East Down South

by Eliza Freer

  I pause for just a second before responding. I don’t owe him an explanation about Grant, or why I agreed to go out with Grant so quickly but have been keeping Wilder at an arms length, but I don’t want to lie to him either.

  ME: The femme name and all it’s varieties is between you and izzy to figure out. if you get her blessing then it’s fine by me. most things are better than kitten. and yes, i do have a date. shocking as that might be for some to believe.

  My phone starts ringing soon after I sent that last text through. It’s Wilder of course.

  “Hi, Wilder.”

  “Hi? Are you kidding me? You seriously have a date? I’ve been asking you out for a week solid almost and all you’ve done is turn me down. So who are you going out with then? This guy must be special.”

  “Easy there, cowboy. I don’t know him well, he’s a friend’s brother. Yes, you have been asking me out for a week, and yes I have been turning you down. Doesn’t mean I always will, it just means right now…right now I am. I'm not telling you to give up, but I know you might now since you know I’m dating.”

  Wilder sighs. “I told you yesterday, I’m not giving up until you say yes, but this is definitely an unexpected wrinkle. Am I crazy? I thought there was some weird link. Some, I don’t know, just feels different with you. Right?”

  I smile. “Yes, to answer your question, you are crazy. That’s a given. It’s different, you’re not wrong. Look, I haven’t dated for awhile and this guy, he’s…he’s not complicated.”

  There’s a long pause. “Look, East, I swear I’m not usually this guy. But, if uncomplicated and boring is what you want, you won’t get that with me. So, if that’s what you’re looking for…”

  I cut him off. “No, okay, it’s not. I mean, it is, for today, but it’s not either.” I sigh. “Truth time? You and me. There’s like an undercurrent or something. Like an electricity and we run on the same weird wavelength. That’s new to me and honestly freaks me out. Like I said I haven’t dated for awhile, and quite frankly when it comes to you and me…” I take a long pause. I realize all of my hesitation in saying yes to him is because of one very solid point. “When it comes whatever you and me might or might not be…I know it’ll either be really, amazingly great and just everything, or you’ll break my heart. Like really, really break it. And I’m just still sorta preparing myself for either outcome.” I laugh, “Talk about something sounding crazy.”

  Wilder is quiet. “No. Not crazy. Ok. I just..Ok. I’ll see you soon, East.”

  With that he hangs up, unsure where we’ve left things. I can’t worry about that now, however, I have to finish getting ready for my date with handsome, kind, smart, uncomplicated Grant.

  Chapter 7

  Grant rings our doorbell right at seven-thirty, no surprise there. He texted me earlier telling me to “dress casual”, which is great since I don’t own many non-casual things, outside of dresses I sometimes have to wear to my dad’s football events.

  I hop down the stairs, pulling my green high top Chucks on as I go, which look great with my skinny jeans and my off the shoulder green sweatshirt. It might be Texas in August, but this girl loves her long sleeves.

  I open the door and smile as Grant stands there with dark blue jeans, a light gray t-shirt with the Hamilton University crest on it and white and blue Adidas. He couldn’t look more like a college guy if he tried.

  “Ready to go?” he asks as I grab my keys and pull the front door shut. My dad wasn’t home yet to do the whole intimidation thing, so I promised him next time I’d set my dates around his schedule.

  “Sounds good. You still haven’t told me what we’re doing.” I follow him out to his black jeep where he holds the passenger door open for me.

  “It’s a surprise, but I’m sure you’ll love it. I didn’t cheat and ask Izzy what you might like to do or anything, so it’s all me.” He turns and smiles at me.

  I smile back, hiding the grimace at the word surprise. I hate surprises. I think they’re the worst. Even me and my dad, any holiday or birthday we make each other lists for what we want as gifts. Santa Claus is also a very practical guy who sticks to basic necessities your parents don’t want to give you as gifts because that feels like a cheat. Well, that and lottery tickets. Just in case. Does make me wonder if I were to win big if I would have to cut him in on the profits. I wonder if those “letters to Santa” mailboxes are up year-around.

