In spite of the fact that he was meant to be relaxing and enjoying the time he was spending with Amy, Priestly had been keeping an eye on the boards. He didn't have many friends and while he didn't necessarily count Peter as one of them — mostly, he didn't — he still kept checking to make sure that the other man wasn't in danger. Mainly, he wanted to know that Eponine was okay. She was new and hadn't experienced the last bout of crazy...he knew that she had a friend from home around, but Priestly also knew that friend was even newer to Lawrence, still. Other than that, Priestly wasn't sure whether Eponine had anyone else around to look out for her. There was something about having been the one to find her that made Priestly feel like it was his job more than anyone else's. He had been relieved, so far, to know that she wasn't entangled in this mess. Part of him felt proud for having talked her into going, even if she'd been the one to bring it up. If Amy was on the run from the crazy with anyone right now, he was glad it was him.
Priestly also knew, though, that one of Amy's friends was. She'd been quiet for a little while and Priestly suspected that had a lot to do with it. He wondered if she felt guilty for not being there or if she felt guilty that she was glad she wasn't. He thought maybe he should have felt something other than glad he's taken her away when he did.
The silence in the car had been deafeningly loud even over the music humming dully out of the speakers, but he left Amy to her thoughts and to her phone, texting away. He didn't want to interrupt whatever moment she was having mdash; it wasn't his place to do so — but that certainly made for an uncomfortable stretch of road. So, when Amy's voice shattered the silence asking if he was hungry, he looked over at her, grateful to have a break from his own thoughts. He wasn't, really. Priestly was the kind of guy who ate a shitload of food at once, one time a day, and was good to go. But, that seemed like a woman's way of saying that she was, rather than literally asking whether he was, so he returned the small smile, even knowing it probably didn't meet his eyes. "I could eat," he replied vaguely. It was true, at least; he could...he just didn't necessarily want to. If Amy was hungry, though, it was time for them to stop.
Priestly's eyes moved back to the road, scanning for a nearby road sign. They'd gotten a late start today. The original plan had been going accordingly until today, actually. They'd left Lawrence in the middle of the night and Priestly had driven the eight hours up I-70 to Indianapolis, figuring that was as good a place as any to take a pit stop. They'd spent the day parked at the first rest stop after Priestly had spent forty five minutes trying to navigate the circular route 465 into town so that they could eat and find a place to shower. On Monday evening, they'd driven until they hit Jamestown, New York because, really, it was the first town that looked like it had anywhere to stop for gas or food or, really, anything in the hour stretch of road that preceded it. The idea was to have left Jamestown mid-day Tuesday and hit Boston before midnight. They'd left far later than planned and it hadn't quite worked out that way. It was 8:00pm, already, and they were still only as far as having just passed what seemed like the last sign for Binghamton, New York. Boston would have to wait until tomorrow, he supposed.
Looking back at Amy, Priestly raised his eyebrows in question. "Next exit says there's food..." he pointed out as they passed one of the all-too-familiar signs. "Looks like a mom and pop, but I'm down if you are," he added, stifling a yawn behind the back of his hand before focusing back on the road.