Luna spun around and glared at Owen. She had an expression of anger so electric, Owen would later imagine that she had flames in her eyes. But despite the look of fury, her voice remained measured—disturbingly so, Owen thought.
“You will stop. Now,” Luna commanded.
Anyone else would have found Luna terrifying in that moment.
“That was amazing,” Owen said, beaming. “Do it again!”
Luna fought back a smile, her fury extinguished. It was almost embarrassing how quickly her mood shifted. Only Owen could do that.
“I have an idea,” Owen said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Out where?”
“Who cares where we go? We’ll have an adventure.”
“I need a shower,” said Luna.
“Shower. Then adventure.”
* * *
—
Owen and Luna had no plan or destination in mind. Owen got behind the wheel and Luna navigated according to some vague directional whim.
Right, left. Straight. Keep going straight. Stay on this road no matter what. It’s going to take us somewhere.
They stopped for coffee in Rhinebeck. Owen insisted they go to the café that had a line out the door, because clearly that’s where the good coffee was. While the pair were queued up, Luna noticed that every time she moved, Owen closed the gap between them, standing way too close, as if he was blocking her back from the light. Luna could feel him there hovering. She scowled. Generally Owen respected her space but never when they were in line.
“What are you doing?” Luna asked.
“What?” Owen said.
“Why are you always right there? You have a space problem.”
Owen took a step back. “No. You have the space problem. You get really jumpy when people stand behind you. I figured I was better than a stranger. That’s why I do it. Remember when you shouted spaceman at that guy when we were waiting to take our school ID photos?” Owen said, laughing.
“I said, ‘Space, comma, man,’？” Luna said.
“I know. But it wasn’t clear to him,” Owen said. “Or anyone else.”
Luna, recalling all the times Owen had played bodyguard to her neuroses, smiled and punched him in the arm. “That’s weirdly nice of you.”
“It’s for the greater good,” Owen said.
Luna thought about it, sighing, exhausted by her own neuroses. “I’ve got a lot of things, don’t I?”
“You do,” Owen said. “It’s so awesome.”
Owen and Luna ordered drip coffee, deciding not to wait for anything fancy. They strolled down Market Street, searching for something to do that was both diverting and inexpensive. They soon realized that nothing fit the bill. They returned to the car and kept driving.
Owen checked on Luna out of the corner of his eye. She was gazing out the window, lost somewhere else. She was so inaccessible in that moment that Owen felt lonely.
“What are you thinking?” Owen said.
He’d never asked that question before. His last girlfriend asked that question so often, he’d had to admonish her to quit. That question was, in fact, a secondary reason for their breakup.
“Huh?” Luna said.
“You looked like you were thinking something specific.”
“I think when you think, it’s always specific at the time.”
“Well, what was it, specifically, in that moment?” Owen said.
Luna wasn’t going to answer that question. There were certain questions she never answered. For instance, if someone called her and said, What are you up to? Luna always said, Nothing, even if she was most definitely up to something. If someone inquired about her academic performance, she would tell them her average was a solid B/B-, even if she scored all A’s that semester. When questioned about her general well-being, she responded like someone living out her final decade. I’m still here.
But the question What are you thinking always got under Luna’s skin. It seemed that whenever she was asked that question, she was thinking something so private and shameful that she couldn’t possibly ever share. Caught unaware, she always responded with cheap lies. I was thinking what a beautiful day it is; I was thinking about how I should shave my legs this week; I was thinking about making a dentist appointment.
Luna was generally against lying, considering her past. Although she didn’t take as hard a stance as Kant. Some questions, Luna thought, invited a lie. Although she didn’t lie to Owen.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Luna said. “It’s my favorite thing about my brain. No one else is in it or has access to it. It’s mine alone.”