  “Easton? How does that sound?” Grant looks at me expectantly.

  I realize I must’ve zoned out, I have legitimate questions about what kind of cut Santa would expect from my lottery winnings, and ask very demurely, “Huh? Sorry. Repeat that?”

  He laughs. “I said the place we're going also serves food if you’re cool eating some pretty basic grub. You’re not someone who only likes fancy food or something, right?”

  I turn and face him while he drives to our mystery location. “Oh, no not at all. I prefer as un-fancy as you can get. Any time I have to attend some fancy event with my dad I always ask if they have chicken fingers or nachos or something in the back. Huh…”

  Grant furrows his brow, “Whatcha thinking about?”

  “Just wondering if my choice in food has anything to do with growing up in stadiums and having concession foods kinda rock my world for all these years. Either that, or Dad and I used to eat dinner at lots of truck stops, and I’ve blocked out those sad memories.”

  Grant laughs. “You’re funny. In a different, less aggressive way that I’m used to with Izzy. With you, I feel like you might be telling me I’m an idiot without me even knowing it because I’m so blinded by how smart and witty you are, that I lose track of whether an insult is coming my way. But with Izzy it’s just out there and in your face. “I think you’re a dumbass,” enter sassy line here.”

  “Yes, well, that’s why we complement each other so well. I love your sister. She’s been a saving grace at the coffee shop. But, I appreciate the compliment. I think originally I used humor as a defense mechanism, but then as I perfected it and became a black belt in sarcasm and cleverness, it just became a part of my brand. Now it’s hard to separate that from me.” I look at my hands as I say this, knowing it’s true, but that I also messed up with the whole “defense mechanism” line.

  “Why would you need a defense mechanism? Just normal kid stuff? Growing up is hard and kids are assholes that pick on each other?” Grant looks at me with kind eyes. I know he’s not trying to pry, just get to know me better. What he doesn’t know is how hard that’s going to be.

  “Yeah, something like that. Just, kid stuff.” I look back at him and smile. I know the smile doesn’t quite reach my eyes, so I don’t know if he’s buying it or not, but that’s all I’m selling tonight.

  He focuses on the road again. “Well my biggest tormenter ended up being my younger sister, if you can believe it, which I’m sure you can. Makes me think maybe you were lucky being an only child.”

  I laugh. “Yes, but my imaginary friends sometimes really laid into me. Dad had to break up those fights all the time.”

  He laughs, a real, deep, sexy laugh and pulls into the parking lot of our date location. He parks, turns off the engine, and looks at me with a huge smile on his face.

  “So, what do you think?” he asks very excitedly. I know it’s going to be hard to keep my frown under control.

  I smile. “Bowling. I’ve never had anyone take me bowling on a first date before. What, um, what made you think of this?”

  He hops out of the car and walks around to open the car door for me. I slide out of the car, and we start walking toward the entrance of the alley. “Well. Just from what I know about you, your dad is a football coach, so that athletic competitive energy must run in your genes. Second, you had some awesome aim and seemed to have a lot of fun with that beer pong game at the party. Third, I thought you’d look really cute in the bowling shoes.”

  He opens the door for me and smiles. “Good surprise?�
��

  I hate bowling. I can’t even really explain why I hate bowling so much, but I do. Back home in Ohio a lot of my friends were in a league and they always tried to get me to join. Apparently, it’s a pastime that everyone in America loves sans Easton Alexa Collins. I didn’t receive the memo upon birth that this was expected of me. However, my first few moments as a newborn in a hospital were a little rocky, so maybe the memo was lost along with my mother.

  I smile back. “Definitely a surprise. Good, fun, yes.” I wonder when I started talking like Borat, unable to complete a full sentence. “Let’s do this!”

  Grant puts his hand on my lower back, and guides me over to the desk where you get your shoes. I tell them my size and they hand me a very attractive pair of blue and red bowling shoes. They direct us towards a lane and Grant and I grab bowling balls.

