Eclipse Of The Moon ~ Book 1 of Aaron
Chapter 20
Westbound Headed

⚠️ Temporary note:
I don't know what's wrong with Wattpad, but as I pasted the chapter from my Word file, it kept skipping entire sentences or paragraphs. Although I double-checked everything, please let me know if you notice incoherent things or paragraphs with missing spaces. Thank you!

Sunday 29 December 2002

"Wake up, Boy. We're in Phoenix."

The man's deep voice and a gentle nudge in my shoulder tear me out of my sleep with a start, and I quickly get aware again of the surrounding noises that have become quite familiar to me over the last two months. Noises that consist in background music, voices coming from the CD radio and the loud roaring of the truck motor. These sounds have been my daily life ever since I left Bellmawr on October 31st, jumping from one truck or car to another, so they don't bother me anymore.

In the beginning, I just couldn't fall asleep in trucks because of these noises, though not only. I was mostly scared of what could happen while I was asleep. Like everyone else, I had heard about how dangerous it can be to hitchhike, because if drivers fear who they might pick up in their car or truck, the reverse is true as well. Hitchhikers never know if the person who allows them in their vehicle doesn't have hidden intentions. You could be mugged, assaulted, raped or even killed, so your mind doesn't really let you rest.

During the first entire month, I always stayed on the alert and never allowed myself to sleep while being trucked, but I have learned to relax a bit more. Judging by appearances is not the best idea, but if I feel comfortable enough around the driver, if the person looks fine, I allow myself to let loose a bit, but I always have my knife in hand, hidden inside the pocket of my coat.

As the big truck exits Interstate 10 to take the frontage road, I completely wake up and take in my surroundings. The dry landscape is certainly a change from New Jersey! The arid roadsides are surprisingly bordered by plants and bushes I wouldn't be able to name, when I thought it would be totally desert. The man beside me lets out a loud yawn as he eventually takes a left and heads south. 

"I'm going to take a nap before I drive the last section to Vegas!" he says, when we approach the giant parking space dedicated to truckers. "This is the furthest I can take you, Boy. It's the last stop before I head up north. You need to stay on this motorway to reach LA, but I'm sure you'll find someone going there in any case!"

"Yes, thank you so much for the ride anyway, George!!" I reply cheerfully.

George is one sort of drivers I would have liked to meet more often since I left the East Coast. For one, he is rather the quiet one, and barely spoke to me at all in the almost thirty-six hours we spent together, he didn't ask the ever-recurrent questions I don't want to answer.

Where are you from? How old are you? You don't look 18, do your parents know where you are? Why did you run away from your home? What are you going to do in Los Angeles? And worst question ever: what do I get in return?

These are some of the questions I have kept getting each time I approach a driver and ask if they are headed toward California and would be willing to accept a passenger in their car or their truck. I always promise that my duffle bag and I will make ourselves small and quiet, and that I just don't have money to pay for the ride, setting things clear from the start.

Most of the time, I get a Go away! plain and simple. Sometimes, there is a yes, but they want a counterpart, in cash or sex, which I always refuse. Often enough, they accept because these people get lonely and they just want to talk – such rides are a pain because I would rather they shut up. And on rarer occasions, I found people like George who just don't mind sharing the truck cabin with someone else as long as the other someone remains quiet.

To be honest, I am quite tempted to follow him to Las Vegas. Ever since we left the area of San Antonio yesterday morning, it's been a pleasure to ride with him. I was able to admire the landscape or just catch up on sleep which I have missed recently. Whether on a ride, just outside in a park or wherever I could crash, I never truly allowed myself to completely fall into a deep restorative slumber, because you never know what could happen. But with George, it's been different.

His warm and compassionate face quickly gained my trust, which might have turned out dangerous – appearances can be deceiving – but I felt I could trust him.The other positive point was that being an almost retired man, George often had to stop to rest for a couple of hours, which explains why it took us almost 36 hours to reach Phoenix, but for once I could stay with the same person for such a long distance, I couldn't resist.

Almost one thousand miles!!! The more I had gotten so far was barely two hundred miles, going either northwest or southwest. No wonder it's taken me so long from New Jersey to reach Arizona, but for one, I wasn't in a hurry, so I took my time and selected my drivers very carefully and didn't mind crisscrossing the lower half of the United States. And then, well you just do with what you find. When you finally meet someone who accepts to take you on their vehicle, as long as it's more or less westbound, you just go with the flow, even if it's only for thirty miles.

