Along for the Ride

by Mimi Grace

  They arrived at a checkout line with one person ahead of them.

  “I’m an enigma,” he said as he gave her a quick kiss on her temple. It was the first time he’d publicly been affectionate with her, but it had come so naturally that he hadn’t thought about it. When she didn’t balk at the contact, he brushed any misgivings away.

  “What’s up, Jason?”

  Jason looked up from loading their groceries onto the conveyor belt to see Anthony working behind the counter as one of the store’s cashiers.

  “Hey, man, what happened to McDonald’s?” Jason asked.

  Anthony ran an item’s barcode and placed it into a plastic bag. “This pays better.” He flashed a smile. “I got a last-minute interview.”

  “Cool, how’s your summer going otherwise?” Jason asked, aware that Jolene stood beside him, watching their interaction.

  The young man shrugged. “It’s been all right. I didn’t make the first cut for the science competition.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry.” Jason wished he could turn this loss around and miraculously make things better.

  “It’s okay. I still have my senior year.” Anthony nodded toward Jolene. “Is this your girl?”

  Jolene laughed. “No. A friend. Jolene.” She offered her hand for Anthony to shake.

  Anthony took her hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

  If the smile that Anthony was sending Jason’s way was any indication, the kid didn’t believe the “friend” moniker. While their transaction processed, Jolene did most of the small talk, and Jason was amazed once again at how easy and effortless mingling was for her. Jason also tried to figure out why the idea of Jolene being his, legitimately and officially, simultaneously warmed him and made a sharp pang of anxiety settle in his stomach.

  Once their groceries were paid for, Jason nodded to Anthony. “I’ll see you after summer break. Stay out of trouble.”

  Jolene browsed his vinyl collection as he stored the leftover food they had for dinner. She’d called his lasagna “incredible,” and he’d actually blushed. It was like the previous compliments he’d received from roommates, family, and all the other people he’d ever cooked for had been suspect until she’d confirmed it. He felt off balance by his response to her. The version of himself that he was with Jolene was foreign but oddly comfortable.

  The whole reason his arrangement with Jolene existed was because he’d wanted to get out of his comfort zone and perhaps find some sort of movement in his stale life. Mission fucking accomplished because he now hurtled toward something he couldn’t identify or control.

  “How long have you been volunteering with the after-school program?” she asked.

  He peeked into his living room where she crouched in front of his shelf.

  “Three years. One of my patients is a program coordinator. They needed volunteers a few years ago, and it got me thinking about how I would’ve appreciated that type of program when I was younger. And so, I just decided to do it.”

  “I always forget that even though you come off as perfect, you haven’t had a perfect life.”

  Jason drew closer to her. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Good.” He reached above her head to pull out the vinyl of Stevie Wonder’s Songs In the Key of Life, and showed it to her.

  “Oh my God.” She grabbed the record from him to study the cover art.

  He knew she liked seventies music, and if he didn’t already own a lot of the albums of popular artists from the era, the glee on her face at that moment would have had him running to Amazon to make several purchases.

  He took the record from her hands and placed it in the player. “Which song?”

  “Let’s go with ‘Sir Duke’ first.”

  The sound of braggadocios horns in the intro filled his living room, and Jolene’s face broke into a smile. Then Stevie’s voice came, and Jolene sang, adding her adorably off-tune vocals while she grooved to the music.

  “Your neighbors are going to hate you!” she said over the loud music.

  “They won’t believe it’s me.”

  She laughed and grabbed his hands so he would move with her. His objections died on his tongue, and he stopped resisting once he saw that she would just continue to move his stiff arms if he didn’t just surrender. He mimicked her relaxed fluid motions and mimed air trumpets when they came in. He lost himself in the music and also sang with his decent voice holding the melody that Jolene’s didn’t care to.

  She twirled into the next song and at one point even tripped over the corner of his rug but caught herself. She posed as if the whole thing was part of intricate choreography. He let out a laugh that left his cheeks and abs aching, and she turned to him long enough to smile a fetching smile that was all teeth and mirth. She didn’t stop moving her body and even added some current dance crazes, but she wasn’t trying to be sexy or even funny. The moment circled its way through his body. Pulling on strings and memories and dormant hopes and dreams until a light, buoyant feeling settled within him.

  He was falling in love with Jolene.

  The realization all but took his breath away, and he stopped dancing so abruptly that Jolene took notice and stopped as well.

  She reached for him. “What’s wrong?”

  This was the same woman he’d been dancing with a few moments ago, but everything was different now. He stared at her for a few beats. The music continued to drone on in the background.

  With her hand grasping his forearm, he forced the next words from out of him. “I don’t think our arrangement can go on.” He delivered the line mechanically with precision, like he told patients about the shitty side effects of certain prescription medicines.

  She let go of his arm and looked at him, the worry that had pressed her brows melted away and was replaced with a more neutral expression. “Where’s this coming from?”

