“My momma always told me not to take candy from a stranger,” I quipped, taking the lollipop anyway—there was no way I was passing up blue raspberry. It was my favorite.
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a stranger.” He winked.
I unwrapped the lollipop and stuck it in my mouth. “Mmm,” I hummed, “that’s good.”
He laughed and grabbed one for himself. Sour apple.
We grew quiet for a moment, and then he broke the silence. “This feels good. It feels like you never left.”
I sighed, looking down at the worn ends of my shoes. “I wish I’d never left,” I muttered.
“Is it really that bad?” He asked. “College, I mean.”
I pulled the lollipop from my mouth. “I don’t know whether it’s college or me.”
“Ah, I see.” He nodded.
“You know me,” I continued, “I hate being confined. I thought once I graduated high school I’d be free to wander the world and do what I wanted, but then I felt like I needed to go to school, and maybe it is what I need but it’s not what I want.”
“So…maybe you take next year off,” he suggested.
“But I don’t know if that’s what I want. That’s the problem. I’m so confused.”
“What’s something you do want?” The white end of the lollipop stuck out between his lips.
“Well,” I slid the barstool back and kicked my feet up on the counter, “I wanted to go on a road trip and my so-called friends bailed. Assholes.” I muttered the last part under my breath.
He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because you’re such a delight to hang out with twenty-four-seven.”
I stuck my now blue tongue out at him.
Sobering, he walked around and sat on the empty barstool beside me. “Why don’t we go on a road trip?”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Me and you?”
“Sure, why not?” He shrugged, crunching down on his lollipop and chewing the candy. “I mean, we’re friends, I just finished restoring my Mustang, and getting out of here for a little while wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.”
“Would your dad let you take off work for that long? My plan was to head south and then west all the way to California to visit Liam,” I said, referring to my cousin who was only a few months older than me and like a brother, “and then come back up the northern route.”
“My dad won’t care.” Dean shrugged, tossing the lollipop stick in the direction of the trashcan. It hit the edge and bounced off. Dean never had much aim. It was a good thing he stuck to fixing cars and playing music. I didn’t think he went anywhere without his guitar.
Excitement flooded my body, nearly bubbling over.
“Are you sure?” I asked him one last time.
“Positive.”
“We’re really going to do this?”
He nodded.
“Thank you!” I squealed, nearly falling to the floor in my haste to hug him.
“Whoa,” he grunted in surprise when my body collided into his. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me back.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said a thousand more times before smacking a kiss against his stubbled cheek. “This is going to be epic.”
Before he could respond, I was out the door and down the steps.
I had a road trip to pack for.
Dean
The words had come out of my mouth before I even knew what I was saying.
Willow had that kind of effect on people…or maybe it was just me she effected that way.
There was something about her that had always drawn me in and made me want to protect her.
Although, Willow rarely needed protecting.
She was the take-charge kind of girl.
But when she explained about college, and then her failed road trip, I’d been willing to do anything to make her happy.
And that’s when I got a case of verbal diarrhea and said, “Why don’t we go on a road trip?”
I didn’t know what possessed me to say the words—other than the fact that this was Willow.
No one understood me quite the same way Willow did, and vice versa.
I knew, deep down, that she needed this trip, and that’s why I suggested we go together before I even thought things through.
I think I might’ve needed this trip too.
The monotony of working in the shop every day was wearing on me.
Don’t get me wrong, I liked cars. I liked the shop. I liked the guys. And I even liked working for my dad.
But doing the same thing day in and day out was getting old fast.
And Willow…she was a blazing light.
Even when she was sad she shone brighter than the sun and I wanted nothing more than to get close and feel her warmth.
Well, fuck.
I sounded like I was in love.
I was most definitely not in love with my friend.
I mean, I loved her, sure…but not like that.
Leaving my apartment I headed back down into the shop and to the back office.
I knocked on the door and waited for my dad to say, “Come in,” before opening the door.
“Whatcha need, son?” He asked, looking up from the computer.
His dark hair was longer in the front and shorter on the sides, much the same as mine. We even shared the same green eyes and hollowed cheekbone structure. It was safe to say I was the spitting image of my dad. The only thing that set us apart were the laugh lines by his eyes and mouth.
I didn’t think he would be mad if I asked for time off, but he was still a business owner and needed the help, so there was the chance he could be pissed.
In a rush, the words tumbled out of my mouth. “I’m going on a road trip with Willow and I need a few weeks off. I understand if you can’t give me the time off, because I know that’s a long time, so if you need to fire me that’s okay. No hard feelings.” I kept my hands at my sides, not wanting to seem defensive.
He was quiet, and I feared that meant he was mad.
But then he burst into laughter. “Oh, Dean, you’re so much like your mother sometimes it scares me. You got my looks but you got her personality.”
“Uh…” I crooked my lips, unsure of where he was going with this.
