When Jacob opened his door, Professor Klein sat upright, sniffling. He shoved a hanky into his jacket pocket. His eyes were puffy and red. Was he... was he crying?

 

"Hey," Jacob said as he got in the car. "You okay, man?"

 

The professor gazed down at Jacob's high tops. "Your shoes are wet now. And your pants! Are you trying to get frostbite, or are you just abominably stupid?"

 

Geeze! Didn't this guy realize Jacob was doing him a favour by riding shotgun? Did he have to be so rude? Jacob tried not to respond in kind, but he found himself saying, "Why are you being such a dick? The heater can dry my shoes. Fuck! I'm not an idiot."

 

"The heater won't be on for long. If I don't turn the engine off soon, we'll burn off every bit of gas in the tank, and when the storm finally clears we'll be stuck out here."

 

Jacob hadn't considered that the blizzard might last longer than a couple minutes, but the professor's warning reminded him of something he'd heard on the news last winter: an entire highway in Quebec was closed down for a matter of days by a blizzard so dense even emergency vehicles couldn't make it through. Hadn't people died in their cars? Jacob thought he remembered hearing that a few drivers had frozen to death.

 

"Maybe we should try driving some more," Jacob suggested. "How far are we from the nearest town?"

 

"I haven't the faintest idea. I couldn't see road signs. That's part of the reason I pulled over. I couldn't see a thing."

 

Jacob took off his shoes and pressed his feet to the heating vents.

 

"Thank you," the professor said. "That's lovely."

 

"I want to dry my socks before we turn off the car."

 

The professor sighed. "Very well. That's probably a smart idea."

 

Finally Jacob wasn't being called an idiot. He smiled smugly, and then felt guilty, though her wasn't sure why. "We're in for a long night, huh?"

 

"It would seem so."