“Thanks.” Connor adjusts his grip on the steering wheel and glances down at the photo. “I found that picture the other day when I was going through her things. I dunno, I thought it would be nice to keep it in my truck for a while. I really miss her.”
I smile, but silence quickly takes back over. I don’t know what to do, or what to say. As we drive past holiday decorations and beautiful lighting displays on people’s houses, I know this holiday is hurting him too. It’s his first Christmas without his mom and that is a million times harder than not having money for presents.
“Say something,” Connor says. “I don’t want to feel sad. Say something upbeat.”
I take a deep breath. “Um… did you have fun at the crazy Christmas store?”
He snorts. “I’m not sure I’d call that fun.”
“What did Mrs. Harris want with you?”
He shrugs, and a weird look crosses his face that makes me immediately regret asking. “Uh… she just had to give me something. Something that was my mom’s.”
“Oh.” I bite my lip. “Crap. Okay, I’ll think of something extra upbeat,” I say, smiling. My heart pounds because I’m trying not to mess this up. I want to make him smile. I want to take some of that pain away from his expression. “You know how Brian Paine went on that Snapchat rant about how stupid vapes are?” I ask.
Connor nods.
“Well guess who got suspended from school this week for having not one, butthreevape pens on him?”
Connor snorts. “That guy is such an idiot.”
I nod. “All of the basketball guys are complete jerks.”
Connor stiffens for a split second and then he turns up the radio a little. “Do you like this kind of music?”
“Sure,” I say, but I’m not really paying attention to the song. I’m looking at his features, his expression, and how whatever I just said seemed to strike a chord with him. I don’t know if Connor plays any sports anymore since I think he quit the baseball team after his mom died. But I definitely know he’s not on the basketball team with Ricky.
And then I remember something else about Connor. We were at Tisha Meyer’s pool party a couple years ago—a party I would later discover is when Ricky told his friends he was going to ask me out. I went inside to refill my soda and Connor stopped me. We were science partners back then.
“You shouldn’t date Ricky,” he had said.
“What?” I said, feeling my cheeks blush. Ricky and I had been flirting on Snapchat for a couple of weeks and I had desperately hoped he’d ask me out.
Connor just shrugged. “I’m just looking out for you,” he said.
Instead of taking his words to heart, I just rolled my eyes. “I can look out for myself,” I snapped, before going back outside to the party.
I angle my body toward Connor, internally cringing at the memory of that pool party. “Hey,” I say. He glances at me before looking back at the road. “You probably don’t remember this, but a couple of years ago you told me not to date Ricky. I should have listened to you.”
Connor’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his gaze on the road. “I remember that day. I shouldn’t have told you what to do. You are your own person and you can make your own choices.”
I shake my head. “No, I should have listened. You should have taken my shoulders and shook me and said don’t do it!”
He laughs, and I find myself laughing too. “I could have saved myself a lot of heartache if I had just listened to you.”
Connor looks over at me, and for the first time in a long time I don’t see that lingering pain in his eyes. He looks happy. I finally made him smile.
And then his entire face lights up red. We both turn our attention forward, where the car in front of him is sliding all over the road, the tires screeching on the asphalt. Connor slams on the brakes and I go flying forward since my seatbelt isn’t on the right way. His hand shoots out in front of me, pressing me back against the seat as the truck shudders to a halt, barely missing a collision.
My whole life doesn’t flash before my eyes, but a distinct image of what could have happened does. My head would have gone right through the windshield.
“You saved me,” I say, breathless. I look down at Connor’s arm that’s stretched across my chest.
He quickly removes it. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” he says quickly. “Are you okay? Did I touch your boob? I didn’t mean to.”
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s okay.”
The car in front of us starts driving again, and I see a startled deer standing on the side of the road. He must have been the reason for the sudden brake slam. Connor’s face is now Santa hat red, but this time it’s not from brake lights.
