He really couldn't say anything about how people measured; he usually gauged distance in relative minutes or so. Miles seemed so finite, so Jesse thought minutes seemed easier to digest.

Bundle of nerves doesn't describe him accurately. He's freaked. It was already getting dark enough outside, and he's nowhere near enough in control of himself to think that this was a good idea. This had bad idea written all over it, but life around these parts seemed to be a series of bad idea, so what was adding one more to the list?

"Right, camping." He tries to smile, but it doesn't come out as happy as it should. "Except for the fact that I could potentially kill you. No big deal."