Following George to Las Vegas would take me a bit further west, but also much further north. The dilemma I have is that today is December 29th, and as much as I was in no specific hurry to reach LA in the beginning, I have still set myself the goal to start the new year in the City of Angels. I am now only 300 miles from my destination, but if I make another stop in Vegas, I probably won't make it in time, so I eventually decide to not ask my driver if I can abuse his generosity further. Instead, I gather my belongings, bid my goodbye to George and head toward the convenience center.

Pilot Travel Centers can be great places. These are huge parking lots for travelers, especially truckers, where they can spend the night safely in the cabins of their trucks and enjoy the facilities that provide catering as well as bathrooms and various other services. To me, as a homeless, it's a great place where I can shower easily, feed myself with cheap enough food, and find a discreet area to settle down and get some sleep. It's also a great resource for drivers who will accept to pick me up. This one in Avondale, Arizona, looks just as fine as the previous ones I visited in the last two months.

Since it's already close to midnight, I doubt I will be able to find another driver as most of those who have stopped here will stay for the night. I could give a try at the gas station with one of those who visit just to fill their tanks, but I decide otherwise and think I should make better use of my time here before I arrive in LA. I first go to Subway to get myself a sandwich, and then to the building that offers amenities. Once I have started a washing machine of all my dirty clothes at the laundromat, I quickly go to the shower facility where I lock myself in one of the stalls with my duffle bag.

I haven't properly cleaned up in three days now, only using restrooms for a quick wash, so I definitely appreciate the luxury of a good and warm shower tonight. I know this is time-limited, but I still manage to shampoo my hair, clean my body and relax my muscles. Once in Los Angeles, I don't know what I should expect, but I can imagine the first few days might be difficult until I can truly organize myself, so let's enjoy this while I can.

When I am finally dressed, I return to the laundromat to transfer my clothes from the washing machine to the tumble dryer and gather some courage to drag myself to the phone room. I can't help a sigh; calling my friends has become more of a chore because of how this is going to end up in anger, scolding and pleas on their side, and in tears, sadness and emptiness on mine.

My eardrums still remember the first time I called them...

I had posted their letter from Bellmawr the same afternoon I left Collingswood for Mark's attention at his parents' address, since it was the safest place to send it to, and I had given myself a few days before I would call them. I knew the guys would be angry at me, so I thought it would be a good idea to wait for them to calm down a notch before talking to them over the phone. The thing is that after a week, I was barely in Harrisburg, which was still too close to New Jersey for my taste. Hitchhiking definitely doesn't work that great when you're inexperienced and quite picky on your drivers.

When I called Joshua's mobile phone only two weeks later from a phone booth at a gas station on Interstate 76, needless to say I got one of the worst scoldings ever. My friends were having their lunchbreak at the cafeteria as usual, but they left the place right away when I announced myself, to get more privacy and let out their anger.

"Hey, Josh... It's Aaron..." 

"You little shit, Ron... you'd better hang on while we get out of the cafeteria!" Joshua seethed in a low tone. There was the ramble of chairs and a lot of groaning and cursing, until I heard Josh speaking again. "I really hate you right now, Aaron Cox! You have no idea!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US? TWO FUCKING WEEKS WITHOUT NEWS FROM YOU!! ARE YOU CRAZY OR WHAT!?"

"Josh!!! Don't yell!!" I tried to interrupt him, fearing he might get eavesdropped.

"DON'T YELL? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE HOW WE'VE BEEN WORRYING!? TWO FUCKING WEEKS!!!! YOU HAD PROMISED YOU WOULDN'T DO ANYTHING STUPID!!!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, you can be sorry! FUCK!!!! We thought something might have happened! Tony even started searching you!!"

"What? No!!! Tell him not to do that, Josh! I did ask you not to tell him!"

"But what did you think, you dickhead!? That we wouldn't worry? Can you just try and imagine all the scenarios that went through our heads? You could have been abducted, beaten up or even killed!! How did you expect us to react?" Josh argued angrily. Now put this way, I could understand their concern and terribly regretted I hadn't given news any earlier. "I had convinced Tony not to search for you in the beginning, telling him we should respect your choice, but after a few days not hearing from you, we just grew crazy! It even made Mark sick!!"

"Josh!! Don't tell him that!!" I heard Mark say, but I was already collapsing on the floor of the phonebooth and sobbing too hardly to say anything.

I was realizing how worried they must have been, and I would have reacted similarly in their place. I was already missing them badly but knowing I had hurt them this way only added to my guilt.