  “Okay, so ladies first, obviously. Not evidenced by Izzy, but our mother did raise us to have manners. Also, I think if we press this button here, the waitress comes and takes our order. So…nachos, fries, pizza, burgers…what are you feeling?” Grant sits down and pulls on his bowling shoes.

  “Dealer’s choice. I can eat all of those things. What I mean by that is, I could eat all of those things in one sitting, or if you prefer one more than the other, you pick.” I stand up and head over to the screen to type our names in so we can get going on our game.

  Grant presses on the button, and not long after a waitress appears. “We’ll take the nachos with everything, french fries with ketchup and ranch, small pepperoni pizza, two cheeseburgers, and two cokes, please. Coke is okay isn’t it?”

  I smile at the amount of food he’s ordering for us, knowing I will eat it all. “Coke is great. Thanks.”

  The waitress finishes writing down our order. Grant smiles at her, and she turns and heads back to the cafe area.

  “You’re probably thinking I’m a liar and there’s no way I can eat my body weight in preservatives and bowling alley food, but you would be mistaken. You know how to treat a girl right.” I grab my ball and head towards the lane for my first shot.

  Grant chuckles. “Well you’re not just any girl, Easton. You deserve the best.”

  I line up my shot but also frown. Am I a horrible person going out with Grant when he might have some real feelings for me? I tamp down those thoughts. I don’t know that I DON’T have feelings for Grant, I just know that I do have some for Wilder.

  The constant loop in my brain makes my shot go wide, and I only knock down three pins. I hear an “OOOOH" from where Grant is sitting. I make my way back over to the ball return for my next shot. I guess if bowling is what we’re doing, then I should at least try to win. I knock down the rest of my pins, and come away with a spare for my first go.

  After we bowl a few more frames our food comes and takes up the entire row of seats on our right. Grant and I take a break and sit on the dirty floor to eat our dinner.

  “So, Grant, if you had a gun to your head and you were only able to tell me the three most important things about yourself, what would they be?” I take a large bite out of my cheeseburger and wait for his answer.

  He chokes on the fry he's eating and takes a large sip of Coke to wash it down. “I don’t know why a guy would have a gun to my head and then ask me personal questions, but okay. Three things. I’m going to pick three things you don’t already know about me. Just know, the sister thing would be on the list, if you didn’t already know Izzy.”

  “Noted. These don’t have to be in a specific order either, by the way.”

  “Okay, One. I wanted to be a pirate for years. That was my life goal for awhile. I don’t know how exactly I thought I’d achieve it, I think I thought if I wore bandanas and didn’t eat enough Vitamin C, it might work out for me.” He takes a bite of pizza and turns his head to the side thinking.

  I pop a fry in my mouth. “Okay, pause. Did you, at the time, realize pirates are not good guys. Like the whole rape and pillage thing? The killing people to steal their treasures? Like were you a disturbed youth, or did you just really like pirate movies and words like “yaaarrrrghhh”?”

  He laughs and finishes off his slice of pizza. “I think I had a Halloween costume of a pirate one year and the girls loved my sword, so, I thought if I were a pirate I could get all the girls. I have changed my mind since, but only after seeing Captain Phillips.”

  I laugh out loud. “So you held this belief for more than a few years. Well…and I mean this in as much of a non-sexual way as I can, but I assume you will show me the sword you undoubtedly have in your apartment.”

  He smiles. “I’ll let the innuendo go, and my sword is in storage since I let my apartment go when I traveled abroad last year. When it’s back, you're on!”

  I smile, realizing I’m enjoying this conversation. "Okay, two.”

  “Two. I don’t really want to live in a big city when I graduate. Which, doesn’t make a lot of sense since that’s where a lot of architecture firms are, but I like more open spaces. So, maybe somewhere like Washington? You can live in someplace just a couple hours outside of a city like Seattle and still get the best of both worlds. So, yeah, right now that’s my plan.”

