Page 12 of This Time Around

“Have you ever been fishing?” She is clearly judging me now.

“No, but there’s a first time for everything.”

“You’re ridiculous. You’ve never once talked about fishing, and never would have if he wasn’t the one suggesting it. I’ll tell you this one more time. This is a BAD idea.”

“Well, it’s too late to cancel now. I’ll call you when I get back,” I say quickly and end the phone call.

Ana’s warning sets off alarms in my mind, but I ignore them.

Taking a pity invite has never been my thing, but being with him, in any capacity, makes me feel better, happier. So here I am in the passenger seat of his truck, wondering what in the hell I’m thinking.

“90’s Alternative?” I ask as No Doubt blares through the speakers. “Are you going to bust out your old CD collection and argue anything after 1999 isn’t actual music?”

“I listen to pretty much everything,” he informs me in a playful voice. “Don’t talk shit when you know it’s true. The 90s were iconic in every music genre.”

“Ok, old man. What’s next? Back in my day…” I tease. “You make talking shit too easy. You get all irritated, and your face gets so serious.”

“I get irritated because you bust my balls every chance you get. Always have.”

“Should I not bust your balls? Would you rather I do something else with them?” I ask, immediately regretting the insinuation I didn’t intend.

“Stop it, Blake,” he scolds with his eyes glued to the road and the slightest tick of his jaw.

“Sorry, it came out wrong. I won’t reference your balls the rest of the weekend. I’ll keep my mouth ball free.”

“Blake!” he shouts with a laugh and a shake of his head.

I laugh and turn up the music.

Sure as shit, he literally listens to just about everything. He has the most eclectic playlist I have ever heard. The rest of the drive was spent engrossed in the music with little conversion, ignoring the thick tension growing in the truck. You could cut it with a knife, and I’m not sure how to make it less uncomfortable, which is a bad thing. Discomfort makes me socially awkward and I say dumb shit like, “I’ll keep my mouth ball-free.”

I mentally palm my forehead scolding myself for that dumb mistake.

Being with Luke is easy most of the time, but there are situations like this when I end up feeling like his little sister’s friend when we’re together. The annoying nuisance he has to put up with.

It takes me back to the memories of him being my highschool crush.

“Hop in,” he told me, his eyes piercing. It was our senior year, and we spent very little time at school during our lunch break.

April’s car was in the shop, and I couldn’t afford a car, so she begged Luke to pick us up and take us to the McDonald’s up the road.

“Thanks,” I yelled over the music.

He just nodded in response, not paying me much attention as he continued to bop his head to the music. I was crammed in his backseat so April could sit upfront.

“I love this song,” she smiled at her big brother like being with him was the best thing in the world.

“That’s because you’re a badass like Gwen Stefani.” He ruffled the hair on her head, like big brothers do, and she punched him in the side. It was playful, but she did not find him messing up her hair funny.

“I have to go back to school, Luke.” She pulled down the mirror and attempted to fix the giant mess he made.

I sat in the back seat watching their exchange, but every time he moved I could smell his soap, and it was intoxicating. His hair was still wet from his shower, and the way it curled at the ends made him so irresistible.

His phone rang and when he answered it his words felt like a dagger, the reality check I needed.

“Hey, babe… oh, nothing, just taking my sister and her friend to get lunch.”

Not even Blake, just his sister’s friend.