"Ron, it's Cam..." a hoarse voice suddenly echoed into the speaker while I could still hear Joshua ramble on and on in the background. "Please, come back..."

"I can't..."

"I swear if I had you right in front of me at the moment, I would beat the crap out of you!" Cam muttered in a definitely stronger voice. "How could you leave like this? How could you break our group? How could you abandon us?" he added, the firm voice breaking down. "Not even a proper goodbye..."

"I'm sorry, Cam... I had no other choice..."

"Ugh..." he groaned in frustration before Mark picked up the phone.

"Hey Ron... How are you doing? Where are you? Are you safe?" he asked.

"Holy shit... I didn't even ask..." I heard Joshua say apologetically.

"I'm okay. I'm really sorry I didn't reach out earlier, I wanted to go the furthest I could first, but things are not always easy. I'm really cautious on the drivers I select while I hitchhike, and I haven't gone very far for now..."

"Then come back... I'm sure we could find other solutions... My parents are willing to host you at home."

"Impossible, Mark."

"There must be another way... If only I'd guessed that morning... when we met before school..." he whispers, his voice filled with painful emotion. "You'd already decided to leave, right?"

"I'm so sorry, Marky..."

"Come back, Ron. I swear my parents would gladly help..."

"Thank them for me, but I can't stay in New Jersey anymore... How are things going on over there?"

The guys then told me a bit about how my departure was apprehended in Collingswood. It seems like my parents reported my escape as soon as they found my letter in the evening when I didn't show up for dinner. The police questioned my friends that same day, so before Mark even received the letter I sent for them, but of course, they didn't know anything at the time. Thank goodness for the Murrays' openness, they didn't pressure Mark into revealing the letter to the police the following day, and ever since then, they have just said the plain truth whenever the police came to ask for an update, saying they hadn't heard back from me at all.

Since I was never overly popular at school, rumors quickly faded there, and other students didn't ask too many questions. Danny took my departure well enough, in the sense that we weren't a real couple, which I am glad for. He had been worrying though, so the guys would only tell him I was fine, without providing more details.

The conversation ended rather abruptly as the bell rang and it was time for them to return to class, but they made me promise to call at least twice a week, even if it was for only a few seconds to save money, and I accepted when they said it was merely for reassurance purposes, because they needed to know I was safe. In return, Joshua promised he would convince Tony to stop searching for me. I also made them all swear they would rock their asses at school. I was one to talk, I know... but I truly wanted them to succeed where I failed.

Ever since then, I have mostly managed to fulfill this duty, whenever I can manage to be by a payphone around 1pm eastern time. Our conversations never last for very long, mostly because I can't afford to spend too much in phone communications or because Josh is calling me back, but I don't want his phone bill to get too high and raise suspicions from his parents. Whatever their length though, the guys always manage to scold me a bit and beg me to return, which only aggravates my poor state of mind and my guilt. I keep telling them I can't back away, but despite my anger and pleas, they keep trying at it.

Above all, these conversations usually leave me even sadder and more anxious, bursting into tears as soon as they are over. It always takes me a couple of hours to get myself together after them and find the courage to move on. Many times, I have almost pulled back, looking for a truck headed eastbound to return to my friends because I truly miss them, but just thinking that it would be too many risks to get caught and brought back to my parents – and the consequences it would have – makes me turn back to the west and move on.

However, tonight I realize it's a bit late to call Joshua. It's past midnight here now, and since New Jersey is two hours ahead of me, it's not a decent time to call, so I decide to postpone this to tomorrow. Instead, I return to the laundromat and wait for the tumble dryer to end its cycle. Having slept most of the afternoon and evening in George's truck, I don't feel tired, which allows me to entirely empty my duffle bag, and reorganize it with all the clean clothes better folded.

After that, I find a quiet spot on another parking lot across this one, which is reserved to cars, and let myself drift to sleep, my head more or less comfortably settled on my bag and wrapped in my blanket because it's quite cold tonight. As usual, I don't get into deep slumber and I wake up every other half hour, or whenever a suspicious noise reaches my subconscious. It's not even the first rays of light that definitely wake me up at 5am, but rather the noise of trucks setting off for their next destination. It's still dark outside, but I curse myself for having maybe missed the driver who could take me to LA.

