“Hey yourself,” he shot back with a grin, waiting for her to get in and get her things settled and put down.
>“Feels weird, sitting up front this time.”
He laughed slightly, putting the car in drive and roaring out of the Roadhouse’s parking area. “Better view from up here,” he said, shooting a smile in her direction without taking his eyes off the road, “And, y’know, it’s slightly less awkward than last time.”
Last time he’d been in a car with her - that he could remember - was driving back from that hunt she went on with them, years ago... with Ellen in the car. He’d been torn between driving the speed limit so she wouldn’t get pissed at him for endangering them or something, or driving at breakneck speeds to get the hellishly awkward ride over with. He’d been a little surprised that she hadn’t chased them away with a shotgun when they’d gotten back to the Roadhouse.
“Your mom’s not gonna kill me for this, is she?” A quick glance in her direction, eyes narrowed, “Last I remember, she was okay with you hunting, but. I don’t really know, anymore.” Nothing was exactly the way he remembered it being, so it stood to reason that this might not have been, either. One thing he was sure of, memory-loss or not, was that Ellen Harvelle was not someone he wanted to piss off ever again.