- Our crossed lanes

''Travelling, by Adrena Calero.

The excitement that meets a tired soul, when a plane ticket has been purchased. The excitement that meets the tired eyes, when you have to be at the airport at 4.00 AM. The excitement that meets the stiff legs after a ten hour flight, when they walk out into new lands.

I've never left New York. Growing up, plane tickets were the last priority. My mother found other ways to get high. As a child, I envied her so much for the travels she went on, only by the use of an needle or a pill. I envied the many creatures she met, on her trips.

''I'm tripping,'' she'd say, before her eyelids shut. And then she'd mumble, saying gibberish words, to the creatures I never got to meet.

Only a few years later, she went on the longest trip known to mankind. She met the skies, and sometimes I like to think that she's a pilot somewhere in the other world, aiming for her next destination.''

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**Adrena's point of view**

There was something very mediative by driving. I stayed on the main road, a huge highway, that led us somewhere unfamiliar. Even though I'm in terrible danger, I've never felt more free. I began to understand why there was so many truck drivers.

I turned on the radio, but made sure to keep the volume down, so Lorenzo wouldn't wake up. I glanced at him, and smiled. He was resting his face up against the window, and supported his injured arm, with his opposite hand. He led out small snores, that made me chuckle quietly.

It's been a few hours since we switched seats, and I was beginning to feel tired as well. I kept yawning, but rubbed my eyes, each time they felt too heavy to keep open. I had to stay awake, I didn't want to wake him up, he deserved all the rest he could get. Besides, my back has been healing so well, that the pain is almost unnoticeable.

I thought about me and Naomi's conversation on the phone. It felt so nice to finally hear her voice, even though the circumstances weren't exactly friendly. But something haunted me – who was Peter? He was the one who picked up when I called.

Naomi has a lot of friends, especially male friends… But I've never heard about a Peter before. He could just be a tinder date, or someone she met on Instagram, but my gut told me otherwise.

I wanted to tell Lorenzo earlier, but the timing just wasn't right. Considering his wounded arm, rage against the phone booth, and conversation with his father, I think it's best if I wait a little, before I tell him about it. He has enough on his mind, as it is.

I also began to think about the future I – or we – had ahead. It was hard to imagine it, and almost impossible to try and figure out, what would happen.

I don't know if I like Lorenzo. I mean, I like him, but I don't know if I like-like him. He's so different from me, and so… bipolar. His mood changes every five minute, and he's aggressive, violent, controlling and spoiled.

But he's also brave, loving, kind and… well to be honest, the most handsome man I've ever seen. Which surely made the four bad sides of him, seem a little blurry. But what did he think about me?

If he could choose any girl in the world to be on this ''adventure'' with, would he have picked me?

I shook my head and led out a laugh, by listening to my own thoughts.

Of course he wouldn't.

I tried my best not to get jealous or even slightly irritated, by his comments regarding other women. He made them several times which indicates, that he's been a busy man. And sure, everyone has a past, and I can't judge him, based on his past relationships. But there was still this disgusting envy - jealousy even, who was rotting inside of me.

Speaking of people from the past, I couldn't help but think about his family, lifestyle and ''job''. The man who's currently sleeping peacefully right next to me, has actual lives on his conscience. The last time I thought about that, I jumped out of the car, trying to run away from him. That suddenly seemed like ages ago, despite it being only two days ago.

What's it like, to be inside his head? It was impossible to read, impossible to understand and extremely impossible not to admire. Besides our lives being completely different, I see something insanely familiar in him.

Even though he grew up with wealth and power, and I grew up with poverty and defeat, we have some sort of cross path, where our ends meet. And I'm not there yet – my feet are still to unsteady, to insecure, to make it to the finish line. But someday, maybe not far away in the future, I will discover, why I find comfort in someone, who had a gun, before he had a choice.

The hours passed, and I was on my sixth hour driving. It was still dark outside, and there was almost no traffic, which gave me the impression, that we were getting further and further away from the city. I still had no idea where we were, or where we were going.

Suddenly, I could hear Lorenzo adjusting from his seat.

''Sorry I slept for so long-'' he muttered, in a stern voice. He rubbed his eyes, and yawned as he continued: ''we should switch seats.''

I gave him a quick reassuring look, and shook my head. ''Nah, I'm fine. How's your arm?'' I asked.

He looked at his wrapped up arm with puffy eyes, and squinted them. ''It's a little better. Still hurts, not gonna lie, but it's better, thanks. How's your back?'' he asked.

''It's good – almost can't feel the pain anymore.'' I replied, with a smile.

I realized something, as we spoke. When day changes to night, we change too. It's like our inner demons who are visible - illuminated even throughout the day, goes to sleep when the stars appear on the black sky. There's a gentle, innocent and loving atmosphere when it's nighttime, and a hostile, dominant and toxic atmosphere, when the sun goes up.

