hitchin'

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hitchin'

Going my way? When you find yourself on some lonesome strip of road with no way to get where you’re going, you stick out your thumb and hope the kindness of strangers pays off. It's a hitchhiking meme. Find a lift or offer one.

top level

as a hitchhiker or a driver. or both.

Hitchers tell your potential driver where you’re heading and see if they're willing to make some room.
Drivers pull over and lay down some ground rules for riding with you.

comment

on the hitchers you’ll stop for or the drivers you’ll hop in with.

Comments

[akanotjewel]

[Jessica does not say dump him, Jesus Christ, but it's obvious in the disapproving, almost pitying way she glances over at Rose. Just forget him and walk away, she doesn't say, because Jessica of all people should know just how hard that can be.]

Sounds like an asshole. [Dump him.] Listen, if you need a change of clothes, [she nods to the overnight bag in the backseat,] just—pick what you want, I guess. [Most of it is old, shapeless stuff anyway, the kind you get cheaply at a Wal-Mart. Save for the leather jacket that Rose is wearing, which is four hundred dollars.]

God, I don't know. Don't do drugs, don't drink and drive, get a damn job—there's a reason no one asks me for advice. [Because she is such a disaster zone that no one with sense asks Jessica for anything resembling advice. Case in point: her phone, stuck in the center console and running low on battery as always, flashes with an incoming call from Mrs. Steiner's number, labeled "Client - Steiner case". Jessica only gives it the briefest of glances before ignoring it.]

Just... [She hesitates for a moment. Then she sighs.] Look out for whatever family you've got left. [She thinks of Trish, then. Trish in the Raft, and her parents and her brother, dead and gone. If there's one thing Jessica is good at, it's losing.

Her fingers twitch on the wheel. What she wouldn't give for a sip from her flask, for the sweet burn of whiskey going down her throat.] That's all I've got.

[borrowyourcoat]

Yeah. [She agrees with the assessment of her fictional boyfriend, and a weariness she directs instead at some of the Road's nastier assignments. The killer truckers who think she's another piece of easy prey, the ghost hunters snuffing benevolent road ghosts out of existence for one misguided reason or another, and the things that lead to her being dead in the first place.

She listens to the advice as she swaps out the jacket for a sweatshirt- something that would've been tricky when she'd first started.]

It's better than I've gotten from some teachers. [Again, the truth. There had been the ones who'd cared, but most were like any other adult in Buckley, writing her off as lost before she'd had a chance to find her way.] And as far as things strangers in cars could tell me to do, probably the best so far. You're a lot nicer than a lot of people would be to someone like me- [Mark it down for a holiday Jess, she really means it too. ] I won't take any more of your clothes, but I hear there's a really great diner up ahead, how 'bout a burger? [She can't see the neon lights on the horizon, but she can practically hear them buzzing, and if the Road didn't want them to stop, she wouldn't be this hungry.]