I hurry to put my blanket back into my duffle bag and rush to the main parking lot for trucks. I stop by the public restrooms to relieve myself, refresh quickly at the sink and refill my flask with water. I also straighten my clothes and run my fingers through my hair, just to look decent enough and gain drivers' confidence more easily. Another short halt at the general store provides me with a cappuccino for my breakfast, a new pack of cigarettes, and two wrapped club sandwiches for lunch and dinner. Once in a truck, you never know when the next break will be or where you will be dropped off.

Sadly, it seems like I won't go anywhere today. After a few "go to hell!", "Not taking passengers", "Show me your ass first", and what not, not mentioning all the scary faces I come across, I feel like I will never be able to make it to LA as I wanted. With New Year's Eve being tomorrow, I'm afraid it won't help as most of the truck drivers will stop their activity and go home tonight to be with their families and friends to celebrate 2003.

I also wish I would be with my friends tomorrow night, but I know it's going to be a lonesome festivity on my side unfortunately.

Fuck! I miss them so much!

In the middle of the afternoon, after so many fruitless attempts, I go to the phone room and enter a free booth to dial Joshua's mobile number. The guys are now on their Christmas break, so he's probably the only one I will be able to talk to today.

"Aaron, please tell me it's you and you're safe!!" my friend breathes out as he picks up the call.

"Yeah it's me... And I'm okay..." I reply warily.

"You Dumbass! It's been six days since your last call!! You're supposed to call twice a week!" he whisper-growls. I guess either his mother or Liz must be close by.

"Six days? That long?" I exclaim, dubious on the time lapse, but as I ponder on it, it's true the last time I called was on Christmas Eve. "Shit! I'm sorry Josh! I skipped the second call because I was too busy finding a lift further west last week... Then I was with the same driver for a couple days, and it was late last night when we stopped..."

"I already told you, you can call at any time of day or night! Even if I don't answer, just leave a fucking message so that we don't worry!"

"Yeah, yeah, sorry... I'll think about it next time," I apologize, turning around and leaning against the phone machine.

"Right... How are you doing? And where are you now? Have you arrived in LA?"

"Not yet, I'm in Phoenix right now," I sigh. "I've spent most of the day getting told off or avoiding people that don't look trustworthy. It sucks! I really wanted to start the new year in Los Angeles. I might go for just anyone..."

"No way! Don't do that! Make sure you select the right persons, you've done great so far and remained safe, please keep it like that. I swear this is stressful enough to know you're hitchhiking... Fuck! You're sure you don't want me to send you cash so that you can take a plane, or at least the train?" he offers pleadingly.

"Josh, you know I can't do that..." I sigh again.

He knows I can't take long-distance public transportation, as they will request my ID. While in Saint Louis, I even tried the Greyhound buses, thinking I could use them to go faster, but when the lady at the counter asked for my ID, I backed off, saying I didn't have it.

I suddenly notice a blond-haired man at another booth across from me who seems to be paying more attention to my conversation with Joshua than to his own interlocutor. He may be one hot piece of meat, but I still turn around and continue through whispers.

"How are you and the guys doing?"

"Quite okay, we're missing you," he sighs in his turn.

"But apart from that?"

"Not much, we're on vacation. Sony has been quite sick, so Cam is stuck at home taking care of him most of the time. Mark's pretty busy at the restaurant with his parents, but they'll be off starting tonight and will only reopen on January 3rd, so he'll be able to breathe a bit. And as for me, well I've been working my ass off to prepare the next semester... I need the best grades if I want to stand a chance at enrolling in Yale..."

"I'm sure you can do this, Bro!" I encourage him. "How's it going with your father?"

"Oh, he's still firm on the University of Pennsylvania, but I'll convince him at some point! Knowing that Mark will be in New York next year and that Cam will be either in Boston or Miami, I'm not spending the next years in my family!"

"Yeah... I can imagine... What have you planned for tomorrow night?"

"Oh..." he trails off, and I can sense some hesitation in his voice.

"What? Are your parents dragging you to one of those uptight families' again?" I chuckle.

"No, no... It's... Well, I managed to convince them to go without me. I told them I was 17 and old enough to spend New Year's Eve with my friends... or at least two of them," he replies warily, and at the same time, my heart constricts in my chest when I understand what it means.

We've never been allowed to celebrate New Year's Eve together before, and I doubt my parents would have ever let me if I had stayed, but I still hurt at the thought that they will be together, and I won't.

"Mark's parents accepted and Cam's mother doesn't give a fuck about where he'll be, so..." he confirms.

A lump forms in my throat and tears begin to fill my eyes.

"Oh, that's cool!" I try to cheer, but my strangled voice betrays me.

