Page 32 of True North

How old are we?

“It’s fine; it’s sweet. At least she cares.”

“Yeah, tell that to every girl in this town she’s harassed to go out with her only son. God, it’s so embarrassing. I’m not...”

I place my hand over his resting on his thigh. “How about we get out of here?”

His hand slips out from under mine in one swift motion. His face reddens for the second time in five minutes. “I don’t really do personal space.”

Is he kidding?

“Oh, okay.” I sit up in the passenger’s seat and run my hands over my shorts, which now feel way too tiny. All of a sudden, feeling self-conscious, I wind down the window. Did it just heat up in here? I feel like the salacious woman trying to seduce some innocent guy who’s never been touched.

Maybe Brad hasn’t?

California was many things, frigid not one of them. The small-town country girl I was before I left lasted about six months before I fell headfirst into the life lessons I’m sure city girls learn way earlier than I did.

When we pull up in front of the ice cream place, I wait for my door to open.

But it doesn’t move. Brad just waits by the store’s front door, hands in his pockets, eyes darting around as if someone might see us. I sigh and push out of the car, making my way to where he stands. I grip my purse by my side, adjusting its long strap over my shoulder.

Ordering our ice cream, we find a booth and eat in silence.Pretty sure this is not what your mother had in mind, Brad.You know what this guy needs? Some life experiences of his own. I lick the ice cream from the round scoop and hold his gaze. His eyes widen. I fight the urge to burst into hysterical laughter.

I shouldn’t mess with him.

But, ugh, he is such a prude.

No physical contact.

No small talk.

Scratch that—no talk, period.

“We should head to the lookout before the stars start coming out. That’s the best part, you know, watching them pop into the sky one at a time.”

“Okay. You finished?”

“Yep.” I wrap the last of my cone in a napkin and place it on the small plate on the table.

“Do you know any of the constellations?” Brad says all of a sudden.

“A few, you?”

“Most of them. It’s kind of a family hobby.”

Ah, of course he does.

We drive the ten minutes to the lookout, the highest point in the geographical makeup of the outskirts of Lewistown. Brad kills the engine, and we sit on the warm hood of his car. He is more animated now that we are doing something he’s obviously interested in.

I have hope.

I lie back on the hood and slide my hands onto my stomach. It’s so peaceful out here. And the last few weeks of my transition back to this small town seem to fade out as the first star does, in fact, pop into the darkening sky. I grab Brad’s shirt and pull him backward. He lies beside me, glancing at me every few seconds, like I’ll vanish if he doesn’t check back.

When the sky darkens, he points to the first cluster of stars gracing the sky. “See those there?”

The wind picks up a little and it’s cool. I shuffle closer. His warmth is nice. I follow the line of his pale arm, past his manicured fingertip to the blanket of inky blackness overhead. The bunch of stars he’s trying to show me look familiar.

“What are they?” I ask.

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