Page 18 of Shut Up and Drive

I crossed my arms and pushed my glasses up onto my nose.

“It’s a promise.”

Chapter 7

DEEP CONVERSATIONS AT THE WAFFLE HOUSE

Sera

The sporadic headlights from oncoming traffic blur behind the raindrops falling more and more frantically. A glow of red taillights ahead lines up at the highway exit, and we slow to match the pace of traffic. Along the roadway, the trees bend and sway with the heavy winds and rain, twisting my nerves tighter inside my chest.

“Thane?” I squeak. “I think the storm is getting worse. Maybe we should stop and let it pass.”

“We have four hours to go. We can make it,” he insists.

“I disagree. It’s getting super hard to see through the windshield, especially with that huge spiderweb crack.”

“Look, Fina. If we stop now, the storm is just going to get worse. If we keep going, we can get to the other side faster. It’s only going to get darker once the sun completely sets. I’d rather drive in daytime rain than nighttime rain.”

“Let’s be honest with ourselves. We haven’t seen a ray ofsunshine for hours. Everyone is running their headlights because no one can see. Just get off at the next exit and we can take shelter somewhere for a bit.”

“We’ll be fine. I can see far enough ahead of me…”

A surge of lightning branches across the sky, illuminating the black clouds above us. A split second later, everything goes dark. The streetlights that line the highway go out. The billboards and street signs dim and extinguish, and the houses and businesses throughout the city plunge into darkness. Thane slows way down, and I look nervously out the windshield.

“I’m not sure there is a place we can go to now, even if wedidstop,” he says quietly.

I nod slowly.

“I think the cars getting off the road back there knew something we didn’t.”

“Yeah. But I’m not sure what to do now.”

Around the next bend, standing out like a beacon in the darkness, is a familiar bright yellow and black sign. At the same time, Thane and I both shout, “Waffle House!”

“They’re still open! There’s hope!” I say, laughing with relief.

“We only need to worry when the Waffle House closes!” Thane replies, putting his blinker on to exit.

We park the car and run as fast as we can through the rain to the door. The usually brightly lit restaurant has every other light dimmed or off, and the grill cook works with a gooseneck lamp clamped onto a shelf above him.

“Welcome in!” the waitress says over the hum of a generator running out back. “Take a seat anywhere you can find a place, I’ll be with you shortly. Power is limited, but thegas grill is running. Here’s an updated menu.” She hands us a sheet of laminated paper.

“Thank you,” I reply. “We’re just grateful for a place to go.”

“We’re open twenty-four hours. You can stay as long as you need, or until the generators run out of fuel,” she responds with a tired smile, and walks away.

We shuffle over to a small corner booth and glance over the menu.

“No waffles tonight, but they’ve got hash browns scattered and covered,” Thane says, wringing out his shirt onto our feet under the table. “I’m satisfied as long as I can get crunchy, cheesy hash browns and eggs.”

I shiver under my wet hoodie. “Does the coffee pot still run, I wonder?”

“I sure hope so. After that stressful drive, I’m drained.”

“Same,” I say, wiping the mascara from under my eyes. “And how is it that I’m so hungry already? I guess itisdinnertime, but I thought I’d never be hungry again after that Philly cheesesteak.”

“There’s always room for Waffle House,” Thane says, perusing the short menu.