I consider putting some sort of emoji on the end, like a kissy face or something, but decide against it at the last second.
I’ve got hours until I can meet Evan. It gives me more than enough time to imagine what’s going to happen when the time comes. I’ll be happy to do exactly what we did last night, only this time, I want to repay the favor. Watch Evan come apart for me. Watch that wall he’s built up over the past five years melt away.
I leave a half hour early and sit outside the warehouse in my car. I couldn’t decide on a playlist to listen to so I just have the radio playing quietly in the background. I’m not listening to it anyway.
The second I see people start to leave the building, I sit forward in my seat, then realize I should try and look natural and relax.
Evan comes out after a group of tired-looking guys in beanies and big coats. It’s warm out, but it must be cold in the warehouse.
Evan’s wearing a bubble coat, no hat, his shaved head on display. A pair of slouchy work pants and bulky black boots.
A fire burns in the pit of my stomach at the sight of him. I’m suddenly ashamed of my pine-scented SUV. The labels in my clothes. The cleanness of my sneakers. The fact I’ve never done a day’s hard labor in my life outside of shirtless charity car washes on Greek Row.
Evan’s gaze flickers to mine quickly before flickering away again.
He opens the passenger side door and climbs in.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Shall we go to your place?”
“No. My ma’s there.”
“I know that, but your mom likes me.” I try for a charming smile, but Evan isn’t even looking at me.
“I thought you wanted to.…” he trails off.
“I do,” I reply in a small voice. “But I wanna hang out with you too.”
He glances at the backseat.
“Drive down West Ave. I know a place.”
My mouth is dry as I start the car. This isn’t what I want. Is it? Not like this. I drive anyway, doing as he says. He’s quiet, like he’s a stranger. If I’d thought what happened between us would bring us closer, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The radio is mostly talking now. Neither of us are listening. My leg bouncing nervously while I drive. Evan’s completely still, like he’s checked out.
The river’s coming up on our right. The big houses surrounding the golf course and those big tanks of oil we used to make stories up about when we were kids.
I stop the car behind a pickup truck, a security gate with barbed wire surrounding a construction site.
“Not here,” Evan says. “A little farther up.”
“Evan, we should talk.”
He won’t look at me.
“I don’t want it like this, not with you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I don’t want to fuck in the back of my car.”
He looks at me now, his eyes are dark, like he’s hidden from me.
“Why not? You were okay with it on the beach.”
