I stand there, not really sure what to do with myself. Stephen’s been a fine roommate. He’s in the robotics program with me and smart as hell, but we don’t really vibe beyond getting our work done. When I told him I coach Little League, he pretty much shut down. I understand that a lot of my academic ilk have had an unpleasant time when it comes to jocks, but I like to think I bridge the gap between those worlds.
Stephen didn’t care to find out. We work well together on team projects, but he doesn’t want much to do with me outside of that. There are a few other guys I get along with better, but I don’t see them as much.
A real friend would say, “Jake! How was your first day on the job?” But Stephen and I are cordial acquaintances at best. He pauses his game and turns to me, slapping his thighs.
“Do you mind if I take that side table? I know it’s technically yours, but we kinda need one at my girlfriend’s place.”
I stifle a laugh. “You’re moving in with your girlfriend?”
“Yeah. Well, fiancée soon, I hope.”
“Wow, okay. Congratulations!” I’m shocked. I haven’t seen his girlfriend in probably six months and I had no idea they were still together. Stephen’s not an unattractive guy, and I guess he has some quiet charisma or something, but I wouldn’t look at him and think, “that guy’s got a way with the ladies.”
Though, I guess it’s just the one lady he has to lock down. It’s not like he’s part of some massive polycule. Or is he?
“Thanks.”
“And yeah, take the table. Where are you two living?”
“She bought a house.” I’d ask him to expand on that, but I can tell this conversation is killing him.
“Right on,” I say, bobbing my head. “Well, I guess I might see you a few times before we have to be out next week, but thanks for . . . being a good roomie.”
“Yeah. You too.”
I point at him. “See you in the fall?”
“Yep.”
I won’t lie. I’m a little butt hurt. I thought I’d be able to room with him for my last semester, but that’s clearly not on the table. It was a big cost savings for me, and I thought at the minimum, I’d have the stability of this apartment. Stephen’s out here putting a ring on it and I’m . . . coaching Little League? Getting heckled by my new boss?
What the hell am I doing with my life? And why is Stephen so much better at this than I am?
These are the thoughts that haunt me as I drive back to my new home at the peach farm.
I’ve been on some dates, and got a little reckless with a one night stand at the beginning of this school year, but I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since before I started grad school. Sierra was the classic girl back home. We always got along, and I knew I’d be home for a while. Then, I wasn’t sure if I’d do grad school. I needed to get a full ride somewhere, and I wanted to get my mom more settled. That was a mess all its own.
But Sierra and I were good. Easy. Uncomplicated. I loved her. Because we were both still living at home, our sex life wasn’t that different from two high schoolers: the back of her car, the bed of my truck, a camping trip here or there. She wanted to settle down, and I wanted to go to grad school. Once that became clear, she turned on me pretty quickly. Said I wasted her time, wasted her life. That wasn’t my goal when I started dating her, and that isn’t the kind of guy I am. I didn’t know I’d be itching to get away from Floyd at all costs within a year of being back there. Too many ghosts. Too much change. So when I got the full ride to Marshall, I was gone.
And now I’m here, driving on a gravel road not that different from the kind I grew up around, heading out to see a woman who I’m not sure if I like her bad attitude or if she’s actually mean and I don’t like her at all.
I catch the devil herself walking to the barn as the sun’s setting, wearing what appears to be barely-there volleyball shorts and a giant t-shirt that somehow looks great on her. And boots. Tan cowboy boots that show off the muscular curves of her thighs.
I think maybe everything looks great on Darcy, but judging by her attitude from earlier, she couldn’t care less what I think of her.
Funny, when she was giving me hungry eyes at that sports bar, she seemed down for anything. But today? If it would have been legal for her to run at me with her pruners, I think she might have done it.
She quirks an eyebrow into my headlights, milling around like she’s waiting to talk to me. A black cat follows on her heels and they seem comfortable together, like their relationship is prearranged. I park and she walks up to my window, which is already rolled down.
“Evening,” I say, trying to charm her and maybe make up for the fourteen stupid things I said to her today.
“What are you doing out here?”
I smirk and tilt my head. “Maybe I misunderstood your uncle, but I think this cabin is my new home.”
Her mouth flaps for a second. “No, it is. I just . . . didn’t think you’d be back today. I don’t have the beds made or anything.”
I lean my head out and look around, only finding a scruffy barn cat skittering across the barn’s opening, birds chirping their bedtime songs, and fireflies ascending from the grass to the trees. “Am I interrupting some big Friday night plans?”
