[ College seemed like a good idea. When she wasn't dying, or almost dying, or worrying about everyone else dying. She's thinking it's a good idea for Jeremy now; she thinks about Jeremy a lot. What he's doing, where he's going, if he's happy. Late night talks and errants texts never seem to bridge the distance between them. It doesn't matter if it's the same sun in the sky, the same stars, and same earth beneath their feet.

He seems so far away.

Her life, everything it once was, her friends and family and lovers she hold onto so hard for so long, only to let go with too much relief.

She rolls the pen between her fingers, shifts deeper into the Impala's front seat. Her bare feet are pressed against the hot dashboard, her journal blank and open and ignored in her lap. It's sunny and just warm enough, wherever they are. Just outside of Mississippi, she thinks, but she can't be sure.

It's his footsteps. She knows he's coming back from the gas station even before he opens the car door, doesn't even have to tear her eyes from the sky. ]

Hey, do you think there might be a pool at this motel?

[ Elena turns her head when he has though, her brow piqued, her lips tugged into a slight smirk. There's never a pool (or clean ones) at any motels they stay at; but it might be nice for both of them, she's just saying. ]