“You’re awfully quiet. Is everything all right?” I ask.

Ellie lifts her head from the window and looks at me as we head out of Raleigh. I can't tell much. But I know she's been watching the early morning scenery roll by us.

"Yes," she says, sniffing. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. For a second, I think she might be crying.

“You sure?”

She doesn't answer me, and the silence between us is awkward. At first, I wonder if she's just not a morning person. But as we pick up the interstate to head toward Southport, I feel like I've done something wrong. Like she's playing distant just so I'll leave her alone.

Which is odd only because we got along so well last night. During and after sex, she seemed totally satisfied with me— sexually and emotionally. Like I was finally enough for her.

From my experience, the entire night was incredible. From the car ride, to the concert with Beth, to the pool underneath the stars. It all makes this morning's silence that much more gut-wrenching. Not what I expected at all. In fact, I can still hear her in the back of my mind. Her playful banter, the divinity measured in her voice, the way she let me kiss her last night deep in pleasure. God, take me back. And suddenly, it hits me what will make her feel better. "Do you want any music?"

"No." Folding her arms over her chest, she yawns and pushes her cheek to the window again.

“How about breakfast? We can stop for coffee or a doughnut? You didn’t eat anything at the house.”

"No, thanks."

A deep well of concern gathers at the base of my skull. "Is that all I'll get from you today? A handful of no's?"

She doesn't answer me but shrugs and rubs her temple as if I'm giving her the world‘s worst headache.

Alright. Understood.

Unfortunately for both of us, traffic is slow this morning. Our car is silent besides the hum of the engine and the few sighs that Ellie lets escape her annoyed mouth.

A few times, I consider trying to break the ice, giving it one more shot with her. But the miserable mood radiating off of her stops me in my tracks until I realize something. Maybe she's needing the humor. I revert back to our inside joke knowing that it'll, at the very least, garner a smirk. "So, I guess we'll get to have sex after this fight, right? I mean, since you are my girlfriend and all.”

"I'm not your girlfriend," she says deadpan.

I don't speak a word for at least five more miles, but my mind is going crazy. It was our joke, an inside one that she'd found amusing until about six minutes ago.

And on the flip-side. Why will she not accept that we work well together? Why is she so adamant that we have nothing between us? When we reach the Wilmington exit, I can't hold it in any longer. "Why do you think we wouldn't work together? Is it me?"

"Jesus, Mason." With a scoff, she shakes her head like I'm a monster.

"Look, I'm sorry if I did something to offend you. I just am not sure why you're suddenly not good with things between us. Are you okay?" But before I can brace myself for a response, she snaps.

"Stop, Mason! I am one-hundred-percent, so totally and completely okay with everything. Why do you always ask me that and assume I'm just—" she spurts in annoyance, her words sputtering out like she's run out of fuel. I don't understand her. Like we hadn't just spent the entire night tangled up in one another. Her standoffishness is something new to me this trip. And already, I find it deep and dangerous. An uncharted territory.

But this mood. I don’t understand how. I’d felt her next to me all night craving my touch, her arm draped over my stomach, cheek pressed to my chest like she’d disappear if we weren’t touching one another. But somehow we woke up on completely different planes. Opposite pages of the same book.

"Why do I always ask if you're okay?" I say, sounding harsher than I mean. "Oh, I don't know, Ellie. I guess because I really care about you."

“Well, maybe you should stop.”

My voice catching in my throat, I scoff to hide my irritation. "Are you serious?"

“Yep,” she says simply.

And all I’m hearing is arrogance. My palms grow sweaty against the steering wheel, and I can feel the heat rising in the back of my neck. “What’s your problem?” I ask knowing her response won’t fare well.

“Nothing. You.”

"What the fuck, Ellie? I was inside you hours ago, and you can't even be honest with me?"

"I was honest when I said I'm not interested in a relationship," she says through gritted teeth. "I'm not looking for anything serious, and I thought you understood that."

"I've been nothing but good to you. But somehow that isn't enough. I brought you to meet my family for fuck's sake. What was I thinking?" I say more to myself than to her.

