Page 86 of Limbo

“Get your hands off my date, man.” Benji walks in from the living room, wearing ripped jeans and a flannel—but a nice blue one, clearly reserved for special occasions. “You have a little redhead waiting for you.”

He grins as Jordan’s eyes narrow.

When Jordan offered to hang out with Felicia, he didn’t know what he was setting in motion. She insisted on them going on a proper friend date, and she’s been bubbling about it all week. After making fun of him for it, Benji suggested he and I do the same.

Well, technically, he said, “Hey, since the dude you’re banging’s busy, let me take you out, Calico.”

And no girl can resist such an eloquent request.

Jordan’s hands put on a performance, feeling me up before he relinquishes me to his best friend for the night. “See you later, beautiful.” He kisses me, his tongue shoving into my mouth just to further bring home his point.

I smile at the dramatics.

His expression hardens, and he gives Benji a pointed look. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Benji winks in response. Jordan picks up the flowers and hesitantly walks out the door.

As soon as it latches, Benji saunters over with a sly smile. “You ready for the ride of your life, Calico?”

“Wait, you don’t mean—”

“Oh, yeah.” He jingles his keys around. “We’re taking The Beast.”

Trey’s piece-of-crap starter truck should have prepared me for a ride in Benji’s station wagon; however, it did not. The seats’ upholstery mostly consists of duct tape, the radio hangs out of the dash—still works though—a strange smell of motor oil and cologne mixes in the interior, and the thing sputters the entire drive. He loves the old gal and claims he’ll drive her until she starts on fire on the side of the road. So, another week if his luck holds.

We eat tacos out of a truck parked in a lot of a shopping center. The brave vendor trusted the college kids to make it worth his while to open in mid-March, and given the line, he put his faith in the right demographic.

After Benji throws away our trash, he slides onto the hood next to me and hands me his cup.

I sip and make a face. “Is that plain soda?”

He chuckles at my reaction. “Been a while?”

“Probably the last time I went on a date.”

“Wow, arealdate.” He leans back against the windshield. “My last one of those was my senior prom.”

“Mine too,” I say. “Who’d you go with?”

“Sasha Brown, my last girlfriend. You?”

“My ex-boyfriend, Pete.”

He steals the cup, and I settle back next to him as he takes a drink. We stare up at what would be stars if not for the city lights.

One of the only things I miss about Sutterville is, even on Main Street, you can see them shining. Trey, Pete, and I would lie in the middle of the road for hours when we were kids, gazing up and planning all the things we would do. All the places we would go together.

Benji passes the cup. “The first night Jordy came home after chasing you around campus, the guy looked wrecked. I almost told him how in over his head he was with you.”

“Why didn’t you?” I rest my cheek on the cold glass and look at him.

“You sparked such a fascination in him when no one else could. He needed to figure out what that meant on his own.” He rolls his head in my direction, one corner of his mouth curving up. “Plus, if he’d listened and bailed, I would never have met the girl he deemed worthy of a Guns N’ Roses song. I mean, that’s some serious shit right there.”

I laugh, and we go back to watching the sky.

We stay until after the parking lot has cleared out, and the truck’s driven away. Then we once again tempt fate with a ride in the station wagon.

Benji cranks the engine, a grin spreading when it roars to life. “Let part two of our date begin.”

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