“Of course you can have the time off,” he chortled. “You put in more time here than anyone else. We’ll survive without you for a while. Go have fun and enjoy being twenty-one. You’re only young once and then it’s over.”
I laughed, ducking my head so my hair tumbled over my forehead. I pushed it away with a rough shove of my fingers.
“So, you’re cool with this?” I hesitated in the doorway.
He nodded. “Of course. Just promise to call your mom a lot. You know she’ll worry.”
“I can do that.” I’d probably forget.
“When do you think you’ll leave?” He questioned, his eyes straying back to the computer screen.
“Knowing Willow…as soon as possible.”
My dad chuckled and scratched at his bearded jaw. “Should’ve known. Come over for dinner tonight then. Your mom will want to see you before you leave. Not to mention your brother and sister.”
I tucked my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “Will do.”
I headed out into the shop to finish the car I’d been working on—an old minivan that had seen much better days. But the owner, a single mom in her twenties, couldn’t afford a new car, so I wanted to make sure I had it running as smooth as possible.
It was still light out by the time I headed upstairs to my apartment to shower and get ready.
Since I didn’t have dinner with my family much anymore I opted to dress up a bit—meaning, jeans not covered in grease and a clean white tee.
The last of the guys had left and the shop was dark when I headed down to my car—a 1966 baby blue mustang convertible.
It was my pride and joy.
Found her at a junkyard, pretty much destroyed with rusting paint and rip
ped seats. The engine had needed a complete overhaul—everything had, really.
It’d taken me a long time to save up the money for all the parts—I had refused to ask my dad for the money even though I knew he would’ve handed it over willingly—and then find the time to fix it.
But she was done and she was perfect.
I kept the top down on the car as I drove to the other side of town to the home I grew up in.
The brick pathway leading up the front door glowed from the light of these little lanterns my mom had placed. The front door was painted a bright cherry red and it stood out against the gray stone and white siding exterior.
I parked in the driveway and headed in through the garage.
After I moved out, I’d come over once and knocked on the front door. My mom had been upset that I thought I needed permission to come inside, and now insisted that I just let myself inside.
I heard the raucous symphony of my family coming from the kitchen and followed the sound.
They were already seated around the large kitchen table with plates covered in some kind of pasta dish.
“Dean!” My fifteen-year-old brother Lincoln cried out.
“Hey, Linc.” I ruffled his shaggy brown hair before taking a seat beside him. My mom was on the end nearest me and I leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Mom.”
She smiled at me, her brown eyes filled with warmth. “Your dad says you’re going on a road trip with Willow.”
The way she said Willow’s name let me know I was in trouble.
My mom had believed something was going on with Willow and me for years. Nothing I said could convince her otherwise.
“That’s true.” I shoveled a pile of the pasta onto my plate. “This looks good, ma.”
“Don’t try and change the subject,” she warned me with a glint in her eyes. She smiled slowly. “What prompted this?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “She was supposed to go on a trip with her friends from school, they bailed, so I stepped in.”
Her lips pressed together like she was fighting an even bigger smile.
“Out with it, mom. We both know you’re going to say whatever it is anyway.”
I shoved a forkful of food into my mouth and waited for what she had to say.
“You’ve always had to be her hero.”
“Wha?” I choked, pieces of pasta falling out of my mouth.
Linc pounded my back. “Breathe through the pain,” he chortled.
I punched him in the shoulder.
“Boys!” My mom admonished.
Across the table my sister Grace let out a sigh. “Why couldn’t I have had a sister?”
“Because my sperm didn’t swing that way,” my dad responded with a straight face.
Grace gagged. “Ew, dad! Don’t say that ever again!”
“You know you love us.” I smiled at Grace and she mouthed ew again. It was probably because I had pieces of pasta stuck between my teeth.
“Wait,” she frowned, “does this mean you’re going to miss my graduation?”
“Sorry, Gracie.” I shrugged in a whatcha-gonna-do gesture.
“You can’t wait to leave? My graduation is Friday. That’s only three days away.”
I shrugged again. “I’ll talk to Willow. She’ll probably be cool with it and want to go. I mean, you guys are friends too, right?”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I thought so, until she left for college. I never heard from her after that. I texted her a few times and just got a few one word responses so I gave up.”
“Aw, Gracie, you know how she is. She gets so focused on what she’s doing that she forgets the rest of the world is still turning. She hasn’t talked to me in forever either.”
“And yet she somehow managed to speak to you long enough to get you to go on a road trip with her.”
“Hey,” I said in a warning tone, “I offered. She didn’t ask.”
Grace frowned down at her plate. I knew she was probably hurt by Willow’s radio silence, and that hurt had only been deepened by the fact that I was the first one Willow came to.
At eighteen, Grace was closer in age to Willow than I was, but age didn’t have anything on the connection between Willow and me.
“Gracie,” I said softly and she looked up with forlorn brown eyes, “I’ll be at your graduation, I promise.” Willow could hold out on her trip for a few more days.
Her lips twitched with the threat of a smile.
