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Backstory. It didn’t seem like it would be interesting, but I was excited to learn each detail of Harry that he revealed. My life in comparison didn’t seem engaging enough to waste time on. “My mom got a great job offer, and we moved.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s a lawyer at one of Fenton County’s biggest firms.” I could hear Mom’s bragging voice in my head. I’d heard her talk about it all too often.
Harry drew in a deep breath. “Oh, really? What’s her name?”
“Alice Fontaine.” She’d kept her maiden name when she married Dad, wanting her achievements to be under her name.
“Well, that’s cool that you moved here.”
I wasn’t sure if “cool” was a great way to describe it. I mean, sure, Fenton County was pretty and the beaches in Bayview were nice, but ever since we moved, Addison felt like a prison. A cage keeping me trapped, my wings clipped.
“When I graduate, I want to drive across the country,” I told him decisively, pretending that I’d already planned it out and gotten permission. “I want to spend next year traveling. Not skip college, but take some online classes so I can do both. I don’t want to be stuck here, you know?”
He popped his elbow on the console between us, leaning closer. “You’re not afraid of the unknown?”
Maybe a little, but the idea was so exhilarating, and dressed as confident Stella, I let my thoughts wander down that “what if” path now. What would the world look like without Mom and Dad constantly telling me what to do? I could stay up as long as I wanted, go to the restaurant I wanted, order the food I wanted. Heck, I’d get a salad withextradressing and croutons. I’d wear sweatpants out of the house. I’d be free.
“In the summer, you can go with me,” I said before I really thought about it, glancing his way with a grin. “We can explore the country together.”
“I’ll bring the road trip snacks,” he promised, the Caribbean waters extra blue.
I pulled into the bumpy parking lot of Mary’s Place, then let the engine idle while Harry hurried inside. The music still played in his absence, a soft song filtering through the speakers. The melody was almost haunting, sweet and low, like a ballad played at a high school dance. It was the perfect song for the night, perfect for Valentine’s Day.
This wasn’t a song on my playlist—Harry must’ve searched it himself.
It took him only a few minutes to pick up the food, and then he came back to the car, a plastic bag in his grip.
“So, the address is 220 Lincoln,” he told me as he settled in, quickly grabbing the seat belt. “My GPS says to take a right.”
So a right I took.
We spent the rest of the night driving around the county, but stayed mostly to the west side, around Greenville and Hallow, grabbing food from a few fast-food chains and even a few sit-down restaurants. Harry ran the food to the door, my headlights illuminating his path, and I quickly decided that I would enjoy doing this as a job. Turning my music up loud, going from place to place, and dropping off food. What a fun way to make money.
“Tell me,” I said, lifting my chin a little, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. “Give me the inside scoop. Why do you sing?”
“Why do I sing,” he echoed, then hummed a little. “I’ve been obsessed with music my entire life. I’ve always loved how you can tell such a powerful story with lyrics. You must know what I mean—we listen to the same music.”
I liked that we had that in common. My taste in music was amething, not just a Stella thing. “And your love of listening to it made you want to create it?”
“Exactly.” He knocked his knuckles on his window. “For the longest time, I thought it was just one of those dreams that never comes true. That I’d just be writing music and never do anything with it.”
“You were afraid your potential would be untapped,” I said with a smirk, trying not to laugh at my own joke.
But Harry did, even though it might’ve been a pity laugh. “Spot-on, actually. But good things come to those who wait, yeah? Take the next right here.”
“So is that where the name came from?Untapped Potential?”
He shifted in his seat before nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.”
As we pulled into the driveway of the last house, Harry turned to me, shuffling the fast-food bag. “Do you want to do this last one?” he asked, almost as if he were presenting a great honor.
And it absolutely felt that way. “Really?” I couldn’t help but gasp, staring at the bag as if it were a bar of gold. “I’m allowed to?”
“Don’t see why not.” Harry winked at me in a way that made my blood rush. “Live your delivery driver dreams.”
The bag crinkled loudly as I grabbed it from him. In the process, I accidentally overlapped my fingers with his. His skin was warm against mine, and I quickly pulled back, trying to ignore my kick-started heartbeat. “I’ll be right back.”
