"It must be hard to have lost both your parents. Do you have any other family?"
"No, it's just me," I lied again.
"That's rough," he said, eyeing me critically like he expected me to have a sudden meltdown.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I try not to think about," I said pointedly so he would change the subject.
"There's no one back home who misses you?" he persisted.
"Why? Are you changing your mind about adding my head to your collection?" I joked, hoping he'd get the hint.
He looked as if he wanted to ask me another question, but must have thought better of it. "Don't you mean 'boobies in my trunk'?" he asked just as an employee from the restaurant approached his open window.
I bit off a laugh as the employee eyed us like we had two heads or something before thrusting our food at us and scurrying away. "I'm pretty sure we've traumatized her," I commented as I handed him a fry out of the bag. "You better hope she doesn't take down your license plate number."
"Wouldn't be the first time," he joked, merging onto the highway.
"I knew it all along. You're like that Ned Dundy guy."
"Who?" he asked, taking the burger I had unwrapped for him.
"The serial killer who lured girls into his car."
"You mean Ted Bundy?" he asked, laughing.
"Whatever. He was mentioned in one of my psychology classes along with some other freaky dudes."
"I took a class in college once that concentrated on the study of serial killer behaviors. It was interesting," he replied.
"You're not helping your case," I said dryly.
"Trust me, sweetheart. You'll approve of the plans I have for your body." He shot a suggestive look at me.
"You're such a flirt," I quipped, ignoring the effect his joking words had on me.
"Just keeping it real," he said seriously, taking another drink of his Coke.
"Is that right?"
"You can bank on it."
"This weather is amazing," I said, changing the subject. I rolled down my window slightly to let the cool breeze flow in.
"Truth. It's much more enjoyable running in temperatures in the low forties and fifties versus the eighties and nineties," he explained.
"I wouldn't know anything about the whole running thing, or anything involving exercise for that matter, but I agree that the lower temperatures make everything better," I said, scrunching my nose disdainfully at the idea of running.
"You don't exercise?" he asked, looking at me like I was nuts.
"God no. Life is too short for something so disagreeable."
"Disagreeable? Now that's crazy talk. It's freeing and exhilarating. Not to mention an excellent way to clear your mind."
"I'll pass."
"What do you do to relax then?" he asked.
"I'm active in a lot of swinger clubs," I deadpanned, laughing as he swerved slightly.