“For real,” I say. “That’s some bullshit.”
“Do you know what she said to me?” He’s hungover and has both hands planted firm against the steering wheel. He takes his eyes off the road and looks over to me with dark shades over his burnt face. “She said, it was in your contract,” he drops his voice an octave, mimicking the motel attendant. “I told her nobody reads those damn things.”
I can’t help but laugh at his imitation. “I’ll pay you back for half the bill.”
“No.’ He shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.” With his left hand on the wheel, his right travels to meet mine above the shifter. His fingers pool with my fingers, and it’s an unfamiliar but welcome touch—the last time I held a guys hand, I was on my way to senior prom. “I had a great weekend.”
The very idea of holding hands seems juvenile, but I don’t mind it. For however long it lasts, I’m transported back to a time when it was okay to be vulnerable and connected to someone else.
“Me too.”
“Look at that view,” he says quietly, taking in the breathless sight of the mountains beside us. We’re crossing a long bridge that passes over a deep gorge. Trees form an insurmountable collage of beauty pasted along the contours of rolling hills. The car slows down and we pull to the slim shoulder on the side of the bridge.
“You can’t pull over on the middle of a bridge,” I shriek, nervous we could be hit by the busy church-going traffic.
“I can if it’s an emergency.” He peers into the driver side mirror and waits for the perfect opportunity to hop over the door.
“It’s not an emergency.” I glance nervously behind us as a car merges into the passing lane to avoid hitting Jensen as he runs around to the rail of the bridge.
“That’s a relative judgment.” He curls his hand and waves me down. “Come look at this shit.”
I flip my fingers through my hair and push the car door open, slamming it into the railing. “Fuck.”
His attention snaps toward me. “When you graduate, because of me, and get a real job, I’m going to make you pay for that.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say and slide my way through the thin opening between the door and the railing. “Although, I question how you intended for me to get out.”
He points to the door of the convertible and wags his finger in an arch-shaped motion. “Jump out.”
“I am so hungover, there’s a good chance I would have underestimated my jump.” I point to the bottom of the ravine. “And ended up down there.”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I would’ve caught you before you hit the bottom.”
“Really?” I question, slightly annoyed.
“Don’t you remember?” He throws his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. “I’m Batman.”
“How could I forget?”
“Don’t worry about the car.”
Nature is a funny thing. It grows, expands and evolves without permission from us mere humans. It has it’s own ecosystem, one that is more than capable of surviving on its own. It’s beautiful without even trying—maybe we could learn something from that.
“I’m a webcam model.” It comes out like the worst kind of vomit—unexpected
His eyes peel over mine. “Why am I not surprised?” he asks with a shake of his head before he twists on his foot and heads back to the car. “Are you coming?”
Just a second. I take one last glance at the beauty that surrounds us before turning back to the car and climbing clumsily back into my seat.
“We got ourselves a regular Catwoman here.” His voice lowers and he imitates that one guy who seems to narrate every fucking movie trailer I’ve ever seen. “Apple Malloy, as flexible and athletic as a cat.”
“I’m going to punch you in the dick.” I slide into my seat and pull my belt over my shoulder. “Drive.”
He does as told, pulling out into traffic without so much as a look into the mirror. “Oops,” slips from his lips as a car swerves into the lane beside us to avoid rear-ending his precious convertible.
“I only show my feet on camera,” I say, trying to clear the word-vomit I had blown all over the bridge.
“Really?” his brow furrows inquisitively. “That’s a shame, because you could make a lot of cash with those beautiful tits.”
“Shut up.”
“Showing a little pussy might help pay for the damage you’ve done to my car.”
“Please stop talking.”
Clouds shift across the sky as we merge onto familiar freeways. Every mile we drive is another mile closer to home. I dread the moment we pull onto my street, because that’s the moment this may all cease to exist.
Choices are to be made, and the consequences of any individual outcome leaves someone heartbroken in its wake. Our tires spin across wet pavement, and I let out a sigh of relief that the rain seems to have already passed through. The last thing I need today is the gloom and doom of spring showers.
We pull onto my street, and my heart drops. I want to turn to him and tell him to hit the gas, to drive right on past my house. We can go anywhere. We can go back to the beach. Anything that delays the inevitable pain that comes with returning home.
“Here we are,” he says as we come to a rolling stop behind my parked Honda Civic.
“It still looks the same.” My eyes pass over the two-story house.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” I push my car door open, step out and reach for my things.
“Let me get that for you.” He jumps over his door and springs to grab my bag from the backseat.
“Such a chivalrous gentleman.”
“I try sometimes.” He shrugs and drops my bag to the ground. There goes the chivalry. Before I can object to him throwing my shit on the street like garbage, he has me pressed against the car. “I want to kiss you.”
“Someone could see us,” I object and pull away from his touch, leaving him standing at the car by himself.
His tongue swipes nervously across his lips. “I want you to be everything that’s you, deep at the center of your being.”
“That’s beautiful and oddly familiar.”
“It’s a quote by Confucius. I open every semester with that quote. You might have been there that day.”
“Maybe,” I ponder. “What does it mean?”
“It means…” He itches the stubble on his chin. “It means I accept you for who you are, just like you accept me.”
“Jensen…”
“Let me finish.” He steps to me, but keeps appropriate teacher-student distance. “It’s not easy to find someone who understands, and I mean truly understands. People walk this Earth with no idea of the suffering around them. When I look into your eyes, I know you suffer from the weight of the world. We both have pasts, and I’ve been honest about mine. But I want you to know, I accept you for who you are with no explanation needed about where you come from.”
“Can we go back to lighter conversation?” I scratch my nose as I sniffle. He is not at all who I pegged him to be. “Please?”
“We have all the time in the world to be light, but right now there’s something I have to get off my chest.”
Please don’t say it.
“I know it doesn’t make sense, and maybe it doesn’t have to—“
Please stop talking.
“It sounds stupid just thinking about saying it out loud—“
I feel it too.
“But when I’m with you, I feel something I thought I couldn’t feel again—“
That’s how it goes. Always coming when you least expect it.
“Apple.” He shakes his head. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Jensen—“
“Let me finish.” His voice is stern, and heavy, full of all the dips and grooves that make up the sounds of truth. “I’m in love with you.”