  How did he let himself start to care like this? He studied her closely. Was she starting to care for him in a different way than she cared for him as a friend? God, he wanted that to be the case, so maybe their arrangement had a chance to morph into something more…serious.

  “Look at us, Jolene. We’re dancing and laughing in my living room.” He rubbed his face. “I don’t do that.” Knowing he had to be honest with her and himself. “This is no longer casual for me.”

  “I see.”

  She had convinced herself in the last couple of weeks she could do this thing a while longer. All she had to do was talk her feelings into submission, but she now stood in Jason’s living room and he told her that he had feelings for her (or at least that’s what she thought he said). She had to control the thrill that ran through her at the idea of him liking her beyond the stiff parameters they had created for themselves.

  Besides, she wasn’t ready or willing to investigate the feelings she may or may not have for Jason. The biggest project in her career currently needed her complete attention. Maybe they could revisit the conversation at a later date. This arrangement was supposed to be a fun distraction, but all the thoughts tumbling through her head were not pleasant. Damn him.

  “So, what you’re saying is that the clownfish and anemone aren’t helping each other out anymore.” She knew her attempt to diffuse the awkwardness failed when Jason just looked at her.

  “What I’m saying is that I like you.”

  “I like you too. That’s what makes this”—she gestured between them—“perfect. Why change that right now?”

  “We obviously want different things.”

  She could feel him shutting her out, and she wanted to undo everything. She had fun with him and not just in a sexual context. And maybe that was enough for some people to build lasting romantic relationships from, but Jolene needed more assurance. She needed to take her time because she’d seen firsthand that mere attraction and rapport did not make a relationship worth exploring. She just remained there looking at him, feeling the bile churn in her stomach.

  “Yes
, we do.”

  He silently walked over to where she’d dumped her duffle bag when she’d arrived. “I’ll walk you out, then.”

  Jolene’s heart shifted to some sort of painful place. She wanted to linger here for as long as possible because she knew deep down that though their relationship wouldn’t return to the weird hostile one that existed just a few months ago, it would be as distant.

  “Jojo.” It sounded like a plea.

  “Let’s stay friends,” she said almost desperately.

  He averted his gaze. “Sure.”

  The bland acceptance irked Jolene. She could sense he held back. He wanted to get something off his chest.

  Her heart rate sped up. “Say it,” she said.

  “Say what?”

  “That thing you want to say. Just say it.”

  For a moment she thought he would just ask her to leave, but then he said, “Why haven’t you taken the plunge and started your PR business?”

  She took a step backwards as if she’d been pushed. “What? Where is this coming from?”

  “It’s just”—he took a breath—“you feel deeply. I see it. I feel it. But you stop yourself from acting on anything real because…you’re scared.”

  She made a sound that was a cross between a harrumph and a laugh. “Okay? And what does this have to do with our relationship, our friendship?”

  “I think it’s related.”

  The record player skipping was the only sound left after Jason stopped speaking. How long had it been doing that? The hiccupping sound matched Jolene’s disbelief that the moment had devolved to this. She wanted to go back to them dancing in his living room, but instead, she now knew what he really thought of her. He thought she was a coward. She stared at him for a long time and he at her.

  “You keep assuming you know me more than you actually do,” she said, her voice hoarse like her internal screaming had actually affected her.

  “I—”

  She cut him off. “No, I’m good. I don’t need a guy whose social circle only includes three people, to psychoanalyze me.”

  She wanted the comment to hurt, but he just smiled wryly.

  “Tell me I’m wrong, then.”

  She stepped up close to him and tilted her head to meet his gaze. She wasn’t touching him, but she wanted him to see her anger, feel it radiating from every pore. “Fuck you.”

  “We’re no longer doing that, remember?”

  She grabbed the duffle bag from his hand and walked out of his apartment. He followed close behind her. She got into the elevator, and he entered it with her.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s late. Let me walk you to your car,” he said softly, the fire in his eyes temporarily dissipated. Of course, the always-perfect Jason Akana tried to be responsible even with all the emotions between them.

  She straightened her spine. “I don’t need you to.”

  He didn’t respond, and she didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. The elevator closed and took them down to the lobby of the building. He escorted her all the way outside but stopped well before she got to her car. She didn’t turn around to say anything else. She couldn’t say anything else, lest she burst into tears. She drove off and only let the tears flow when she arrived home.

  Chapter 22

  It was a Saturday afternoon, and Jason had just dropped off his aunt at her place and now drove his mom back home, where he planned to complete some tasks around the house.

  “I didn’t like the instructor today,” his mother said from her place in the passenger seat.

  She and Aunt Liza had joined a modern dance workout class at the community center. He responded with a grunt.

  “You know how I hate those radio songs,” she said.

  She continued to prattle on about trivial things until they entered the house. He hadn’t contributed much, but that didn’t seem to bother or stop her. He removed ingredients from the fridge to make his mother a post-workout smoothie.

  “Jolene called me this week to cancel her RSVP to your birthday—”

  It was the first thing Jason had really registered the entire day. Hearing Jolene’s name come up as if she hadn’t dropped off the face of the planet like it felt she had, left him momentarily speechless. He wished he had social media just so he could feel some sort of tether, however slight, to her.