  “So, getting out of Texas. I get that, I don’t plan on staying either. I don’t have it all mapped out like you do, but maybe East Coast. Sorry, I’m butting into your three. Last one, matey.”

  He laughs, “Okay, three. I’ve had two serious girlfriends in my life. The first one ended after we graduated from the 6th grade, the other one when I left for my study abroad. She didn’t think we could handle the time apart as college kids. Because, apparently, we’re quite promiscuous as a group in general.” He digs into his cheeseburger, “your turn.”

  I finish the slice of pizza I’m eating and take a deep breath. “Okay, one. I’m not originally from Texas, I’m a transplant from Ohio. So the idea of living in wide open spaces has already been my life at one point. So, I’m the opposite. I’d like to be in a city, just not in Texas, really. I miss more temperate weather.”

  He nods and we both take drinks of our cokes and reach for another slice of pizza. “I’m not surprised you’re not from Texas. The no accent thing, and, I don’t know, you just seem different.”

  I snort. “That I am. Okay, two. Regardless of my dad being a football coach, I don’t really give a crap about football. I know some of the names of the positions and I can appreciate watching a game. I go to enough of them for my dad and the players I’m friends with, but it’s not like I can talk strategy or go over someone’s stats. Dad never cared if I was into the family business, so I ended up into other things, knowing enough football to get by.”

  He smiles. “That surprises me. I’d think with all the men in your life they’d kinda demand you to know more. I mean, they seem to like being with you, so I’d assume they’d want you to be fully integrated in that world.”

  I tilt my head. “Well, I’m not saying they wouldn’t LOVE it if I knew more, but they know it’s just not going to be that way and they seem to like me whatever way they can get me, so they just don’t push it.”

  He nods and eats three fries at once. “So what are these other things you got into?”

  I shake my head. “I think that’s cheating based on the rules of the game, but I opened the door so I’ll allow it.”

  He laughs, “Thanks, Your Honor. Proceed.”

  I chuckle, “Literature. Books. Words. That’s my thing. I read…a lot. Most of the time I like books more than people, and I love filling my head and heart with these worlds I could never experience in real life, so it’s more than just reading to me. It’s…transformation. It’s a journey. I don’t know. That sounds snobby and weird I know, but that’s my love.”

  “That’s very poetic, Easton. Not weird at all. You’re incredibly smart. And I say that without really knowing you, you can just tell with some people, and you’re one of those people. Okay, three.”

  I wipe my hands on my jeans havin
g finished off my fair share of the food and sucking down the remnants of my Coke. “Three. I think I’d be a pretty good assassin. I have aim, a killer’s intuition, utter disregard of life. I like wearing skinny jeans and black, so it’s a good fit I think.” I hope he’s not going to drill too much into my shallow, sarcastic answer like Wilder would. He’d call me on deflecting and being afraid of getting too real.

  “Just for argument’s sake, you definitely do not have an utter disregard for life, you enjoy it too much, but yeah, assassin. Plus, if I weren’t one of the targets, I think lady assassins are hot.”

  We stand from the floor and throw our trash away. We turn back towards our lane and pick up our game where we left off. I’m ahead, but might let him win. He actually seems to enjoy bowling, so it’s only fair.

  ********************

  We finish off two more games, he “won” two of the three. I’m pretty sure he knows that I threw the last game, but he hasn’t called me on it. We turn in our shoes and head back out to his jeep. He holds the door open for me again and I slide in, having as a good a time as one can when bowling.

  We make the drive back to my house without much talking. Mostly listening to the radio that’s tuned into a classic rock station. When he pulls up to my house, he quickly gets out of the car and comes and opens my door for me. I step out and move towards my front door. The inside lights are on, so I know Dad is home.

  “Well, Grant, thank you for tonight. It was nice.”

  He takes a step in. “I had a really good time. We should do it again sometime.” He’s closer to me than I’d like.

  I lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, keeping my hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you around the coffee shop right?” He nods and takes a step back. “Thank you again for tonight.” With that, I turn around and walk in my house, locking the door when I get inside. I hear his car start and him drive away.