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the fuel gauge, she flashed her headlights. The truck’s brake lights illuminated ahead, and Andy stopped a few yards behind them, seconds before the engine went dead. Neither driver had bothered to pull over to the shoulder—they hadn’t passed a single car the entire day.
    “Finally out of gas?” Ben called out to Andy after everyone was back outside.
    “Yeah.”
    “Then grab your stuff. But two of you will have to sit in the back.”
    As she and her friends transported their things out of the minivan, Ben was glad to see that their possessions were few. More stuff meant more weight, which meant lower gas mileage, and three extra bodies was weight enough. Then, knowing his cousin would appreciate it, he suggested that Morgan ride in the front of the truck with Jim. “Tired of listening to him all the time,” was his feeble excuse. “My ears need rest.”
    “Um, okay. Thanks,” Morgan muttered. “Charlie, you okay sitting in the back?”
    But Charlie was already following Ben into the truck bed. “No worries,” he called out.
    “The wind will feel good,” Andy added, preempting the same question. She climbed in last and quickly positioned herself into a corner at the rear. Once they were underway, she closed her eyes.
    Ben found himself glancing over at her in the dark even though he couldn’t see her face, or that she had already fallen asleep.
    ***
    After what felt like a few hours, Andy woke up. It was still dark, and since she never wore a watch she could only guess what time it was. The truck was driving much slower than it had been, and they were weaving through treacherous terrain with many hairpin turns and altitude fluctuations. She wondered where they were when she saw a passing sign for Route 441 reflecting off the headlights—a route that meant nothing to her.
    The air had grown cooler, so she pulled the bottom of her oversized sweatshirt over her knees and grabbed a blanket lying nearby. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time someone had slept in the back of this truck. After snuggling herself into a cozy bundle, she looked up at the sky and released an unexpected gasp. Thousands upon thousands of stars shone like tiny pin pricks of light in the navy sky. Within the span of a few minutes, Andy witnessed three shooting stars. It reminded her of Bermuda at night, with the smell of moist forest trees replacing the salty sea air and the rhythm of small waves lapping at the coastline.
    “Pretty, isn’t it?”
    Ben’s voice startled her. She could barely discern his silhouette, making his voice seem disembodied. “What?”
    “The stars…they’re beautiful out here.”
    “Oh, yeah. They are.”
    A long pause followed. Andy didn’t know if the brief exchange was meant to be the start of a conversation, so she remained silent.
    “So what was Bermuda like?”
    Okay, a conversation it was. “Bermuda? Bermuda was a little bit of everything, I guess.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “Well, it’s tropical in the summer, but the winters can be—”
    “—Hang on. I can’t hear you.”
    The truck had begun to pick up speed, and the passing wind made hearing difficult. Ben slid back to the rear of the truck bed until he and Andy were sitting across from each other. Charlie, meanwhile, was still asleep at the front of the bed.
    “Sorry, say that again,” Ben said after settling in.
    “I said it’s tropical in the summer, but the winters can be pretty cold.” Andy had to almost shout her words to be heard.
    “Because it’s not in the Caribbean, right?”
    “Right. It’s much farther north.”
    Off to her left, the faintest light of dawn could be seen. “How can you drive so long without stopping?”
    “This truck has three tanks. We could drive a thousand miles without stopping if we had to.”
    “Three tanks? Trucks don’t have three tanks.”
    “No, but Jim and I modified this one.”
    “I bet that comes in handy.” Unsure of what else to say, Andy returned her gaze to the stars. The