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I am losing it.

But fuck, watching her sing on the top of her lungs does something to my insides.

And I’m not sure how to feel it.

By the fourth hour, I have listened to every damn album. I am going so crazy, that I even find myself humming along to the songs.

Finally, Izel turns it down, but only to turn and face me. “I’m starving,” she damn near yells. Of course, I am close enough to being deaf from that racket.

“You think we could possibly stop and get something to eat?” she asks. “I mean, you’re a big guy, I can’t imagine you not wanting to eat.”

Come to think of it, I should probably eat. As if on cue, my stomach starts to growl.

“What do you want?” I ask, switching lanes.

“I’m not sure.”

That’s helpful.

Coming up on a sign, I take notice of a small diner along with some fast-food places. Choosing the diner, she’ll at least have a few more picks there. Pulling into the parking lot, I turn my truck off, and climb out. Going around to help Izel down, I growl the moment she jumps down.I wanted to help her down.

“You really need to get a smaller vehicle,” she scoffs.

“Why?” I ask, walking past her towards the entrance.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m short. Been short most my life, so whe–” Izel stops mid-sentence the moment we step through the door. Almost every pair of eyes turn towards us. Izel immediately shrinks away, pushing her body up against my side. I don’t know why, but it feels nice knowing she is comfortable with me.

“Just sit anywhere!” a waitress yells from somewhere.

Without hesitating, I grab Izel’s hand. Tugging her forward, I don’t stop moving until I find an empty booth in the back. It’s important I’m able to see the exit from the kitchen and the entrance.

Izel scoots in the booth, and I know I should sit across from her. I know this, and it is going to mess with my head. None the less, I slide in beside her, reaching across to grab the menus. Handing her one, a waitress comes up.

“Hi, I’m Hannah. I’ll be your waitress. What can I get you two to drink?”

Glancing over at Izel, she continues looking over the menu as if it’s a test she’s studying for.

“What do you want to drink?” I ask Izel. Wondering why she’s suddenly shy, it’s not like her. Even if I did just meet her, she’s been loud since the minute I walked into that basement.

“Coffee,” she mumbles.

I barely hear her, so I turn towards the waitress. “Coffee and water.”

Once she’s gone, we both go back to looking over the menus, and something about her being so quiet begins to bother me. I’m used to the silence, thrive in it even. But now with Izel sitting beside me, not speaking. It’s odd and unlike her.

The other thing, she’s acting perfectly fine with the fact I killed a man in front of her. She didn’t run for the hills. Instead, she sang Hannah Montana for five hours.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “You didn’t scream,” I mutter.

“What?” She looks over and up at me, confusion written all over her face.

“When I killed that man, you didn’t scream?”

I don’t know why I’m bringing this up inside the diner, where people can easily eavesdrop. But I must know. I need to know why she’s not freaking out, calling the cops, trying to get away from me.

“I’m not entirely sure.” She shrugs. Though I can feel her lying, I don’t say anything. The waitress takes that moment to walk back with our drinks.

“I’ll take the burger with no mustard and a side of fries,” I tell her.