Page 10

Author: Lisa De Jong


I’m only a couple blocks away from my house when it starts to rain. It takes only seconds before my muscles tense and I start to feel dizzy. My legs are so tired, but I push myself as hard as I can to escape the weather. Whenever it rains, it all comes rushing back to me. Every single second of what happened that night flashes through my mind. I can see Drew. I remember the sharp pain he caused inside me, and the rough feel of his light stubble on my face.


My jaw and hands start to tingle by the time I finally reach my front door and run inside. I don’t bother taking off my shoes. I go straight to my room and turn the radio on so that it’s loud enough to mask the sound of the rain on my window. I lie in bed and let tears fall down my face, soaking my pillow until I can’t cry anymore. It should never be okay for someone to spend more time crying than they do smiling.


I remain in my room, listening to music for the remainder of the day, only getting up to take a shower and grab a sandwich from the kitchen. Having a day off work gives me too much time to think and I find myself actually looking forward to tomorrow.


I’m just finishing up with Ms. Carter when the door opens and Asher walks in. I stop wiping off the table and stand up straight, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. He’s wearing grey shorts and a black t-shirt that just grazes the top of his shorts and his blonde hair is as unruly as the first day I saw him. But today, he doesn’t look confident or sad; he looks unsure as he stands with his hands in his pockets.


He slowly walks toward me, a small smile playing on his lips. I have no idea what he’s going to do and it both excites me and scares me.


He stops two feet in front of me. “You look surprised to see me,” he says to me confidently.


I can’t take the eye contact anymore. It’s making me feel crazy things that I haven’t felt in forever. “No. I mean, I thought maybe you left town. It only takes a couple hours to see all this place has to offer.”


He laughs, leaning in close so I can feel his breath on my ear. “I saw you run by my house yesterday,” he whispers. I instantly jump back out of fear. I hate when people get that close to me. The only two people who I allow to touch me are my mom and Beau. I quickly look around the room to make sure no one has seen us, but we’re the only two people in the dining room. His eyes follow mine before they meet again. I can’t get his amused expression out of my head.


I take a deep breath to regain my composure. “I run every day,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.


“Did you like my car? You seemed to be admiring it,” he says, running his teeth over his bottom lip. I’m drawn to them, but I quickly refocus my eyes on his.


“I’ve never seen a car like that up close before. It’s very nice,” I say, trying to suppress the warmth I feel on my cheeks.


“It’s a 1967 Mustang, fully restored.” He smiles. “I worked on it for two years to get it looking that good.”


We’re both still, locked in some sort of crazy awkward staring contest. I’m waiting for him to say something because I struggle with this social stuff. He obviously doesn’t, so I try to leave the ball in his court until I can’t take it anymore.


“So, do you want a table?” I finally ask, breaking the uneasy silence.


He smiles. “Yes, it’s been a couple days since I’ve had a milkshake.”


“We’re open every day you know,” I tease.


He looks away before speaking. “I had some stuff I had to take care of. You can’t have milkshakes every day.” His words are ice cold, and I want to know why, but I quickly drop the subject.


“Well, have a seat and I’ll grab one for you,” I say, walking toward the kitchen. I don’t look back at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. I rest my palms against the counter and close my eyes. I need to get a grip and leave the guy alone. I’m in no shape to take him on as my project, and he sure as hell isn’t ready to deal with all my baggage.


I take my time making his shake before heading back out to the dining room. He’s sitting in one of the booths with both arms resting across the back of the bench, eyes fixated on the cars that go by on the street. “Here you go. Do you want anything to eat?”


He glances up at me before leaning forward to twirl his straw in his shake. “Just an order of French fries, please.”


I nod, quickly heading toward the kitchen again. His personality feels so hot and cold—it makes me crazy!


We don’t say anything to each other when I bring out his fries, but I notice how he dips them in his shake, and it makes me smile. There’s no better combination than salty and sweet; I know, because I do the same thing.


When he’s done with his fry basket, I bring out his ticket, setting it on the table without saying a word. As I turn toward the kitchen, I feel a large hand grip my forearm.


He must have noticed that I winced because he quickly lets go of me. “I have a question I want to ask you before I go. Would you show me around town sometime? I’m new, and have no idea what there is to do here.”


