“No, actually, I’m not entirely sure who Charlie is. It's all a little strange. She's never mentioned his name once in all these years, so whynow?”
Jackson seems surprised by all of this, just as I am. “The mind works in mysterious ways, and strokes can have an impact on memories and pasts that have been lockedaway.”
“I suppose. I guess it's just a littleunsettling.”
“Maybe you should look him up?” Jackson suggests, like it's just a matter of Googling this guy and finding out who he is and what his storywas.
“I can’t even remember his last name, or if it has been mentioned anywhere in the diary so far, and second, he was a soldier. I'm not about to go looking for some guy who may or may not have killed people. What if he tried to hurt her? I really don’t know enough of the storyyet.”
Jackson shrugs. “I suppose. You should keep reading, but you have to tell me what happens because I’m kind of intriguednow.”
“You kind of got yourself intrigued when you decided to eavesdrop, don't you think?” I playfully nudge my elbow into his arm, teasing with asmirk.
He pulls back with a cute smile. “Hey, hey, be gentle. I’m adoctor.”
I roll my eyes, “I wouldn’t want to damage your arms. Do you have theminsured?”
“Maybe,” he says with a sigh. “In any case, please keep me posted on the next entry. I am curious about where it allgoes.”
I open the menu to distract myself from this man’s flawless smile and the effect it clearly has on me. I have been easily distracted by Jackson allday.
Focus, focus. Menu. The appetizers seem like the easiest thing to go with since we'll be bowling at the same time I assume. “Hmm…nachos and mozzarellasticks.”
“You speak my language too. How amazing is this?” he jokes. “Want toshare?”
“I suppose I could do that.” I feel like I may be sounding too serious rather than just pushing the dry humor. I’m trying too hard, which is why dating is a bad idea. I’m bad at it, and I end up with men likeMike.
“You don’t like me, do you?” he blurtsout.
“What?” I ask with a squeak accenting my question. “What would make you say that?” Besides my not-so-funny sense of humor and ridiculous awkwardness. It’s so obvious how nervous I am. I must look like a fool rightnow.
He opens his menu, but it seems as though it’s just to busy his hands as a distraction. “You seem like you're trying very hard to figure meout.”
“I like to do that. It's like a guessing game for me—you know—if I'm right or wrong on certain aspects,” I tellhim.
“So, you do likeme?”
I can’t hide the smile threatening the corners of my lips. “Do you have a confidence issue I should be aware of?” I'm going to go with no on this one, but I'm toying withhim.
“I do, and you're messing with it, big time.” I release the smile I've been holding back and feel a blush warm my cheeks. “Oh, you’ve gotgame.”
“How else will I win?” heasks.
“Well, you haven’t hit a strike yet, so I don'tknow.”
“That’s gutter talk right there,” he says throughlaughter.
“Oh, you are a cornyone.”
“I have no comeback for that,” he snickers. “But how about this, if I get a strike with my first ball, you have to tell me exactly what's on your mind at that exact second. That way I'll know what it is you’re observing aboutme.”
“Deal,” I say, trying to appearunfazed.
Jackson stands up from the bench, leaving behind a scent of some type of delicious-smelling cologne. The fragrance grabs my senses, and it takes everything I have to hold myself back from running over and wrapping my arms around him. We’re basically still strangers, though, and that would be taking things a little too fast for this set-up date we’reon.
He picks up the bowling ball and eyes the pins carefully before swinging his arm back. “Don't miss!” I yell at the exact second he drops the ball, but I don't think it had mucheffect.
“Really?” He turns around and lifts his hands in the air. “You pulled that move?” Without looking at the pins or the destruction of his swing, the word “strike” blares in fluorescent letters on the screen above his head and bounces around amid digital confetti. He justknew.
