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I like true crime as much as the next person, but this is all a bit too Deja Breakup for me.
Though it was for the best that he brought me back down to earth. For a minute there, it felt like old times, back when things between us were light and fun and bantery. I loved that about Ethan and me. But there was an almost flirtatious edge to the whole him-chasing-me-around-with-a-paintball-gun thing, and that aspect must be thrown away like yesterday’s bread.
I’m going to take it as a win, in the grand scheme of things. Ethan and I are simply approaching something like friendship again, which should reduce any and all awkwardness in the future. I simply must remember not to flirt with him… or to interpret his teasing as flirting. It’s too dangerous to go down that road again, to entertain something that could never be.
So, it’s settled. Ethan and I will continue to have a good, friendly time, and I will feel zero sparks. I will be a lake, tap water, and other flat, wet things.
Flat and wet. That’s me.
14
Ethan
SnnooRRRrrre!!!
I glance at Val, who I can confirm is now definitely asleep. Her head is arched back against the headrest and her mouth is wide open.
We’ve moved from the gravel road onto the highway, and I’m grateful. Val can sleep through a tornado, but the way her head was banging against the passenger window every two minutes had me concerned. If she really was sleeping through that, I’d have to let sleep scientists know of this medical marvel.
SSSSSSnooRRRRe!
Aw. Just roaring away like a small, wild-haired lawnmower.
I’m glad she’s sleeping. It’s giving me space and time to consider what happened when we were playing paintball… which is that I came to a realization. It’s not particularly momentous or ground-breaking, but it surprises me how certain I am:
I’m still into Val. Have never stopped being into her. She still flips my stomach with a single glance, still feels like the best friend and partner (paintball or otherwise) that I could ever have.
Growing up, I had to be responsible, take things so seriously. It was only Mom and me, so she was candid about what she needed from me, and I did everything I could to help her. We were a team, we worked well together. But with Val, I could be a kid. She was my childhood in so many ways. Our stupid inside jokes, the letter box, games only we knew how to play…
She was my escape, but it went deeper than that. With Val, I could be myself; I never had to put on a front, or act a certain way. I appreciated that about us. I wonder if we could ever get back to that point.
Was a haybale-strewn paintball field the best place to bring up our past? Probably not. So I’m thanking all the teen boy overlords for that interruption. I can’t assume that Val has residual feelings for me, especially after what I did. Just because I never got over her doesn’t mean it goes both ways.
But maybe Pops was onto something with this last cunning plan of his. Maybe this is my opportunity to correct my mistakes and make amends. Maybe this is my last chance to spend real, proper time with the first—and only—girl I ever loved.
A last chance road trip, of sorts.
At that moment, my phone buzzes. My heart picks up when I see who the email’s from—Carolyn at the Aston Falls Express. The subject line reads: “Following up on your application...”
I still can’t believe that I’m in the final round for the sous-chef position.
I’m excited. Really, I am. This is what I’ve wanted for so long. Granted, the reasons I want to be a chef have changed—Mom’s job in Aston Falls pays really well now, and between that and the work I’ve done in restaurants over the years, we were able to support my grandparents through their retirement. But this job is one-of-a-kind. A great, completely unique opportunity.
snnooooOORRe!!!
I smirk as I glance at Val.
And it suddenly occurs to me that, as excited as I am about this sous-chef position, I’m even more excited to be here right now with her… Even if she is snoring so loud, the truck’s practically shaking.
I’ll get back to Carolyn after this weekend, I decide. For this weekend, I’m off the grid.
And speaking of going off the grid…
I spot a familiar exit up ahead. It isn’t part of the road trip, but I’ve been meaning to stop by since I got back to town. And with all this reminiscing about my grandparents, it feels almost fated that we’d stop here.
I signal right and turn off the highway. Hopefully Val won’t mind if we make a detour.
15
