DESI
“Take a left here,”Scout said. “You’ve never been to this part of town, have you?”
“Why do you ask?” I gripped the wheel tighter. My hands were damp with sweat, and I was sure she could tell I was nervous.
“You look lost. A little scared.”
I gulped. I had somehow managed to get this beautiful woman to agree to let me take her home. But what now? I wasn’t familiar with this anymore. My stomach muscles were tight with nerves. It was like my entire being could feel her presence just feet away calling to me. My fingers twitched at the wheel, begging for me to make a move.
“I didn’t realize that wasn’t your house I was calling.” My cheeks flared, recalling just moments ago when she asked me to stop calling a stranger’s house looking for her. “It was the only name in the phone book that fit.”
Her hands quickly covered a gasp, followed by a fit of giggles. “You did not!”
“I did,” I admitted.
“What would you have said if I had answered?” Her accent, while hardly there, was pleasant and almost warm as she asked.
“I have no fucking clue.” I drove on, the tension now gone, and eventually, much to my dismay, we pulled into the driveway of a small, white house. I put the car in park and shut it off. We stared at each other and then back at the house.
It was a stark difference from the homes in my neighborhood. Would she invite me in?
“You left a light on.” I pointed to the window.
“That’s my roommate. She stays up late.”
“The roommate whose dad I was calling?” The tension grew as she didn’t move for the handle to get out. My tongue tingled, and I panicked when she shifted in her seat. “Do you want to sit and talk somewhere?”
She smiled wide, and my chest expanded in such a way I’d never felt before. I lived for that beautiful grin. She nodded, and I pulled back out of the driveway.
“Where to?”
“There’s a park a few miles that way,” she suggested. I followed her directions and pulled into the park. I took in a deep breath of the cold, crisp October air, and then looked around after stepping out of the car.
“This is a nice little place,” I admired.
“We used to come here every day after school.”
“You grew up around here?”
“I did. Did you?”
“Yeah, my family has been here for a long time.”
“What year did you graduate? I don’t remember you.” She furrowed her brows as she stared at my face.
“Eighty-five, but I didn’t go to public school.”
“Oh, homeschooled?”
“No, uh, Catalina.”
“Catalina, the private school?” She whistled. “Damn boy, you really do have money.”
“My family has money. Not me. It’s not something I’m proud of,” I admitted, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Why not?” She scoffed, then turned and pointed to my car. “If I had something like that, I’d be driving it past my homies every single day!”
“It is pretty slick, isn’t it?”
