route_one pleasedrivefaster she squirmed and tugged. stuck in the seatbelt once again. "i'm just no good at these things." she said and then asked, "aren't you hot in that coat?" the coat she'd brushed up against, held his arm through. and he always wore it. even when the heat pumped up through the floor of the art room. "no." he said simply shrugging, barely shaking his head. and her eyelids were falling, creeping slowly shut. the road she loathed and loved past by the window. what had taken her to trainrides and black and white photographs and honking horns and delayed construction was now taking her home. she leaned on his shoulder. no where else to go when you're in the middle seat. and as they fell asleep he tunred to her as the boy who'd almost lost his post at shotgun turned up the "sellout rap." he looked at her and glared toward the seat in front of him. and the last thing she remembered was the exit to new hampshire. 010403 what's it to you? who go blather from