"Avoiding the question, Selena," I smirked.
"Fine, you win," she conceded. "I’m not… great with people. If I play hide-and-seek with myself, how can I ever really open up to others? Trust them?"
"You should try. You did let us stay the night, and you were the one who spoke to me first," I reminded her.
"You know what? You're right!"
Selena said it so loudly that a grumble came from inside the trailer—Oscar, stirring awake.
We laughed and headed inside. It was time to at least try to sleep.
* * *
After barely four hours of sleep, running on adrenaline from the upcoming tasks and sleep deprivation, I stepped out of the trailer to the mouthwatering aroma of frying sausages and coffee.
Oscar was already polishing off his breakfast with relish while Selena expertly flipped the remaining sausages on a small cast-iron grill, poking at them with a fork.
"Hungry?" she asked me, flashing a smile—this time genuine, without a trace of yesterday's unease.
"Starving," I nodded, dropping onto the beanbag chair next to Oscar that she'd dragged outside.
"We should do these outings more often," the kid said, licking his fingers. "Just gotta remember to pack rations next time."
"Easy there, cowboy," I snorted. "Your grandad's probably turning the place upside down looking for you."
"Doubt it. He usually takes off for two or three weeks at a time. Travel's in his blood."
"Funny," Selena said, handing me a plate of sausages that still sizzled and popped with heat. "Your grandfather once told me he hates traveling and only does it out of necessity."
"How long's it been this time?" I asked carefully.
"Not long," the kid shrugged, grabbing a glass of water from the folding table. "Five days, maybe."
I tried to calculate how long I'd been stuck with Oscar. By my internal clock, it had to be at least a week—but I had no proof.
After a cholesterol-and-caffeine-fueled breakfast, we hitched the motorcycle to the trailer and set off for the private repair shop Selena had mentioned earlier.