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CHAPTER 4 Sunday
5:45 P.M.
We tracked the taco smell down two blocks over from the historic downtown. And as we rounded the corner, we were back in the twenty-first century. On the other side of some bushes was a strip mall. Dollar General, Payday Loan & Check Cashing, a discount tobacco shop, a nail salon. And like the stores we’d seen on the main street, they were also all closed.
But that didn’t really matter because there, in the parking lot, was a woman behind a folding table, making tacos. There was a grill with meat cooking on it, and the most amazing aroma wafting toward us. My stomach rumbled as I breathed it in, which made sense, since the last time I’d eaten had been at eleven a.m.—a fifteen-dollar pizza slice and seven-dollar can of soda.
There were a surprising number of cars in a parking lot where no stores were open, but a second later, I understood why. We weren’t the only ones who thought tacos would be a great idea—there was a line of people waiting that had to be ten deep. I could see some people eating right there, sitting in their cars or on the little raised concrete barriers in front of parking spots.
“What do you think?” Russell asked.
“I think yes please,” I said, and he laughed. We could have walked around to the street entrance to the strip mall, but we both headed toward the scrubby knee-high bushes, cutting through to the parking lot.
He stepped through them first, then turned back and extended his hand to me.
My pulse started to pick up, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. And then I reached out and took Russell’s hand.
As soon as our palms touched and his fingers closed around mine, I felt a jolt run through me—like it went from my fingertips directly into my chest. And I flashed back to the bus station, when I’d somehow known that it would be like this if we touched. That it would be electric.
Russell’s hand was big, almost enveloping mine—and I was so distracted by the fact that we were touching, that his hand was on my hand, that I wasn’t paying any attention to what my feet were doing. I tripped over a rock and stumbled forward—but then Russell’s arm was suddenly around my back, catching me.
“You okay?”
I looked up at him and nodded. My heart was thumping wildly in my chest, in full-on dance party mode—because flight was certainly the last thing on my mind. His arm was all the way around my waist and I was pulled in close to him, closer than I had yet been.
I could see now that there were little flecks of gold in the blue-green of his eyes. There were faint freckles scattered on his cheeks, an unplotted constellation. I wanted to trace it with my eyelashes. I wanted to run my fingers over it until I had it memorized.
As he’d wrapped his arm around my waist, my tank top must have gotten pushed up, because I could feel that part of his hand was touching the bare skin on my back, making it feel like it was on fire. His other hand was still holding on to mine, and I could feel the blood pulsing in my fingertips—I was pretty sure I could feel his, too. I wasn’t sure how any of this had happened, but I didn’t want it to ever stop.
Russell was looking down at me, and I could see he was breathing a little harder now. I was too, like it was taking more of an effort just to be this close to him. And for a second, I thought about stretching up on my toes so that our faces would be level. I was so close to kissing him—only a few inches, a breath, and a bit of courage away. I could practically hear the orchestra starting to swell, the music kicking in…
Yes! Katy swooned. Kiss him kiss him!
No. Darcy. Stop behaving like a damsel in distress, Didi admonished.
Shh! Katy said. Go for it, Darcy.
But then Russell blinked and looked away from me, breaking this moment. He released his arm and I stepped down onto the asphalt of the parking lot. He held my hand a second longer, then let it go. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh.” I tucked my hands into the back pockets of my jean shorts. Normally, I would have been blushing up a storm. But I somehow didn’t feel embarrassed—just disappointed that his hand wasn’t holding mine anymore, that his fingers weren’t brushing against my bare skin.… I tried to compose myself. “Sorry about that. And thank you.”
“Sure,” he said. “My pleasure.” We were still standing maybe a step closer than we needed to—it was a large parking lot, after all—and his eyes lingered on mine for a moment, then dropped down to my mouth before he looked away.
I felt a swelling in my chest and smiled—clearly, we were on the same page with the whole wanting-to-kiss-each-other thing. I had to fight down a wave of incredulous, happy laughter. How had this happened? How had the worst situation I’d ever been in turned around so decisively into one of the best? “Okay,” I said, really needing to focus now. “So. Tacos.”
We headed across the parking lot together, now definitely walking a little closer than we had been before, like we’d somehow crossed a threshold. Like I was pretty sure that wouldn’t be the last time we touched. That there was more coming at some point.
When? Katy demanded.
We got in line, and the sheer number of people, combined with the truly heavenly smell, was convincing me that this was the right thing to do—and so much better than anything we could have gotten from a vending machine.
There was a chalkboard easel with a menu written on it. And as I scanned it, I crashed back down to earth. I had been so focused on the tacos—and then on Russell, his hands and eyes and heartbeat—that I’d forgotten about things like commerce.
The woman behind the table was selling tacos, burritos, muletas, tamales, and quesadillas. All of them were much cheaper than anything at the festival had been. But none of them were free, which meant I needed to do some math. I silently cursed Romy as I pulled my remaining cash out of my shorts pocket.
“What looks good?” Russell said, squinting at the sign. “I’m suddenly starving.”
“Me too. I’m just… okay. So I have thirty-two dollars.”
