Page 147 of Where Roads Lead

“So, how do they view the world?” Will pressed.

“I don’t know.” I heaved a sigh. “For them, well, it’s either this or it’s that. It’s black, or it’s white. That type of mentality.”

“Are you being incredibly vague on purpose?”

“No, I just think I’m about to break out in hives if I have to talk about my parents any longer.” I turned my head slightly, embarrassed for him to see how affected I got over such a normal topic of conversation.

I mean, of course he’d want to know about my parents. That was a normal thing to know about someone you were dating.

Wait. Were we dating?

Geez, I was relieved I hadn’t said that out loud, because while I was very much into Will, I couldn’t be entirely sure if his head was in the same place as mine.

“I’m not trying to stress you out,” he said, reaching over to bring me closer. “I was just trying to figure out what caused that look on your face after talking to your mom this morning.”

I thought about telling him the truth, but figured the idea of his new…girl he was seeing…being fresh out of a semi-arranged marriage that didn’t reach the altar might be slightly off-putting. Especially considering it had only been twenty-four hours since Will and I had transitioned from friends to whatever this was.

And I liked whatever this was so much that I was scared to even ask exactly what it was.

“Hey,” Will said worriedly, apparently aware of whatever spiraling storm was brewing inside of me. “It’s okay, Els. We don’t have to talk about your family anymore.”

“Oh, no,” I told him. “It’s not that. Now I’m stressed about something different.”

“What? When did that happen?”

“Just now, in my head, when my thoughts went down the dark and twisty road they always managed to go down.” I faked a laugh.

“Tell me.”

“No, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“Well, I don’t know. Things are different now. Between us.”

“I thought that was a good thing.” He moved to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

“It is,” I said. “I’m just overthinking.”

“Well, I don’t want you to overthink us.” He looked concerned. “If something’s bothering you, we can talk about it.”

I guess I’d rather get it over with now than the possibility of continuing on like this for days or weeks or months and losing my nerve and becoming one of those people who were together, but not really together because they never defined their relationship.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked, biting my lip to fight the anxiety screaming at me to just leave well enough alone.

“Of course,” he said. “You can ask me anything.”

“Are you—I mean, are we—um,” I said, feeling a bit breathless as I tried to string together a coherent thought. Would asking the status of us after one day be the most blatantly clingy move in the world? “You know what? Never mind.”

“Elsie,” he said, tone commanding.

“Are we dating?” The words came out all in one tumble, and I instantly felt my face flame with embarrassment.

“See, that sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” I groaned, burying my face in my hands before I could see his reaction. “Oh, God. Forget I asked that. What am I? A girl with a poodle skirt and a milkshake, asking you to go steady with her? Ridiculous.”

“Elsie.”

“No, leave me here to rot in my shame. That was an awful thing to ask. I mean, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”