Riding down highway 49 North at midnight, the bucket seat hurt my ass and my eyes glazed from staring too long at a tiny white screen. Brian kept his hand steady on the wheel while every so often leaving forward, to lessen the distance from the coast to home. The car hummed and bucked as spring air slipped silently into the window. The chill on my arm prickled and my lips purse as Brian flicked his lighter to choke on another cigarette. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the passenger, to watch the stretch of highway unfold like a woman’s legs. All you wanted to do was get to the end, but you’re too impatient and rip the pavement with greedy rotations. We had just left the casino, a crisp $1 bill was my prize. With a little gilt of pride, I paraded my dollar out of the door, clutching it in two hands like a child displaying his first masterpiece. But the novelty of my $1 prize was gone, and Brian’s eyes were a little too heavy. Brian sputters, “uh.. I might not make it” the strain of exhaustion escaping his lips. “I can’t drive your car, I don’t know how to drive a standard,” I whispered like the child before. My blue peacoat’s buttons shone with each passing car, each mile becoming a little more tiring. “I mean I can try.. to drive,” I stammered. “Well I’m about to pull over to try to stretch, I should be fine,” Brian said exasperated as he slowed the car. The belt shuttered, the car clanked, and we were stopped in the middle of nowhere with stars stretching for miles. A milk-moon with a half curl smile peaked over the treeline spying over the bleak stretch of highway. I hopped out of the car; I wanted to see the stars peering out above us. One, two, three, four thousand little lights, a city in the sky, stood shining over my body as I pulled down my pants and pissed on the side of the road. Brian stood vacantly next to the car as he took a long drag on his thousandth cigarette. “I don’t have any napkins, can’t you shake a little?” Brian asked. “Yeah it’s fine, I just hope I didn’t piss on my shoes” I disgustedly sputtered as I wiped around the lip of my shoe. We slipped back into the car, the night on our backs, hurtling hundreds of miles into the morning towards Hattiesburg. All was silent until Brian started shouting random phrases to keep himself awake. I laughed a little too earnestly and continued to stare off into twilight. The highway swallows us whole, and the sky line meets gravel. I wonder if his hands will ever stop shaking. I wonder if this was my last breath, would my life be completely wasted.