Yay! I'll text you after breakfast.
That was fast.
Ivy texts me, saying she’s in the lobby. Whatever work I was doing can wait.
She’s sitting in an oversized chair. If I didn’t know her, I’d think she’s one of the eager souls trying to get a glimpse at the mountains and outdoors. She’s wearing one of the tops she bought at the gift shop with her hair pulled away from her face. Before she notices me, she pulls a chocolate bar out of her pocket, breaks off a piece, and puts it in her mouth.
I can’t help but scoff. I’m in the presence of a legitimate sugar fiend. And that’s when she sees me.
She shrugs and says, “I’m sort of on vacation, right?”
“Right,” I reply, knowing I’d agree to almost anything she says.
Her cheeks are pink from the hike. We didn’t wear enough sunscreen. It oddly brings out her green eyes and long lashes.
Stop. Staring.
“Let’s go get Slate! I can’t wait to see him.” She walks towards the door, rubbing her hands together,like she’s about to go on a treasure hunt.
She walks in front of me.
Stop. Staring. At. Her. Ass.
Once we get in the truck, it appears her phone is still connected from the other day. A Taylor Swift song immediately starts playing. I don’t know a lot about new music but I hear enough at the lodge to know this song.
“Whoops! Sorry!” She scrambles to stop the music on her phone.
“No need to apologize. Turn it up.” It kind of sounds like I’m joking but I’m not.
Her face goes from slightly embarrassed to excited. I look out my window so she can’t see my almost-smile.
Why is it that the smallest things make her this happy? How does she makemethis happy?
“Do you know this one?”
I do know it. It was overplayed a few years back and it’s hard not to know the words. A type of song that everyone knows.
“I do.”
“You don’t.” She’s skeptical with her brows raised. A challenge.
I meet her with my own look, glancing from the road and back to her. She doesn’t believe me. I turn the volume up as the chorus starts to “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” by Taylor Swift. I kind of hate how I know it.
I’m not exactly singing but it’s more enthusiastic than the talking we did the other day. She’s surprised and I’m right there with her.
Who am I?
I keep going and Ivy goes from shock to hysterical laughter. She’s leaning back with her hands on her stomach, and truly laughing. The sound fills the truck, anywhere the music isn’t.
And it clicks. I’m the guy who wants to make this woman laugh like that. My own personal mission. A tall task for someone whoactively avoids being around others.
Once she can finally open her eyes, I see tears rolling down her face. She wasn’t kidding. Tears on a dime. I hold my laugh in.
“I did NOT expect that,” she exclaims, turning the music down. “Are you a Swiftie?”
“I don’t know what that is, so I’m guessing no. But everyone knows that song.”
Her face is full of joy.
