Chapter Text
The chain of the bike shrieked whenever Ellie pedaled. Dry metal whine that resonated down the empty expanse of road. She leaned forward, hood pulled tight, sneakers grinding against the rusty ridges of the gears.
Seven miles. She'd learned the distance by heart. The ride at night felt longer, the broken and cracked blacktop, the weeds erupting through cracks. Her spot of light skipped over gravel, lighting beer bottles and bones.
A truck careened down the highway, headlights blinding her with a flash of light. She pedaled harder, throat tight, until its red taillights disappeared into the night.
The group home had closed its doors hours earlier. Didn't matter. They wanted her working, wanted her "building responsibility," but wanted her in bed before curfew too. Couldn't have both. She'd sleep on the sidewalk if she had to. She'd done that before.
The gas station materialized on the curve of the road, white and buzzing in a ring of floodlights. Glowing orange pumps. Yellow boxes beyond the gravel from the windows. A truck was parked somewhere in the area, its growling low and steady, like a sleeping giant.
Ellie stood her bike up against the railing next to the ice machine, chain clanking metal. No one was crazy enough to steal it.
Inside, the cold air hit hard. Fluorescents buzzed overhead, bleaching out everything. The smell was always the same: burnt coffee, disinfectant, grease. The hot dog roller whined in slow curves.
She swiped her punch card, slung on the frayed red vest that had a broken logo, and plopped onto the stool at the counter. The seat wailed in full-blown agony when she bounced on it. Ellie grinned. The manager wouldn't have been pleased with that sound. He wasn't there, but she did it anyway, just so she could imagine that his teeth were grinding.
The first hour crawled along.
Ellie doodled on the back of receipts. Stacked gum by color, knocked it down again. Tried balancing a quarter on its edge and grew angry when it fell. Her stomach growled, so she tore open a bag of chips, poured half into her hoodie pocket, and ran it up as "Customer—Paid Cash."
She munched slow, crunching in the silent store.
The bell above the door rang.
He stank of stale beer before Ellie even saw him. A man in a dirty dark denim jacket, hat low, slightly wobbly as he leaned against the counter.
"Pack of Reds," he slurred. His eyes went toward the line behind her. "Blue lighter, too."
Ellie reached out and grabbed them without looking up. "Nine-fifty."
Rather than shelling out cash, he rested his elbows on the counter and leaned in. His grin became huge, yellow teeth flashing. "That it? Not even a smile for me, sweetheart?"
Ellie's chest tightened. She maintained a level tone. "You paying, or just practicing your lines?"
The grin didn't flicker. His finger drummed the counter, slow and deliberate, too close to her hand. "Bet you'd be cute if you tried."
Her jaw clicked. Her neck prickled with sweat, but she didn't let it reach her face. "Bet you'd be less disgusting if you brushed your teeth."
The grin shattered. His eyes constricted, cold. Slapped down a crumpled ten on the counter so hard she backed up. Took his smokes and lighter. Walked outside without speaking again.
The bell clanged out cheerful. The stench of him still clung in the air.
Ellie sat rigid, fists tightened on the counter until her knuckles ached. She let out a shaky breath only when the rumble of his truck was down the road.
"Yeah," she growled under her breath. "Screw you too."
Headlights swept over the windows a few minutes later, this time steady, accompanied by the deep, steady rum of a semi. Ellie knew that rumble.
Joel.
He stopped at the rear pump, pulled himself down stiffly, rolling shoulders as though he'd been driving too long. Gravel crunching beneath heavy boots. He didn't look at her when he came inside. Went straight to the coffee pot, filled a cup, added two sugars. Stirred with the red straw.
He met her eye only when he came over to the counter. Dark, impassive eyes.
"Refill's a buck," Ellie answered more coldly than she meant.
Joel produced the dollar silently. His eyes lingered on her face a fraction of a second too long. "You okay?"
Ellie smiled, her heart still pounding. "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"
He didn't respond, just picked up his cup and took a seat in the corner seat by the window. Same chair each time. Had his back to her, looking out at the lot.
Joel always lingered.
Most truckers stopped and left. Joel stayed on.
Later, two men entered. One large, bearded, grumbling about prices under his breath. The other tidy, smiling too hard for midnight. They battled their way through aisles, stocked up on jerky, chips, a folded road map.
Bill and Frank. She didn't know their names, not really, but she guessed them.
At the checkout, Bill glared at her vest. "Kid like you working nights? Irresponsible."
Ellie jammed their stuff without looking up. "See corporate about it."
Frank chuckled. Bill raised an eyebrow further. They left still arguing.
A minute short of eleven, two more silhouettes shoved past the door.
The little boy jammed his nose into the freezer glass, wide eyes at the popsicle rows. A sketchbook held tightly against his chest. His older brother at his back, scanning the room, one hand never far from his shoulder.
Sam and Henry.
They didn't buy anything. Just loitered, then disappeared into the darkness.
Ellie waited until the bell rang out behind them.
By midnight, the store was empty again. Ellie had wiped down the counter twice just to have something to do. She munched on her second piece of gum, scraped her initials into the bottom of the stool with a paperclip, stared out at Joel's truck outside.
His cigarette glowed in the taxi from time to time, tiny explosions of orange. He sat in there, nursing the same cup of coffee, watching the group. Always watching. Never asking.
The group home would close her out this evening. She could picture the other girls rolling their eyes at diesel and grease on her sweatshirt.
Ellie tapped her fingers on the countertop. The hum of the lights hung around her like a blanket that she could not squirm out from under.
The gas station was the middle of nowhere.
And so was she.