“Tell me again why we aren’t crossing here?” Kurt asked, watching as the Detroit exit labeled “Bridge to Canada” flew past them.
“It’s a shorter drive from the other bridge!” Blaine said cheerfully, more focus on the road than on Kurt. “We’ll shave about half an hour from our travel time if we cross from Port Huron instead of Detroit.”
“Even when you factor in the hour of drive time between Detroit and Port Huron?”
The silence from the driver’s seat made Kurt turn and look at Blaine’s comically dismayed expression.
“Apparently not,” Kurt sighed. “Oh well. It’s probably better to stop in some podunk town than in the middle of Detroit for the night anyways.”
“For sure!” Blaine agreed, much peppier than Kurt expected. “I mean, God only knows what goes on here, right?”
“I was just looking for the bright side of this, B, not seriously opposed to staying in Detroit,” Kurt said, bemused. “Are you afraid of the city or something? Because we live in one of the biggest urban centers in the world.”
“No, it’s not - I thought you were - I may have had more than just travel time in mind when I was Googling routes to Canada on my phone the other day,” Blaine said, thunking his hand against the steering wheel from where he’d been gesturing vaguely.