“You miss Boston?”
“Just the city, my apartment, and the way of life I was used to. Nothing else, really.”
“Change is good for people,” he says.
“How would you know?” I ask.
“I’ve been told,” he replies. “But if you’re unhappy, why don’t you go back home?” He’s asking sincerely, not with a suggestion, or so I’m assuming.
“I promised Brendan I’d stick it out for a month. He said it takes one month for a change to offer the feeling of normalcy.”
“He’s a smart man,” Austin says. “I hope you stick around, though. It’s nice to have some fresh faces around here.”
“That’s the only reason you’d like me to stick around? I have a fresh face?” I ask.
“You’re one of those girls who talks her way out of speeding tickets, aren’t you?”
“No need. I walk everywhere. I didn’t need to drive in Boston either.” But yes, I am one of those girls. I have talked my way out of many kinds of tickets. “Why would you assume something like that?”
“You like to play people,” he says with insistence.
“I do not. I’m actually very honest and upfront. Some people find that to be a good quality,” I tell him.
“Maybe, but if you want to hear something, you won’t stop until you hear it, will you?”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” Yes, I do. I grin. It’s my mischievous grin, and he likes it. He stops walking, so I stop to face him. “What’s wrong?”
He’s got a funny look on his face and I’m not able to read him or even guess at the thoughts going through his mind. “What’s going through your head right now?” he asks me. Funny, how we’re thinking the same thing.
“Hmm,” I press my finger to my chin and look up to the dark sky. “I was wondering if it’s vanilla I’m smelling, or strawberry. Have you ever noticed that both kind of smell similar in a weird way?”
“I don’t think they smell anything alike,” he says.
“Well, I say, ‘you all,’ and you say, ‘y’all’, so I guess we can agree to disagree.”
“You’re somethin’ else,” he says with laughter.
“If you want to say something to me, Austin, say it. We’re running out of steps to take before we find everyone.”
“I ain’t sayin’ a thing. I’ve got nothin’ to say,” he continues, playing out his last turn in this game.
“Neither do I,” I reply. Okay, maybe I don’t like this game or having an opponent who’s competitive. It’s dumb. I can see he wants to take his flirty behavior up a notch, but something is holding him back and I’m not pushing him forward. I’ve been there, done that, and it’s not happening in a new town where everyone probably knows everyone else’s business. It can only lead to bad things.
I turn around and continue walking toward the festival’s opened gates. With a foot off the curb, my good arm is yanked backwards and it scares the ever living shit out of me. “What the hell?”
“Do you look before you cross a street?” he snaps.
A car flies by. “I didn’t think there were cars in this town,” I tell him. I’m making that up. I’ve seen them, but I didn’t see any headlights, so I didn’t think to look. It’s not like Boston, where you can’t cross the street without putting your life at risk.
“Funny. The rules still apply here. Look both ways before crossing, Scarlett.”
“Thank you,” I lament. I look both ways and cross over to the festival’s side. “Where do you think everyone is?”
“At any one of these fifty vendor booths,” he responds.
“Well, we better start looking,” I tell him. I could just call Benny, but I’m stalling for the sake of curiosity about Austin.
“Before we find them, you need taste one ice cream of my choice,” he says.
