multiplez

Z was trying to make her cup of coffee last a little longer when a woman in a plaid jacket sat down across from her. "I heard you were looking for a ride."

"Yeah! Yeah. I am. I'm Z."

"Laura." Laura shook her hand and eyed her speculatively.

"I have a little bit of money," Z said quickly, because clearly her luck was shining on her. She hadn't even really known there were female truckers. Laura had to be better than that one guy, right?

"Eh, I just want the company, mostly. Where are you looking to go? Because I'm going up to Whitehorse, so..."

Whitehorse, Z knew dimly, was in Canada. She was pretty sure her fake ID would get her past the border check, though. "If you can just drop me off somewhere north of the border that'll be fine."

"Whatcha runnin' from, Z?"

"Who said I'm running from anything?"

"You don't look old enough to be out of high school and you don't care where you're going. And your name is one letter. I'm not stupid, kid."

"My name's always been one letter!" Z protested. "Look, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Then I'm not letting you in my truck," Laura said bluntly.

Z sighed and stared into her coffee cup for a long moment. "You ever find out you're not who you thought you were?"

"Can't say as I have. Sounds like it would suck, though."

"Well, it keeps happening to me. And I'm just supposed to be okay with it and let other people run my life and, 'Oh, it sucks, but we're going to need you to save the world, Z, so it's probably for the best,' and I just...can't deal with it. No."

There was silence in the booth for a long moment, then Laura said, "Saving the world?"

"Yeah."

"So you're from California, then."

Z snorted. "Yeah."

"I'm leaving in an hour," Laura said as she stood. "I'm gonna get some food first. My rig's the purple Peterbilt. Be there or get left."

"Thank you!" Z called after her.

((NFB, NFI, OOC OK, ETC))