"Yeah... It would have been cooler if you'd been with us, Ron," Joshua sighs with regret. "We miss you so much. Things aren't the same without you..."

I don't know what to reply to this. I could argue that at least, they are together while I am alone, but it wouldn't be fair. It was my decision to run away from New Jersey and my best friends. Even if I still believe I didn't have other options, it's no reason to blame them for enjoying time together. Besides, Joshua is sincere when he says they're missing me, and I'm sure things must be truly different without me, because we are a group of four, and whoever is missing affects the whole group.

"We'll be thinking of you a lot, Ron-Ron, you know?" Joshua continues in a barely audible whisper, hiding the quaver in his voice.

"I'll be thinking of you too..." I reply.

A few minutes later, after more comforting words on both sides and promises to call as soon as I arrive in LA, Joshua and I hang up. There are too many people in the phone room, so I try to hold the tears threatening to spill and hurry outside, then look for a quiet spot behind the main building of the station. The pang in my heart stings so badly that I let myself collapse on the ground and against a wall, and allow my sorrow to creep out of my eyes.

Curled up with my knees against my chest, I stay there for long minutes, smoking two cigarettes and waiting for the usual pain to recede gradually. Like each time I get to speak with the guys, I feel empty because without their presence, it's like a huge part of myself is missing, and at the same time, there is this oppressing sensation making my chest constrict and hurt terribly. And yet, however painful these moments are, I need these calls more than anything else because they allow me to keep a connection with the most important bits of my past.

I will certainly think a lot about Joshua, Mark and Camden tomorrow evening, knowing they will be celebrating New Year's Eve together while I am stuck here, brooding. 

No! I can't let that happen!

Running away from my family was my decision to reach for a better future, to start a new life somewhere else. That somewhere is Los Angeles and I can't not be there to begin the new year in the best way! Come on, Aaron! Man up! 2003 will be a turning point in your life, one that will allow you to lead the wild life you have been dreaming of!

Rekindled by this sudden urge for my dreams to become true, I rise to my feet, wipe the few remaining tears from my cheeks and head toward the lines of trucks at the gas station, determined to pick just any driver going to LA who will accept me. I am ready for anything. I won't care about what the guy looks like, I have my knife in my pocket and can defend myself in case of problems. All that matters is that I reach the Californian city before tomorrow evening.

Just as I am turning around the corner of the building, I bump into someone and almost fall over, caught up just in time by a firm hand that helps me to recover my balance. I quickly apologize to the man, without even looking at him, and start for the gas station, but he grabs my arm and pulls me back.

"Hey..." he says gently.

I am facing the gorgeous blonde who was clearly eavesdropping my conversation with Josh earlier in the phone room. The man is tall, though probably only an inch taller than me, his emerald-green eyes peering into mine, but I don't let him impress me and yank my arm back, putting a bit more distance between us.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" he exclaims with a pleasant and warm voice, a hint of humor in his tone.

"You didn't," I reply defiantly.

"Listen, I happen to have heard you're headed to Los Angeles? And looking for a lift there?"

"What does it matter to you?"

"Nothing, but it turns out I'm driving to the Angeles forest, and I could drop you off in San Bernardino. From there, you can easily use the train or the bus to reach LA..." he offers. His tone is detached and casual, but I wonder about his honesty.

"I don't have money to pay you," I lie. The truth is I still have a lot of money, but I refuse to spend a cent on these transfers because I will need it later.

"There are other ways..." he smirks. Of course! It was too good to be true!

"Well, you can go fuck yourself because I'm not letting you fuck me!" I grunt, already starting for the gas station for other options.

"Who talked about fucking?" he calls out, following me. "Just a little blowjob... Even if you're not gay, it shouldn't be that difficult..."

"I'm no prostitute!"

"I'm not saying you are! It would just be a little compensation for a service I'm providing! I'm not even asking for you to swallow my load!" he replies. I am almost shocked by such crudeness and stop in my tracks to face him with a smug smile.

"You must be really desperate..." I smirk in my turn.

"Haven't had sex in a month, and you're pretty cute, so..." he replies contritely. I haven't had any form of sex other than jacking off in two months, but I'm not that desperate! "I wouldn't even mind returning you the favor," he adds as an afterthought.

Okay, the guy is really handsome, in his mid-twenties I would say, but I can't cheapen myself to this sort of acts, and yet, I can feel my cock begin to swell when I imagine his plump lips around my shaft.

Ugh! I've got to get away from this man!

"I'm not interested!" I grumble, starting off again toward the station.

