The Illusion of Separation

We didn't spend too much time in Arizona. Chris didn't like how hot it was and how there was just about nothing in it until you got to the cities and suddenly it was a bustling metropolis of life. We'd all come from the Midwest, where it wasn't exactly an urban kingdom, but at last we didn't have highways that stretched on and on through the desert like they were never gonna end. It got kind of boring after a while. We couldn't even play that "I Spy" game.

"I spy with my gorgeous eye--" this was Christofer, naturally "--something that starts with the letter 's'."

I took a moment to look around.

"Uhm. Sand."

He clapped unenthusiastically. "Great job, Hannah. Now your turn."

"Hmm...I spy...something that rhymes with...'hand'."

"Sand."

"Oh my god, Christofer, you are a genius."

And so on and so forth. By now I think you get that there wasn't much in the way of scenery in Arizona. I missed Missouri, to be honest, but I knew this wasn't going to be a permanent trip and that sooner or later I'd be coming home, my heart leaping into my throat at the sight of Welcome to Missouri on the side of the road. I think Chris missed it, too, considering it was our home, but he always had loved the idea of traveling.

"You know what's a shame?" I asked as we passed the 15 miles to Tempe sign.

Carter raised an eyebrow in the rearview mirror. "What?"

"No one at school really gave a fuck about what happened. Like, none of it. I mean, I know there were some people that cared a little and were like 'Oh, shit, did you hear Chris died?' but that's about all that they did." I didn't have a lot of faith in humanity anyway but this just helped lessen it even more. "Like, no one had a memorial service or anything. That's just fuckin' awful."

"You didn't exactly stand out," Carter said to Christofer.

It was weird because Christofer was the type of guy you'd think would stand out like crazy, that people wouldn't be able to get enough of, but that wasn't the case. While he was that way to Carter, his friends, and I, no one at school really took much notice of the hippie boy that always had to sit in the middle somewhere because of his last name, lost in a crowd of students. He was quiet for the most part, keeping to himself. It was hard for him to do that because you could tell most of the time he wanted to burst out into song or at least say what was on his mind if nothing else, but he kept quiet and didn't stray from the "shy highschool student" thing he had going on. Well, except for the no-shoes thing. He took off his shoes every time he was in class. The only time he wore them was when he was required to, but once he sat down no one could really tell him to keep them on.

Christofer shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, if we can get me visible again, then it'll be fine. I'll make up for highschool."

"Chris, not that I don't want you visible, but what happens when people find out you're not dead after all and that for some reason your body is six feet under but you're actually right here?"

"I'll think of somethin'. I always do."

Christofer was the kind of person that rolled with the punches, that took things as they came. He didn't spend too much time thinking about what he was going to do tomorrow, or even in the next hour for that matter. I had learned to accept it by now, and he was right; what were they going to do, accuse him of being a ghost? Humans were so uptight about things making sense that the story would make itself and we would just go along with it. Maybe he survived somehow and you accidentally buried him alive, and he managed to escape like in that Kill Bill movie. Then why wasn't he breathing? Maybe he dropped into a comatose state. Even thinking about it, I came up with all kinds of answers by myself.

"You're right," I admitted, watching the Tempe skyline come up over the horizon. "Oh my god, finally some civilization."

"And a Waffle House, hopefully," Chris said.

I was getting really, really sick of hearing about the Waffle House thing, so I borrowed Carter's phone (since mine was probably shut off due to lack of payment because my dad paid for it) and looked it up.

"What's it say, Hannah?" Chris asked, looking over my shoulder.

I swatted him away. "I hate when you do that. Just sit back on your ass and let me take care of things." I scanned the locations and sighed in relief. "Okay, Christofer, there's one Waffle House in Tempe. Happy now?"

He let out a whoop of delight and punched the roof of the car.

"Hey," warned Carter, "watch it, unless you want to pay for it."

"I'm dead, Carter, I can't get a job to pay for it."

"There are ways."

I could feel the mood lighten in the car. My spirits lifted as well, and even Carter seemed more amiable and pleasant, more like he had been before the accident and like his old self again. And all because of a fuckin' Waffle House. Well, whatever. I was just happy that everyone else was.

We debated going in at first because of the unreliable nature of Chris's visibility, but he whined like such a bitch that we decided to chance it. Thankfully he stayed visible all the way through ordering and all the way through his coffee, which stayed in his body and didn't form a stain on the floor or anything, so I was pretty confident that for now he was going to be fine. I had a hard time believing he was even dead. I was snuggled up to him, my body fitting into the grooves of his, and he had his arm around my shoulders. I wanted to cry, it was so perfect.

"So ya gonna tell us where we're goin' yet, Carter?" Chris asked, smirking across the table at our best friend.

"Nope. It's a surprise. You gotta figure it out yourself when we get there."

"Okay...is it in Arizona?"

Carter shook his head. My interest was suddenly piqued. I'd figured we were going to stop off in Phoenix or something and get a hotel until we figured out where to go. After all, this was the westernmost part of the southern United States...unless we were going north. The names crept into my head. California, Oregon, Washington state, Canada. Well, I didn't have my passport so we weren't going to Canada. That left three, unless Carter was going to hang a direct right angle and go to Nevada, but that was just more desert and Carter seemed annoyed by the lack of scenery too.

He took a swig of black coffee and smiled. "Not telling anythin' more than that."