“Come on,” I coaxed with a grin, “it’s okay to smile. You know you want me there.”
She finally smiled. “Thank you.”
I dipped my head in acknowledgment of her words.
“Do you want me to ask Willow if she wants to come?”
I wasn’t going to invite Willow to Grace’s graduation if she didn’t want her there.
“Yeah,” she nodded, pushing around a piece of pasta with the end of her fork. “I’m not getting my hopes up, though.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Willow
“No, absolutely not.” My dad made a slashing motion with his arms and hands.
“What?” I shrieked. “Why not?”
“Because I’m your father and I said so.” He lifted the hedgehog he held onto his shoulder.
“You were fine with me going on a road trip with Lauren and Greta!” I exclaimed, feeling defensive.
“Yeah, well they’re girls,” he muttered.
“Oh I see,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “But don’t you think I’d be better protected on the road by a guy?” I argued. With a frown, I added, “Although, this is Dean and he’s more of a lover than a fighter. But if we encountered anything bad I’m sure he could bore an assailant to death with his vast knowledge of Pokémon.”
He moved into the kitchen and I followed. No way was I letting the conversation end here.
“If that’s your way of trying to convince me to let you drive all the way across the country with a guy you’re certainly not helping yourself.” He pulled out a barstool and took a seat. Grabbing the hedgehog, who was trying to make her way into his hair, he said, “Isn’t that right, Amy? She’s crazy if she thinks I’m letting her do this.”
“Dad,” I groaned, “stop talking to the hedgehog and listen to me.”
“I did listen to you,” he argued, “and I told you no.”
“I’m nineteen,” I explained, trying to keep from sounding whiny, “I’ve been gone for a year at college. If I can survive that by myself I can certainly handle a road trip with Dean unscathed.”
“Yes, you’re nineteen,” he agreed, “and he’s a twenty-one year old guy. I know what I was thinking about at twenty-one.” He began to swivel his hips in a suggestive manner.
“Oh, ew.” I gagged. “Jeez, dad, that was unnecessary. Besides, it’s not like that with Dean and me. We’re just friends.”
He snorted.
“It’s true!”
“What’s going on in here?” My mom asked as she breezed into the kitchen, her long skirt billowing around her legs.
“Thank God you’re here,” I sighed in relief, “maybe you can be the voice of reason.”
“Our daughter wants to go on a road trip with a guy,” my dad told her.
Before my mom could respond I hastened to add, “Dean. I want to go on a road trip with Dean. Not some random stranger like he’s making it sound.”
“Dad, stop being a fun sucker,” my brother, Mascen, called from the family room.
My dad sighed wearily. “When did my kids become teenagers that like to gang up on me?” He muttered the words to himself.
My mom sidled up to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t see anything wrong with her going with Dean. We’ve known him since he was a baby. He’s a part of the family.”
My dad growled.
Legit growled.
Like an angry bear.
“It’s like you’re all conspiring against me,” he muttered. “I can’t trust any of you. At least I
have my hedgehogs.” He stroked the quills of Amy. “They would never betray me this way.”
My mom patted his shoulder and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Poor baby. You’ll get over it.”
To me he said, “I’m not saying yes, but I’m not saying no yet either. Let me think about it, and whatever my decision is you need to respect it.”
“Thank you, daddy!” I hugged him tight, hoping the gesture would make him lean towards saying yes.
“I haven’t said yes!” He warned as I ran from the kitchen and up the stairs.
“But you will!” I sing-songed.
“That one will be the end of me,” I heard him mutter to my mom before I topped the stairs.
In the hallway I ran into my little sister Lylah.
Her sandy blonde hair, a darker shade than mine, curled around her shoulders. She was tall and willowy, graceful like a dancer even though she’d never set foot into a studio in her whole life.
“Willow!” She grinned when she saw me and light reflected off her metal braces. “I didn’t know you were home!” She barreled into my arms. “I missed you!”
Lylah was five years younger than me, but that didn’t stop us from being close.
“I missed you too.”
“Did Mascen know you were coming home?” She asked. “I’m going to kill him if he kept it a secret.”
I laughed and leaned against the wall. “He didn’t know and he barely glanced away from the TV when I came in. Granted, I was too busy arguing with dad to really say hi,” I frowned. Turning back towards the stairway I yelled, “Hi, Mascen!”
His laughter echoed downstairs. “I tried to help you out with dad and you’re just now acknowledging my presence? I see how it is!” He yelled back.
I stuck my tongue out even though he couldn’t see.
“Movie night later?” I asked Lylah, but loud enough for Mascen to hear.
“Hell yes!” Mascen called.
Movie night was a tradition for my siblings and me. We rotated who got to pick the movie and while we watched it we would dissect every little thing, sometimes adding our own lines and coming up with outlandish theories about what was going to happen—even if it was a movie we’d already seen ten times. Our game probably made no sense to anyone else, but we loved it.
The Road That Leads to Us Page 2
