The people in this town are very nosey.
I love them.
Now it’s Friday afternoon and before he even steps out of his truck, I'm already running out towards the passenger door. He doesn't get the chance to open it for me and when he gets back into the car, he's frowning.
“Hey, grumpy pants.” I flash him my biggest smile. I had a feeling he wouldn’t like me stepping on his chivalrous toes much.
“Are you in a hurry?” His face softens as he takes in my smiling face and I hand him an oatmeal cookie—his favorite, which I remember him mentioning Wednesday at the diner when Shelley asked him what he liked to eat.
“Nope. I just like to get there a little early on Fridays to make sure everything is in order. It’ll get busy with high school kids and locals out on dates and whatnot.” I put my seatbelt on and wipe the goofy smile off my face. I notice he's still holding on to the cookie and staring at me.
“This is for me?” His brows do that cute thing where they both furrow inwards and upwards and I sit on my hands to keep from smoothing out the lines with my fingertips.
“Yeah. You said it’s your favorite, so I made some last night. Sorry, I only have one. My mom ended up taking them all to school to share with the other teachers. I pretty much had to wrestle her for this one!” I wince a little and look down at my lap, suddenly feeling lame for handing him a cookie, even though it was so sweet when he did it for me.
“No. No. This is… this is really nice, Elaina. Thank you.” He flashes me that gosh darn dimple as I look up at him again and he places the cookie in the glove compartment as if it’s made of delicate crystal. As he reaches over my lap, I can smell his aftershave. I take a deep breath in and hope he doesn’t notice me blatantly sniffing him. Again.
Before he sits back in his seat, he reaches out and touches my knee. His eyes hold me captive and he says, “Thank you again. No one other than my family has ever baked me anything before.” He squeezes lightly before placing his hand on the steering wheel.
I can’t hide my look of shock—both at the fact that he just touched me, something he so rarely does, and that he just said no one has ever baked for him.
What about birthday cakes? Maybe he just didn’t count those.
All I manage to say is, “Oh. Well, you’re welcome.”
He backs out of the driveway, and we drive in comfortable silence to the diner, listening to Kings of Leon. A smile never leaves my face because I know he put it on for me. I told him they were one of my favorite bands on Monday.
The whole town is quickly falling in love with Andy, and instead of us never seeing one another after those first few shifts together, we see each other almost every day. Andy picks me up when our schedules match and he’s started doing it when he has the day off, too. Sometimes he’ll sit at the diner when it isn't busy to keep me company.
It’s always nice having him nearby; I didn’t know I was missing this kind of friendship in my life, but he makes everything feel fun and easy. Even if I hope almost every day that he saw me as more than his only friend in this tiny town.
four
. . .
On a warm springnight when the air is thick with the scent of new blooms and crackly with the call of crickets, my world changes.
I stand next to Andy during a rare shift together, filling saltshakers in a way that has become all too familiar between us over the past weeks. He always helps me do this, even when he's not working. He says it's soothing, just standing next to me, watching the way the salt moves. I always wonder if it’s me or the salt that soothes him.
As I laugh at some silly remark he's just made, I feel his hand come under my chin, lifting my gaze to meet his. My whole body comes alive at the touch, sending me back to that first day we met. Then his gentle lips are brushing against mine. He tastes like the cinnamon gum he's always chewing, and his lips feel like silk against mine. The kiss is sweet and timid, just like the boy who makes my world spin a little slower and my heart beat a whole lot faster.
“Go on a date with me,” he whispers onto my lips. He kisses the tip of my nose and straightens, taking the warmth of his breath with him. “Tomorrow night. Neither of us is working.”
I can’t process this. Is this a game to him? There’s no way he wants to take me out. He’s 21 and gorgeous. I’ve seen the way our customers (ofallages) look at him. He can have any one of them. He’s not going to take me along on this little prank or whatever this is to him. I know he likes me, but he doesn’tlikeme. There’s no way.
I screw the top of the saltshaker on much too tightly, but it helps me keep my voice even. “What? You’re not serious and I don’t like being toyed with, Andy, so let’s just go, okay? We're done here anyway.” I honestly don’t know how to react to what he’s saying. Part of me thinks he’s just playing a game with me and another part is far too hopeful that he’s not. But there's no way this is real; I'm so far out of his league. We're not even the same sport. He's hockey and I'm baseball. Or something.
I storm out of the diner and into the parking lot. He follows closely behind, asking me to wait, but I don’t listen. “Don't play games with me, Andy! I might be younger than you, and you probably caught on to the fact that I have a crush on you, but this is too far!”
I’m just about to reach his truck when he gently takes hold of my elbow and turns me back toward him. One of his hands grips my waist and my breathing, my heart, they go haywire. I was already worked up before but this, this is something else. The anger is pouring out of me in hot waves, but when he touches me, all the waves crash and the warmth that spreads through me is entirely different.
“Elaina,” he whispers my name. We’re so close, his nose nearly touching mine. There’s a fire in his golden eyes that makes me want to screw my eyes shut, but I don’t because I can’t look away from him. I never can. He licks his lips before hespeaks again. “I would never play games with you. Go on a date with me. Please.”
We stand there staring at each other for an eternity. I am stunned silent. I’m sure it looks like my eyes are going to pop out of my head. I’m still breathing heavily, and I can’t describe this weighty feeling in my stomach right now.
“I’ve wanted to ask you out since the first day we worked together. Since that Saturday, 18 days ago. I’ve been trying to work up the courage every moment since. I thought the chocolate chip cookie would be a good way in and then I froze. But I can’t wait anymore.” His grip on my waist tightens and my hands come to rest on his forearms because I need to touch him, especially when he’s saying what I think he’s saying, which is that he likes me.Me!He wants to take me on a date. For real!
His eyes are still intently on mine, that amber glow setting me on fire. I hold his gaze and nod. “Yes. Okay. If this really isn’t a game, you can take me on a date tomorrow night.” I slip away from his grip and get in the truck because I don’t think I can handle his stare or our proximity any longer.
