“So, Rebecca’s in school?”
“Yeah. It’s good to have her back.”
I nodded. “I bet.” I went on nodding, not sure what to say next.
Summer tilted her head, broke into a crooked smile. “You okay?”
I was tempted to just bring it up, but chickened out. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Even to me my voice sounded strained.
“Sooo,” Summer rolled her eyes to one side, made a popping sound with her lips. “There’s nothing you want to ask me?”
I looked into her eyes, searching for where she was going with this. She smiled, shrugged.
“Um, can you help me out here?” I asked. “There are a lot of things I want to ask you, but I’m having trouble figuring out how to dive in.”
Summer’s smile grew wider. “Well, I just thought you might have come over to ask me out. You know—dinner, or a movie. Maybe mini golf.”
I felt my chest loosen with relief. Yes, that was a fine place to start. “I did indeed come over for just that reason,” I said without missing a beat. I cleared my throat. “Would you go to dinner with me? With maybe a quick stop at the French Impressionist room at the High beforehand?”
Summer gave me a big, emphatic nod. “I’d love to. When?”
“Tonight, if that’s not too presumptuous?”
“Not at all. Tonight it is.” She put her finger to her lips. “No, wait, we’re going to Mick’s tonight, remember?”
“Right.” How could I have forgotten? Only asking Summer out for the first time could have blanked my mind like that. “Can I pick you up? We could go together.”
“Absolutely.”
She looked at her watch. “Ooh, I need to get going.” She held out her hand, soliciting a boost off the couch. “Walk me to my car?”
I took her hand, pulled her forward, holding my ground so we came face to face. I needed to get it out in the open, and this seemed like a good time. “What I said about you to Lorena? Normally I wouldn’t blurt out something like that before we’d even been on a date, you know? I feel a little weird.”
Summer took my other hand. “It’s okay, you don’t have to feel weird. I thought maybe you just said it to save me.” She shrugged, quickly added, “Which would be fine.”
“No, I pretty much meant it.”
She gave me a mock-questioning look. “Pretty much?”
“No.” I wrapped my arms around her waist. “Delete the ‘pretty much’ part. Leave the rest.”
This seemed like a good time to kiss her, so I did.
About the Author
Will McIntosh is a Hugo Award winner and Nebula Award finalist whose debut novel, Soft Apocalypse, was published by Night Shade in 2011. His short fiction has appeared in Asimov’s (where his story “Bridesicle” won the 2010 Reader’s Award, as well as the 2010 Hugo Award for Best Short Story), Strange Horizons, Science Fiction and Fantasy: Best of the Year, and others. A New Yorker transplanted to the rural south, Will is a psychology professor at Georgia Southern University, where he studies Internet dating, and how people’s TV, music, and movie choices are affected by recession and terrorist threat. In 2008 he became the father of twins.
Hitchers
© 2012 by Will McIntosh
This edition of Hitchers
© 2012 by Night Shade Books
Edited by Ross E. Lockhart
All rights reserved
eISBN : 978-1-597-80336-6
Night Shade Books
http://www.nightshadebooks.com
Hitchers Page 26
