“No, yeah. I get it.” There’s no judgment in it. Just pure understanding. I meet his eye briefly, and he gives me a small smile, and suddenly, my throat closes again.
The car goes silent, save for the radio playing softly in the background. It runs through an ad for deals at Meijer before the DJ introduces the next song, some new artist I’ve never heard of. We don’t say anything else for the rest of the way, but it’s not uncomfortable.
As I eventually pull into Luke’s driveway, he sighs very dramatically, and I see the old lifted diesel truck parked by the garage that caught his attention. There are a shit ton of bumper stickers adorning the back window and tailgate, ranging from Second Amendment advocacy to insulting political commentary and rhetoric. There are no less than three ‘Trump 2020’ decals and one very pointed sanctity of marriage sticker right above the license plate.
It's not uncommon around these parts to see cars and houses fixed up to express their owners’ political opinions to everyone passing by. But the level of aggressiveness on this truck is disturbing. I grimace at the sight of it.
“Is that your stepdad’s truck?” I scoff.
“Yup,” Luke smacks.
“Dear lord.”
“Right?” He laughs. “Fucking tool.”
“I’m sorry you had to ride in that.”
“Just imagine what it’s like living with him.”
I shudder slightly, giving Luke a sympathetic look. He nods his agreement, then groans, dropping his head against the headrest.
“Would you still be willing to pick me up for work tomorrow?” he asks sheepishly, his jaw clenching like he’s uncomfortable with the question. “I haven’t figured out a new car situation yet, and after today, I can’t rely on that prick taking me anywhere.”
“Yeah, of course,” I answer instantly. “No problem.”
“I’ll give you gas money.”
“Fuck that,” I scoff. “Don’t worry about it. Really.”
“Thank you.” Luke sighs, and I can see his relief by the way he lets his shoulders drop.
We set the time I’ll be back to pick him up in the morning, and then he gets out of the truck and grudgingly walks up to his house. I can see the tension in his body from here as he makes his way up to the door, undoubtedly squaring up for what will likely be an unavoidable confrontation with his bigoted stepdad, and I feel sorry for him.
Before he goes inside, he turns and looks back at me, chuckling to see that I haven’t even started leaving yet. He gives me an overdramatic bow of gratitude, and his face breaks into a wide grin. I flip him off through the windshield as I put the truck in reverse, and he bursts out laughing as he disappears into the house.
Chapter Six
Inflection Point
IforgottotextChrissy.
That’s my first thought when I wake up the following morning. Somewhere between picking Luke up off the side of the road and getting lost in a book for the rest of the evening, it completely slipped my mind.
Now it’s Monday, and I still haven’t nailed down the details of our date.
A date I have done absolutely nothing to prepare for.
Fuck.
Great. Cool. Totally ideal. There’s no way she doesn’t think I’m an insensitive ass who just blew her off after this.Good job, Ethan!
If texting before 8 a.m. on a Sunday was rude, texting at 5:30 is definitely out of the question. But I can’t leave it too much longer, or she’ll really think I’m standing her up. She doesn’t have my number yet, so she can’t even text me first to confirm we’re still on for tonight. I can only imagine what she’s thinking.
This ispreciselywhy I wasn’t looking to date anyone. There are too many rules to follow. Too many ways to fuck thingsup. When other people’s feelings are involved, it’s like I’m in a game of 4D chess, and I’ve forgotten how to play. Or maybe I never actually learned. It would explain why so many of my past relationships have failed so miserably.
Coming up with romantic ideas on the fly is not one of my strong suits, and Luke was right to criticize this town’s lack of attractions. I can’t just take Chrissy out to Lucky’s, although itisthe only bar for miles and would be an easy option. That would be tacky. Even if I’m not in a dating mood, Chrissy deserves better than that.
So, I spend my morning looking up restaurants outside of town and writing up a list of options, even though I have no clue what kind of food she likes. I don’t want to pick somewhere too fancy or bougie that would make her uncomfortable. Yet, at the same time, I don’t want her to think I’m cheap or unwilling to spend money on her by taking her somewhere inexpensive and dingy. God knows the money isn’t an issue, but it’s best not to jump into something too ostentatious on a first date, opening the door for unwanted questions.