“I never asked for any of it. You blackmailed me into going by holding my festival hostage with your stupid paper.”

Her accusation makes me burst out into a mad sort of laughter, the thought of me blackmailing her actually absurd. "Is that what you think? You really think I wouldn't have written anything unless you promised to come with me? What kind of people do you surround yourself with for you to think that's normal?"

She inhales sharply, and I feel like I might have just made her cry. “You really want me to answer that? The reason I don’t want a relationship? The reason why I see nothing but bad in most people?”

Whatever bomb she’s about to drop on me, I keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to force her to explode with it.

Taking a deep breath, she balls her fists up in her lap. "Three months ago, I thought I was pregnant. My boyfriend left me while I was working a shift at the Bean. I dealt with the fallout on my own. So yeah, I'm not perfect, okay? I get angry and scared talking about things like relationships. I use humor so I don't have to deal with the hurtful shit. I don't have a family I can run to when things get tough or lonely. I don't have anything except what I've given myself since high school," she says, swiping at her cheek. "So don't sit there and tell me that there's something wrong with the way I look at the world. This is the only world I've known. And if you're going to be pissed off at me for accepting that, then you're part of the problem." Sighing, she crosses her arms and leans back against the window.

My heart drops. I want nothing more than to pull over this car, reach over, and hug her. Searching my mind for something that'll remedy the situation, I dig back to how we met. How our paths crossed. "You chose me, Ellie. Of all the people at that concert, you gave that ticket to me." I clear my throat trying to push away the emotion. "I don't know why or how I ended up with that ticket. But we were brought together. Doesn't that count for something?"

Shaking her head, she tilts her chin to her chest. "You were the closest person to me the moment I decided to throw it away. It could've been anyone."

We're silent for the rest of the drive until I take the Southport exit. One complete hour of radio silence. Something I can't shake with her.

"Do you want to come over tonight?" I ask quietly. I can't tell if my words are more out of desperation or kindness. "Or if you're tired, I can take you to my house. I have to go into the office for a bit, but if you want to get some sleep."

She smiles sadly and wipes something from her eyes. “Please quit trying to turn me into your girl or whatever,” she whispers, her voice wavering. “I will never fit right with you.”

Fit right? I cannot lose her like this. "We're not walking around like some mismatched puzzle pieces," I say. "This is me wanting to spend time with you, Ellie. Wanting to make you comfortable."

Sniffling, she wipes her eye again as a tear rolls down her cheek. "Life isn't supposed to be comfortable or fair for everyone. Life is screwed up. And your kind isn't supposed to mix with my kind."

“My kind?” The phrase tightens my chest with a sharp sort of sadness.

"Your rich, white-picket-fence neighborhood. Where everything is cookie cutter sameness. And that's not me. I don't fit in with everyone else." She lowers her voice. "The only reason your sister thinks I'm cool is that I'm completely different than the people she's grown up around. I just— I don't fit in."

Pulling into her driveway, I throw the car into park. "Ellie, I don't want you to fit in with everyone else. That's what I love about you," I say, meaning the word in every single sense. Reaching over, I put my hand on her bare knee. "Will you please look at me?"

Ignoring me, she continues. “You’ll grow tired of me eventually, just like every other guy. I’m a commodity at first until I’m not. You’ll grow tired of my differences soon.”

I let out a puff of air when she throws the car door open. Not having a chance to open the door for her, I walk her to the stoop. As she fiddles with her keys, I stand there awkwardly wanting to kiss her goodbye.

"You can't come in," she says her voice raspy, lacking emotion.

With my ego completely shattered, there's not much left for me to say. "Okay."

After she gets the door open, she reaches out for a quick, cold hug. "Thanks for the trip," she says with another tear streaming down her cheek. Trying to smile at me, she bobs her head. "It was a lot of fun."

When I turn back to my car, the realization hits me that maybe she just wanted me for a lay. Or to promote her music festival. Either way, Ellie has won. And a huge part of me feels like this might be the last time I ever see her.