“Yes, because using a fork is definitely the ultimate sign of being a worthy soulmate. And not, you know, stuff like constantly proving to Cassie that he will always put her needs first and never let her down.”
“Wait, what was that about needs? Lemme just write it down.”
“Jack, you don’t have to write that down.”
“Of course I do, you just said that’s how he does it.”
“Yeah, but I did that pointedly. Because obviously you already do that, too.”
He stopped trying to get out his notepad at that. Glanced at her, then back to the road. Glanced at her, then back to the road.Considering, she thought. Maybe, even, for the first time, accepting that something was true about him. After all, it was all he ever did. He tried to be good enough, every second of every day. And he had to know himself to understand that he would never let his soulmate down.
Even now he was thinking about how he could make sure of that.
“Well. All right. Sure. But I still need to be as not monstrous as he is.”
“Right. And I’m going to use these books and everything Cassie just told me to figure out how to make sure that happens to whatever extent you need it to. And you’re going toloveeverything I do, and every second of me doing it, too,” she said.
And he laughed, and shook his head as he replied.
“I have never in my life heard the wordlovesound so ominous.”
“Don’t lie. I can see you trying not to smile or look happy about it.”
“Hey, I can admit that I like someone caring that much. It just also makes me nervous for you,” he said, still bright about it when he did.
It was a little weird to see his face abruptly drop a moment later. And he bristled, too. He sat back in his seat and rolled his shoulders, like something was wrong. Then he reached up to the rearview mirror, and she knew before he added a few words on the end. “And especially when I’m getting tailed.”
At which point she bristled, too.
Though she tried not to read too much into it.
“What do you mean? The cops are following us?”
“No. No. Not the cops. Iwishit was the cops.”
“Old man Hannigan, then. He’s still mad at you for holleringbullshit when he said the library should only stock Christian books. Which I’m now realizing has probably more to it than you not liking oppressive religious impositions on our creative freedoms,” she said, pretty much babbling now, with just a soupçon of slowly rising fear. But he was good enough to go with it, even as he eyed that mirror.
“JC was a good dude, he would never have ordered people not to read.”
“And by that you mean you met him. He was a real man. He existed.”
“Most stuff religion is based on actually existed in one way or another. It’s just usually weirder and better about things than a bunch of old dudes made it out to be. None of which we have time to get into right now, because we’re about to get sideswiped by a hellhound.”
“There’s a hellhound after us?”
“Not just one. A bunch—I told you that helping me was gonna get you hurt.”
“So tell me what to do. Tell me how I can help.”
“Promise not to be mad at me when I do what I’m about to.”
“Jack. Jack, what do you mean? Jack, wait, don’t you dare do somethi—”
But it was too late. He was already somehow out of the truck, even though the truck was still moving. It was still barreling down the highway at sixty, like something she couldn’t see had simply taken his place in the driver’s seat. Or the driver’s seat didn’t actually need anyone in it for the truck to keep going.
Which seemed like the most ridiculous option.
But was also the one most likely to be true.