"If you change your mind, I'll be at Subway! I'm not leaving until 6am!!" he calls out, but I ignore him.

Once among all the trucks queuing to fill tanks, I approach a woman in her forties and looking very masculine with her flashy red crewcut. She is currently checking a tire of her huge vehicle.

"Hi, Ma'am... Sorry to disturb you..." I begin to ask.

"I'm not taking hitchhikers," she says dryly, without even looking at me.

"Okay, no problem... Thanks," I sigh and move on to another truck in the next line. The man is smoking a cigarette outside of his rig and looks amenable enough. "Good afternoon, Sir... Sorry to disturb you. By any chance, do you accept passengers?"

"Depends," he replies, checking me out seriously. "You look correct, so I might. Where are you headed to, young man?"

"Los Angeles, Sir."

"Ah sorry then, my next destination is Santa Fe, quite the opposite."

"Okay, never mind. Thank you anyway, Sir," I reply politely.

The next twenty attempts are just as unsuccessful, so I give a try to the car parking lot. On this one are smaller trucks, vans, campers and just regular cars. I usually avoid the latter, especially if there are little kids because they can be quite annoying, but travelling with salespersons can be fine. You usually spot them thanks to their business outfits and pretty looks. Sadly, I can't find any today, but this is not surprising seeing today's date. Instead, there are many families on their way to see close relatives or friends, so I fall back on vans and smaller trucks, but don't get any luckier here.

After a couple of hours asking the same questions again and again, and getting the same answers, more or less friendly when not aggressive, I am starting to get depressed. On the verge of tears, I return to the truck parking lot, and give a few more attempts before I resolve to go get myself a warm drink at the general store of the station.

The same blond man is here again.

He is apparently buying junk food, probably some sort of comfort to go through the ride. As the coffee vending machine prepares my latte macchiato, I peek at him strolling along the aisles and picking cookies, sweets, chips and whatever. His checked shirt hugs a nice and firm chest it seems, too bad the hem hides his backside, because I would have liked to ogle this part too.

He is totally the type of guy I would go to if I was on a flirting mood. The way he scratches the back of his head while pondering on which of a Snickers or a KitKat bar he should pick, furrowing his eyebrows, is sexy as fuck. He eventually opts for the red package, and when his tongue flicks over his lips, my cock twitches in my pants.

Shit! What should I do?

If he'd come to me in a bar or anywhere else to flirt, I would have gladly followed him for a blowjob and maybe even more. Is it that much shameful to do this in return for a lift to LA? Would I be able to put my pride aside if it can allow me to be where I want to be by tomorrow?

I need to decide quickly though because the man has just finished checking out and is returning to his truck now...

Staying here alone for another night with little chance to be in Los Angeles before January 1st?

Or accepting to give head to a gorgeous truck driver who will bring me close enough to LA by tomorrow afternoon the latest?

The choice is easily made.

Published on 17 September 2019

Ok, so this chapter has been Aaron's life for the past two months (waiting, driving, getting rejections, surviving, depressing, calling his friends, etc), so there was no need to detail it in many chapters. He's finally reaching his destination and I'd like to draw your attention to the upcoming themed chapters I mentioned earlier.

As you may know, Los Angeles is nicknamed the City of Angels, so there you go with five chapters that will be named The City Of... depending on their theme. These chapters cover about six months until Aaron meets his Good Samaritan, and as you can guess, they will show Aaron's gradual downfall.

Some readers asked for the guys' POV on the moment they realized Aaron had left, suggesting a one-shot. For the moment, Aaron's memory of their first conversation is all that's planned, but in the future, I may use the book of One Shots to add a chapter. Later though, because I really need to catch up on rereading the previous books and plan the rest of his second book, which is taking me ages.

Also, a quick note on this chapter: before I wrote it, I made a lot of research on the internet and read several blogs from Nomads and hitchhikers who traveled across the USA, finding inspiration and advice in their writings, which was super interesting. Two months may sound like a lot, but in fact, knowing Aaron was picky on his drivers and inexperienced, crisscrossing the southern half of the US, it is quite logical.

Lastly, I'd like to share a few pictures. If you've read my notes in the past, you know that I use Google Street View a lot since these are all places I've never been, and of course, I did the same as I wrote this chapter.

So here are two pictures of the landscape Aaron mentions as George pulls out of the highway just after Phoenix.

And then a  few pictures of the Pilot Travel Center in Avondale.

And here's the last bid of drive from Phoenix to Los Angeles