  “Did she say why?” he finally asked.

  His mother looked at him curiously. “She said something had come up that she couldn’t get out of.”

  He nodded and continued to assemble the blender.

  “Did you break up?”

  He closed his eyes and let his head flop to his chest. “We were never dating.”

  “It didn’t seem like that. You were close.”

  “Friends.” He dumped some frozen fruit and protein powder into the blender.

  “So, you’re not friends anymore?”

  He thought about how they ended it. Had it only been a week and a half ago?

  “What did you do?”

  He had to laugh past the needling guilt over what he’d said to Jolene that night. “Nothing, Mom. We’re busy people and not as compatible as friends.”

  His mother shrugged. “She was good for you. She pulled you out of your shell...but I understand if she’s not the one.”

  The sound of the blender paused their conversation, and Jason watched the ingredients combine and transform into maroon slush that ran smoothly against the blades. He missed the droning noise when it stopped.

  “You two remind me of your father and me.”

  Jason clenched his jaw against a reaction. “You and Dad were perfect for each other. I never saw you two fight once.” If marriage and kids were to ever come into Jason’s life, his parents’ short time together would be the prototype of an ideal relationship.

  His mom let out a humored grunt. “You’re a heavy sleeper, and you also see the time we had with your father with rose-tinted glasses.”

  He handed her the smoothie in a glass.

  “We fought. Over little things, over big things, and don’t get me wrong, we loved each other, but it took effort to keep the peace.”

  He sighed. He didn’t want that if that was the case. He’d worked hard all his life. Through sheer grit he’d sculpted a life for himself and his mother that was comfortable, and he didn’t need the chaos of a tumultuous relationship disrupting that.

  He knew his mother thought her anecdote would have the opposite effect, but it confirmed to him that he wanted the simple life and simple love without complicated trimmings. Maybe Jolene had done him a favor when she rejected a more serious relationship with him. Hopefully with time, he wouldn’t feel so…sad.

  He’d gone long without saying anything when his mother cradled his face in her cold hand and looked at him for another moment, as if seeing everything—the turbulent feelings he had for Jolene and how much effort it took to maintain an ideal life.

  “You want everything to fall perfectly into place, my love. That’s not how people work.”

  “I know that.”

  “Then grab onto happiness where it finds you. Stop debating whether it’s what you initially had in mind.”

  “It’s not that simple.” He paused, debating how honest to be with his mother. “She doesn’t want me.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Then you’ll find another.”

  He thought that his mother would go into another bout of sage wisdom, but instead, she said, “I’m going to watch some Netflix while you fix that shelf.”

  It was the last push before the launch party in two days. Jolene and her team were holed up in a conference room on a Thursday evening. The room smelled like the Chinese takeout they had for dinner. One intern added rocks to tall vases that would work as decorative pieces for the moderately sized venue space the party would be held in. Another intern assembled gift bags that guests would receive at the end of the night.

  Meanwhile, Jolene slid into panic mode as she looked
at the growing list of things she needed to do. She’d been having nightmares for the last week where she was unable to get inside the locked venue and the event fell into disarray. Think plates breaking, the DJ playing the wrong setlist, and Jessica starting a food fight. Pasta may have been involved.

  “Jolene, we’ve run out of the clarifying mist for the gift bags,” an intern, Trudy, said from her place on the conference room floor. Jolene looked at Trudy and actively tried to process what she said while her brain spun to find a solution.

  The sound of glass hitting tile came from outside, a few moments later a member of Jolene’s team sheepishly poked his head into the room.

  “Good news and bad news. Bad news I broke three of the vases trying to get them to my car. Good news, no one was hurt.”

  Todd, a hardworking and kind guy, emerged from behind his computer. “Did Robby ever confirm that the venue has the correct adapter the DJ needs?”

  And in some bizarre Rube Goldberg-esque moment, a new email from Robby, the owner of the space that they were renting out for the launch party, popped up onto Jolene’s screen. All she read was the subject line: SET-UP TIME CHANGE FROM 3 TO 4 PM.

  A little, frenzied laugh tickled the back of her throat, but she steeled herself against panicking. With the fortitude and the cool you might learn at overpriced spiritual retreats, she tackled each of the issues her team hurled at her in the span of fifteen minutes.

  When she finally got the machine running smoothly once again, Jolene snuck away to the washroom, a place that in recent months seemed like some restorative sanctuary for her to go.

  Two more days. Two more days.

  “Jojo?” Yvonne said, coming into the restroom.

  Her best friend found her hunched over the sink.

  “Oh God, are you going to throw up?”

  Jolene straightened. “No, I’m fine.”

  Yvonne drew closer until she leaned against the counter. “You’re doing a good job.”

  She looked at her best friend, giving her an appreciative smile. She’d battled the feeling of inadequacy ever since—well forever, but this project and her recent “break up” with Jason had ramped it up.