Page 101 of Rhodes

With that, he's back in the truck and pulls off down the street without Rhodes saying a single word.

His burger's sitting in the basket where he set it down, and he's still looking at the piece of curb where Deuce's truck was.

"You don't have to make it sound like it's the worst fucking idea imaginable," he says.

I stop with a fry halfway to my mouth and put it down, going for a drink instead. "What are you talking about?"

"Is the idea of us dating that crazy?"

I nearly choke on my root beer. "Um, yeah, Rhodes, it is. Are you being serious right now? We’ve talked about this.”

"Coop's home at the end of May. I'd rather tell him than have him figure it out and be pissed we hid it. And he'd be fine with it, as long as I'm not a dick to you." He says it fast, running downhill. "I'm never going to be a dick to you."

He takes a breath, and I can't believe what he's saying.

"Rhodes, that was never what this was. I think you have jet lag."

"I'm just saying, why not give it a try? We know each other better than anyone, and our families are so intertwined that it’s almost natural. Why not see if this could be something more?"

"I thought we both agreed what this was." My heart is in my stomach right now. I'm not sure what throws me more: that he caught me completely off guard or that, at almost any other point in my life, with any other guy, I might want to consider saying yes.

"If it turns out we're better as friends, then we know we explored it."

There is not one sentence anywhere in my head. For the first time in my life, I think, I'm speechless. I think about what Jo said, but I shake my head. It’s not realistic, and it’s not a good idea.

"I've got Oak Moss as my number one priority right now," I finally say. "My dad just told me today they're set to clear it on June 15, unless we decide to go another route. That's my whole spring. You know that’s where I have to focus.”

He doesn't respond, clenching his top lip between his teeth.

"Classes start back tomorrow. I'm still a freshman at twenty, and Coop's across the ocean." I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. "Let's not complicate things right now."

The fryer pops behind me.

"Okay."

"That's all?"

He picks up his burger again, but doesn't take a bite. "Yeah. You've got a lot going on."

"And?"

"And I'm not going to make it harder."

The relief doesn’t come.

I steal another fry. The lump in my throat makes it hard to swallow.

TWENTY-FIVE

Rhodes

Encapsulation: When lead paint cannot be safely removed, it is sealed beneath a new coat and declared stable. The hazard has not gone anywhere. Every report written on that property afterward has to say so, in writing, forever.

She didn't knock last night. She quit knocking somewhere around the third night, and I haven't said one word about it, because whatever she decided and how she got here, I don’t want to disrupt it.

Ten days ago she sat across from me at Cowbell and told me not to complicate things. I said okay, even though it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, and I meant to respect that.

Then Friday I came in from the gym and found her sitting on my kitchen counter in her field clothes with her heels knocking the cabinet door, smelling like river mud and sunscreen, and she looked at me for about four seconds before she said, "Don't be smug about this.”