Heath tugs me and we get down the porch stairs to where his car is parked in the driveway. Like always, he opens the door for me and I slide in.
Once inside, I set the bouquet in my lap and gently touch the petals of the flowers. I love that he bought me flowers. It’s something I only read in books.
“Rose,” Heath gets inside. “Put on your seatbelt.”
As soon as I’m done, he starts the car, turns on the heat, making sure all the fans are directed my way. Then he looks over at me, and offers me his open palm. It takes me a second to realize that he wants to hold my hand.
With a giddy smile, I put my hand in his. Quickly, he laces our fingers together and sets our hands on my thigh and gives it a squeezes.
Then he hits the road.
___________________
It takesme ten minutes to figure out that he isn’t taking me anywhere here.
We are going out of town.
I’ve never been out of this place, so the nerves hit me when I see the unfamiliar road that stretches long and wide with acres of fields on either side of it. We cross a few cars and trucks in speed as Heath drives with complete control with one hand on the steering wheel. He is at complete ease and makes it look so effortless.
He spares me a glance as if he can feel my gaze. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I rush out.
“You’re squeezing my hand a little too tight.”
With a gasp, I loosen up my hold on him, but he only tightens his hold on me.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice on alert.
“I’ve never been out of town,” I say.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Why not?”
“My parents couldn’t afford it.” Just saying that word turns my mood sour. A lump gathers in my throat like a rock.
As if he can sense my emotions, he starts drawing circles on the back of my hand. The action is soothing and calms my quivering nerves that can’t help but think about being homeless. I’ve been trying to shove back that thought as far away as I can, but it keeps coming back.
“Did you want to go?” Heath asks, diverting my mind.
“Yes, especially when people went on school trips and came back with things that looked so special.” I smile, remembering those times. Every time the school trips happened, I’d be hit with a pang in the chest knowing I couldn’t go because my parents wouldn’t allow it. My mother wanted me to study all the time. The only other thing that I did besides studying was reading.
I didn’t fall in love with reading because it was something different than studying.
No, I fell in love with it because it let me travel worlds and understand emotions, all the while I was sitting in my small room. Through words and characters I got to experience happiness, sadness, adventure and so much more. Even though it was all fictional, it felt so real.
“I never went on school trips,” he confesses. “I hated everyone.”
I laugh a little. “You still do.”
With a smirk, he looks over at me. “Yes, but not you. You are someone I love.”
“I love you too,” I say.
His head faces the road, but a tiny smile hangs on his lips. “If you went to the city, what would you buy?”
