Eventually he concentrates on the road, leaving me marginally disappointed. “So where are you from? Laramie? Or are you just living here for school?” Such a casual question, which doesn’t fit the intensity in his eyes.
“Where are you from?” I counter his question with a question, hoping to divert his attention away from me.
“Around,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes.
Okay, this is harder than I thought. “So besides the fact that you like to walk around with blond sluts in the dark and force your way into people’s lives, what do you like to do?”
His gaze slides from the road to me. “I thought you already knew what I did—play football, help damsels in distress, walk around being stoically aloof.”
I stare impassively at him even though a laugh tickles the back of my throat. It’s been a long time since I’ve even tasted the brief glimpse of laughter. “Touché, Luke Price.”
He presses his hand dramatically against his chest. “Did I just win a conversation?”
“You say that like we were playing a game.”
“Weren’t we?” There’s a challenge in his brown eyes and I feel something awaken inside me, something I’m not sure has ever been fully awake.
“Maybe,” I shift uneasily at the fact that I’m actually feeling something besides numbness, yet I don’t know what it is. “But I wouldn’t count on winning just yet.”
He inhales from the end of his cigarette again, then smoke eases out of his lips. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face, but the shadows in his eyes leave Luke Price unreadable, a mystery, exactly what I strive to be myself. I could press him for more details about his life, where he came from, what makes him tick, but I’m guessing the shadows are there for a reason. And if I go digging into his life, he just might try to dig through mine. And I don’t want him or anyone else to get to know me, because it’s a waste of time. In the end he’ll leave me. Everyone always does.
Luke
“You know I’m not really a fan of hamburgers,” I say. We’re sitting at a table in McDonald’s on opposite sides with a tray of food in between us. I’m trying to keep the conversation light since it was getting heavy in the car. She’s got my thoughts all tangled up. Not only is she a girl who jumps out of windows, but she got way too excited when I said I’d drive down the wrong lane going a hundred miles an hour. It’s like she wanted me to do it and again I can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that head of hers. It’s almost becoming an obsession—needing to know. And that makes me instantly back off.
“You sound like you’re a vegetarian,” Violet remarks from across the table, unwrapping her hamburger.
“Nope, just a guy who doesn’t have much of a taste for burgers.” I grab a handful of fries and plop them into my mouth.
She raises her eyebrows and takes a bite of her hamburger. “I think it’s weird.”
I’m not even sure how I ended up here with Violet. I’d been heading to the store because I’d run out of tequila and Jack Daniel’s and I needed it more than I needed air. I’d just gotten my dad’s wedding invitation, along with a call from him, asking me to be his best man.
“I’m trying to decide if you’re kidding,” I’d replied, because he couldn’t be serious. Best men were supposed to be friends, like each other, know each other.
“I know it’s kind of late notice, since the wedding’s in a couple of months,” he said. “But I’d really like you to be the one standing beside me.”
I shook my head, balling the invitation up in my hand. “I’m not even sure I can come to the wedding.”
“Oh, I see.” He sounded so disappointed, but I wasn’t about to give into him that easily. “Well, could you just do me a favor and think about it?”
I tossed the wedding invitation into the garbage. “I guess.”
“Thank you, Luke.” He sounded so sincere. “And if you ever need anything or want to talk, I’m here.”
I should have just let it all out then, everything I wanted to talk about. How he abandoned us and left me to be destroyed in that house. I should have finally told him what he left me with, what happened, what my mom made me do. But I didn’t say anything but good-bye, too afraid of what he might say or wouldn’t say, and then I hung up.
As I was driving down the road toward the nearest liquor store, I saw Violet limping on the damn foot, completely disregarding my advice to stay off it. I should have just driven by her, let her limp around, like I should have during my walk to school the other day. We keep crossing paths, but it’s not that big of a town or school so it’s not that surprising. We’ve always probably crossed paths a lot, but the thing is I’ve never really paid attention to her before. And now, all of a sudden, I’m hyperaware of her. Part of me is still curious what the hell was going on that night she jumped out the window and the other part… it has a lot to do with my messed up issues with women and control—the obsession with getting her underneath me.
So instead of a shot of Jack I settle for a hamburger, fries, and a Coke. Not much of a trade-off, but I can always hit up the liquor store on the way back.
Violet takes a bite of her hamburger and then sets it down on the tray. She adjusts the beanie on her head a little lower, so it’s covering more of her hair. She doesn’t have any makeup on again and she’s wearing this faded T-shirt that looks about ten years old. I’m starting to wonder if that’s just how she is, low maintenance. But when she jumped out the window, she was all dressed up. I’m not even sure why I’m analyzing it—her. She’s far from my type. I usually go for the slutty, prissy girls who like to look pretty. I’m not even sure why I prefer that look, other than girls like Violet look more intense, and if they’re anything like me they’ve got too much going on inside them, which is the last thing I want. I want no strings attached. I only want girls who can suck my cock and smile about it, without asking for more. And without any annoying giggling either.
“What?” Violet asks, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “Do I have something on my face?”
I rip my gaze off her and open up my chicken sandwich. “No, I was just spacing out.” I take a bite of my sandwich. “Sorry.”
She reaches for my fries with an undecided look on her face. “So I have a question.”
“Okay…”
“About you.”
I slowly chew my food. “I’m not really sure I want to hear your question now.”
She picks a pickle off of her burger, pulling a repulsed face. “Well, I’m still going to ask it.”
I grab a handful of fries from the tray that’s on the table between us. “Go ahead and ask but it doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
She props her elbows onto the table with her burger in her hand. “Why haven’t you ever talked to me before? I mean, we’ve walked past each other probably a hundred times, but never so much as acknowledged each other and then suddenly you’re stalking me.”
I pick up my soda and sip from the straw. “First off, I’m not stalking you. I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”
“You didn’t have to stop to pick me up.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Why? You don’t know me—you’re in no way obligated to help me.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
“Why?”
I shrug, setting my drink down. “Why not?”
She gives me a funny look, like I’m the most confusing person in the world, when really she should be looking at herself like that. “I don’t get it. Why would someone like you help someone like me?”
I open up the bun of my chicken sandwich to pick the tomato off. “What do you mean someone like me and someone like you?”