''Good. Are you hungry?'' he asked, as he jerked, so he could sit up straight.

''A little, but I'll just wait till we pull over somewhere, to get breakfast. Do you know where we are?'' I asked, hoping for some guidance.

He scouted at the window, and squinted his eyes. He frowned, as he said ''well, I'm not the driver, so I have no idea, I've been sleeping?'' He led out a laugh, and I did the same.

''True – but it seems like we're on the countryside, don't you think?'' I asked.

''Maybe? It's pitch black outside, so I have no fucking idea. Come, lets switch seats.'' He said, as he pointed towards the door with his head.

I pulled in, and we switched. I could see that he was in a lot of pain, by the grimaces he made, as he got in the driver's seat.

''Lorenzo are you sure that you're suited to drive?'' I carefully asked.

He led out a sight. ''Yes, I'm sure. There's still some food in the plastic bag, in the back.'' I grabbed the bag, opened it, and took out two apples. ''How… delicious.'' I teased, as I handed him one.

Seconds later, both our eyes caught the massive sign that said ''Welcome to Cross Lanes, West Virginia''

''We're in West Virginia?'' I shouted, with my eyes widened.

''Damn, I've slept for hours.'' Lorenzo gaped, in disbelief. ''How many hours have you been driving?''

''Six or seven, I think'' I replied, with my face glued to the window. The sun was coming up, and I was afraid that It would wake up our demons too.

''Adrena, why didn't you wake me? If I knew that you'd been up for that long, I would have switched seats with you hours ago!'' he yelled.

''I'm sorry? You just needed the rest – I literally took a bullet out of your arm, less than 24 hours ago? Don't blame a woman for caring.'' I mumbled back.

''I would never'', he replied, with a satisfied look on his face, while he grabbed my thigh with his hand.

I thought about Cross Lanes, as we drove through it to find a motel. A couple of hours ago, I wondered when me and Lorenzo's paths would meet – and wondered when I'd discover where my comfort in him comes from.

Was it a sign from ''God'', that it was about to happen soon? Either we're just driving through Cross Lanes, or maybe our lanes will finally cross, sometime soon.

''You look so focused. What're you thinking about?'' Lorenzo asked, while he speeded down.

I hesitated, and led out a sight. ''Do you feel like we know each other?'' I asked, still with my eyes stuck to the window.

He cleared his throat, before he answered. ''Shit, I don't know, that's a weird ass question to ask someone this early in the morning, don't you think?'' he replied, with a grin.

''Yeah, I guess so.'' I mumbled back.

A minute or two passed, before he spoke again. ''I feel like I know one side of you. I've gotten to know the kind, loving and strong-willed Adrena, but I know that there's another side of you, possibly even closer to who you really are, that I can't wrap my head around. You seem so… mature and courageous, and I see something in your eyes, that tells me that you were taught to be those two things, way too early in life. Am I wrong?'' he asked.

I didn't know what to say. I told him a small fraction of my story, when we were still at his apartment, three days ago. But there's still a lot of things, I haven't told him – or anyone really – and I wasn't ready to do so.

''I might be mature, but I'm surely not courageous.'' I replied. Here I was, once again, receiving compliments without being able to process them.

''I don't agree. You've handled everything so fucking smoothly, and I'm so impressed with the way you cope with things. I've told you before, and I think you need to hear it again.'' He said, with a determined and rather harsh voice.

I was unsure what to respond, but thankfully, I never had to, cause only a few seconds later, we found a motel.

Lorenzo pulled in, and parked his car behind the building.

''I feel like this town haven't seen such a sweet ride before. I think it's best if I park it in the back'' he said while biting his tongue, as he concentrated on parking the car.

''Okay. You really love that car, don't you?'' I asked with a cheeky smile.

''Otherwise the 120.000 dollars I spend on it, would be a waste, don't you think?' he replied with a proud smile.

''120.000 dollars!? FOR A CAR?'' I yelled back, shocked to my core.

''It's a Maserati Quattroporte, not a Toyota Previa.'' he hissed. ''Anyways, let's go inside.'' He added, as he got out of the car.

I couldn't help but laugh. 120.000 is a lot of money, and to think that someone would spend that kind of money on a car and not a home, seemed so foolish to me.

We walked inside the motel, which didn't look that much different from the last one. I was surprised that they were open – this town doesn't appear to have a lot of visitors.

Lorenzo used the same speech as in Philadelphia, and just like the owner of that motel, this one didn't seem to have a problem keeping us off the charts either. We got the room keys, and quickly found our room.

There was one thing, that was different this time though.

There was only one bed.