Chapter Text
Jess creeps into Lupe’s room and puts her hand over her mouth, pinches her nose shut. Lupe startles awake and Jess shushes her, before she can really get going. It’s late, past midnight, and Jess doesn’t want anyone else in the house to wake up.
“Come get a drink with me,” she says, and Lupe, still half disoriented with sleep and with oxygen deprivation, just nods.
Jess sits on the edge of Lupe’s bed and watches her get dressed, tie her shoes, shove a hat over her head. They sneak down the stairs, through the front door, jimmy with the doorknob so they don’t get locked out. On the front porch, Lupe asks,
“Where are we going?”
“Chicago,” Jess says. Lupe blinks. That was not what she expected. Jess jingles a ring of keys in front of her face. Beverly’s.
“Please?” Jess asks. She doesn’t want to beg.
“You want to drive all the way to Chicago to get a beer?” Lupe double checks. Jess scratches at her forearm. If Lupe isn’t used to her by now, she never will be.
“I had a bad dream, alright?” she admits. She’d woken up in bed, had sweat clear through her sheets and hadn’t been able to fall asleep again. Lupe indulges her.
“Sure, alright. Let’s go to Chicago.”
They climb in Beverly’s car. Jess starts it up; it sounds obscenely loud in the still night air. She eases it down the block. Lupe, in the passenger seat, pulls her legs up next to her.
“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Lupe asks Jess, once they’re a few streets over.
“Not a clue,” Jess answers. She figures, they’ll figure it out as they go along. Lupe nods. She isn’t worried.
“Who do you have for the Series, this year?” Lupe asks. Jess hums. This is a well trod topic of conversation, between the two of them.
“Pittsburgh, maybe,” she predicts. Lupe disagrees.
“St. Louis, definitely. Pittsburgh won’t come close.” Jess nods. Lupe’s usually right about that sort of thing. Analysis and statistics. Logic.
Beverly’s car bumps amiably over the potholed street.
“Hershey’s or Tootsie Rolls?” Jess returns. Lupe smirks, because she thinks Jess already knows the answer to this one. Jess does. She just likes the sound of Lupe’s voice.
“Tootsie Rolls,” Lupe opines, and yeah, Jess already knew that. Easier to carry around in your pocket, for one thing.
“Me or Maybelle?” Lupe inquires.
“Looks or personality?” Jess returns. She’s smirking now too. She puts her arm out of the window to signal a turn, even though they’re the only car out for blocks.
“Looks,” Lupe specifies.
“Maybelle,” Jess says. She tries not to giggle.
“Personality, then,” Lupe presses.
“Maybelle,” Jess repeats, even quicker. Lupe reaches her foot over the bench seat to kick at Jess’s thigh. It leaves a dirty shoe print on her pants.
“Jesus,” Jess chastises, fondly.
“You know, I could teach you how to drive one of these days, if you wanted,” she offers. Lupe grumbles, leans her head back against the passenger side window.
“I know how to drive,” she protests, which is a definite lie.
Jess pulls Bev’s car over to the side of the road, shuts the engine off. She holds the keys out to Lupe, offering.
“I don’t feel like it, right now,” Lupe insists. She slouches down further in her seat, rests her head against her hand like she means to take a nap. Scrunches up her eyes.
Jess chuckles to herself, starts the engine back up. Pulls back onto the road. She’ll drive about halfway to Chicago, she decides. Lupe will be asleep by then, and Jess will be ready to head home.