie in his sleep. His head hangs low and his grip on the steering wheel loosens. His foot is no longer on the brakes.

"Damn it, Freddie, I hope you have the Lord on speed dial! You're gonna need the help of a Divine Force when I'm through with you if you get us killed!"

Freddie's eyes opened halfway. "Sam? Is that you?" he asks sleepily. It's a wonder how this boy remembers how to get dressed in the mornings.

"No, idiot," I snap bitterly, "it's the frickin' Pope! But I get mistaken for him all the time. I can see how you might be confused."

"Yeah, its definitely you, Sam." I think Freddie is silently laughing at me as he rubs his eyes and blinks, trying to wake up.

"Don't take your hands off the wheel!" I shriek, reaching for the steering wheel before we crash into an oncoming truck. I lean over his body as I strain to see the road in the dark.

"Ow! Seriously, this again? Exactly how many lap dances am I gonna have to endure on this road trip?"

"Oh, shut up, nub!" I wrestle with him for control of the wheel as Freddie slams his foot down on the accelerator, and we speed past cars while they blare their horns at us and shout unrepeatable things to us. But, hey, I've heard worse in the back of my mom's minivan.

"Get off me, Puckett! I am sitting in the driver's seat right now! That makes me the designated driver!"

I snort. "Aw, cute. Did your mother stitch that on a pillow for you?"

"Don't bring my mother into this! You know she thinks pillows are unsanitary! What, you think I've been sleeping pillowless for the past seventeen years because I enjoy it?"

"How should I know? I don't come into your room and watch you sleep! I have better things to do."

"Yeah, like what?" Freddie counters. "Screw with guys whose names you don't bother to learn?"

I am so startled by his accusation that I jerk the wheel sharply to the right; the car lurches forward, narrowly avoiding a collision with some old lady in a little green car.

"Oh, look, that old lady is telling us we're number one," I laugh.

"No, actually I think she's giving us the-"

"Yeah, yeah." I cast a sideways glance at him, still shocked and somewhat hurt by what he said to me earlier. Does he really think I spend my nights hooking up with random guys? That's my mother, not me. She's too drunk to hold down a real job.

I don't know why I'm so surprised Freddie has assumed I sleep around a lot. Anyone else would think the same thing if they saw a different man leave my house every morning. Only I've never thought about what Freddie must think of that. I never really cared before, so I can't understand why it bothers me now.

It's probably for the best anyway. If Freddie knew the real truth, that I'm still a virgin, he will never let me live it down. I'll have to kill him to keep him quiet and bury him in a Jewish cemetery where no one will ever find him.

"Sorry I fell asleep," Freddie says sheepishly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"You should be," is all I say. I think maybe he wants me to forgive him or apologize too, and that will never happen as long as hell is hot as…well, hell.

"You know, I was in the middle of a really great dream before you woke me up with your maniacal screaming," Freddie says quietly. He notices me shudder. "What?"

"Just thinking about what it must be like inside your head. It's not a pleasant thought," I admit teasingly. "But since I'm still recovering from our near-death experience, you might as well tell me about your little dream."

"So the gentle sound of my voice will lull you to sleep?"

"So your voice will remind me there are worse things than death."

"Nice one, Puckett."

"Couldn't resist."

"So, in my dream I'm walking through a field of daisies-"

"You're such a girl," I interrupt, smirking.

"Would you just let me finish?" Freddie sighs. "So I'm walking through a field of manly things, such as cologne and football, and there's a tree in the middle of the field. There's a girl standing underneath it, and she's saying something to me, but I can't hear what it is, and I can't see who the girl is. Every time I try to get closer something pulls me back."

We sit in silence for a long time after he finishes, both of us perfectly content to say nothing at all. He's too busy thinking about what his dreams means and I'm wondering who the girl is. He must mean Carly. It can't be anyone else. Freddie has never loved anyone else, as far as I know.

I got over Carly a long a time ago. I don't love her.

"Yeah, right," I whisper to myself. "And I don't love fried chicken."

"Did you say something?" Freddie asks.

"I said you're a freaking chicken."

"Thanks for letting me know," Freddie chuckles, but the laughter never reaches his dark eyes. They remain somber as he focuses on the open road ahead, stretching out for miles. We have miles to go.

"The road is long…and in the end the journey is the destination," I whisper, thinking of the anonymous text I received. It's kind of creepy how perfect that quote is for my life right now. But how did this "Unknown" person know?

"Sam?"

"Yes, nub?" I shove my phone deep in my pocket and push the mysterious text out of my mind.

"Are you going to be sitting on my lap until we stop for breakfast? We've got another ten miles or so to go."

"Well, someone has to keep you awake."

"You know, if a dog jumps in your lap it means she's fond of you."

"Good thing I'm a cat person."

I settle back against Freddie's chest, surprised by how comfortable I feel. I'm on his freaking lap. His hands are practically wrapped around me as he steers the wheel. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, and it sends chills racing up and down my spine.

He smells like cherries and cinnamon buns.

From: Unknown

To: Sam

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

A/N: Sorry it's been so long since my last update! I've been busy with color guard and studying for final exams ):

Who do you think "Uknown" is? How does this person know Sam? What do you think the texts mean?