I roll my eyes. “You’re kidding me, right? You literally start at one end, drive ten or so blocks, and you’re on the other side. There isn’t anything to do.” There’s a little more bite to my voice than what I intend, but I know his game. If he thinks he’s going to trick me into something like hanging out with him, he’s in for a surprise.


He leans back against the booth, smiling up at me. “What do you do for fun?”


I hesitate. This is the moment I admit that I have no life and don’t know the meaning of fun. “I don’t. I work, I run, and that’s it.”


“Well then, I dare you to go to Carrington Days with me tomorrow,” he says, cocking his head to the side.


“You can’t be serious,” I remark. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would have any fun at our small town festival.


He shakes his head. “Oh, I’m very serious.”


My mouth goes dry, and the only thing I want to do is run out the door and never look back. “I don’t date,” I blurt, immediately regretting the way it came out.


He gives me a better view of his straight white teeth. Maybe he likes to see me squirm, or maybe he likes the challenge. “I’m not asking you for a date. I’m daring you to . . . be my tour guide at Carrington Days.”


“Why are you daring me?” I wonder if this is how he always gets girls to do what he wants. He may think he knows me, but he still hasn’t figured out that I’m not like other girls.


“You seem like the type of girl who doesn’t back down from a challenge,” he says, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “Are you going or not?”


“I work tomorrow.” He needs to let this go. There are lots of other girls out there that would love to show him around Carrington Days. Why me?


“So, I’ll pick you up at three?” he asks, throwing money on top of his bill. He isn’t looking at me, but I can’t take my eyes off of him. He’s got to be the cockiest guy I’ve ever met.


“How do you know what time I get off?” Has he been following me? Has he been asking other people about me? If he has, I don’t want to know the stories he’s been told.


He stands, causing me to step back to regain my personal space. “I know a lot of things. So, three o’clock then? I’ll even buy you a funnel cake.”


I’m too shocked to speak. No one has ever talked to me like this, and I don’t know how I feel about it. He’s almost to the door when I find my voice again. “I’ll meet you there at three. At the entrance to the carnival.”


He nods, confidently walking right out the door.


I don’t know what just happened. I wanted to say no, but my heart won out. Only time will tell if this is something I’ll regret.


Chapter 7


WORK FLIES BY WAY TOO FAST. We’re busy because people from surrounding communities have come over for our town’s summer festival. I secretly wish my boss would ask me to pick up an extra shift tonight, but he doesn’t. I don’t even have Asher’s number to call and tell him something came up or that I’m sick and can’t make it.


Unfortunately, it looks like I’m going to have to keep my word and meet Asher at the fair.


The whole drive home, I mentally run through all the scenarios on how this afternoon could go. I’m stepping way outside of my comfort zone to do this today, and if I admit that to him, I don’t think he’ll be surprised. My plan is to tread slowly, and if something goes wrong, I’ll just go home. I’m trying not to make this harder than it has to be. It’s a public place; there will be plenty of people wandering around.


Who knows? Maybe I’ll actually have a little fun. And at the very least, I’m getting some free fair food out of it.


I quickly jump in the shower, because I only have thirty minutes to get ready. I decide on dark skinny jeans and a long green tank I have hanging in my closet but have never worn. I don’t have time to dry my hair, so I put some product in it and let the natural waves take over. I’m not one for much make-up, but I apply some moisturizer, a little mascara and a thin layer of lip gloss. I don’t care how I look most days, and I’m not going to go out of my way to get all dolled up for a guy I barely know.


My nerves don’t boil to the surface until I’m in the car, heading toward the center of town. My stomach is in knots as I drive around, looking for a place to park. I pull into one of the church parking lots and finally find an empty spot. My hand shakes when I reach up to turn the car off.


The thought of just going home runs through my mind again, but something tells me that Asher would be at my house looking for me not long after. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out where I live if he doesn’t already know. Maybe this should scare me, but something deep down inside tells me he would never hurt me.


Carrington Days is a big festival with carnival rides, entertainment, and plenty of fried food. Later tonight, they’ll have a free concert in the park with a beer garden. I haven’t been here the last couple years, but I remember coming here as a kid and having a really good time. My mom used to let me go on five rides, and then right before we went home, she would buy us a bag of the warm Tom Thumb donuts. Just thinking about those makes my mouth water. Those are the type of memories I always want to hold onto.