“It is, and to just down it and run would be highly irresponsible.”
“Right. Can’t have the headlines tomorrow being about a drunk Shepherd found stumbling around Stadium Park.”
“Thank you for looking out for me.”
I smile and shake my head and then turn away to finish my work for the night. He tries to leave his usual tip, but I toss it back at him this time. “No fucking way.”
“What?” he asks, shock etched across his face.
“Leaving a tip like that means no food truck. Take it or leave it.”
He narrows his eyes playfully and I don’t miss that he glances down the bar at Cal quickly before pocketing his hundred-dollar bill. “Alright, deal.”
7
SHEPHERD
The city feels softer at night. Less demanding. Or maybe it’s because of who I’m with. We head toward Stadium Park, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. For a while, we don’t talk and it’s not even awkward. It’s just…easy.
“You do this a lot?” she asks finally.
“Walk?”
She bites back a smile. “No, disappear into normal places.”
“I’m a normal guy, aren’t I?”
She scoffs. “You aresonot a normal guy.”
“What?” I tease, bringing a hand to my chest. “You wound me.”
“Oh, I imagine you’ll recover quickly. Nothing an ice bath and some physical therapy won’t fix.”
“Ah, so you do know a little about football.”
“I don’t know a little about football,” she argues. “But I know enough.”
“Enough to mock it properly?”
“Exactly.” She smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind herear, a small act I wish I could do for her. “Know your enemy and all that.”
“Oh, so I’m the enemy now?”
“Not you specifically.” Her voice softens. “Just…the system.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I like going into what you call normal places because it reminds me who I am when nobody’s watching.”
She nods slowly.
“That’s fair.”
The night air feels good against my skin, cool but not cold. Portland in the fall has a particular smell. Damp earth, coffee, and something I can’t quite name. It feels good though, walking through it next to Sutton.
“So do you have a last name, Sutton?”
“Yep.” She nods. “So, these food trucks, they’re actually good?”
I laugh, noting that she isn’t telling me her last name just yet and consider it a personal challenge to earn the reward of learning it. “Some of the best food in Portland. Definitely better than anything with white tablecloths.”
