Page 46 of The Surprise

Someone behind us claps.

When I finally drop back, Ethan says, “Wow, if I knew you were such a big fan of root beer floats, I’d have asked for one before now.”

I giggle.

The lady behind the register clears her throat. “We don’t got huckleberry. It’s winter.”

I sigh. “Figures. Alright, two root beer floats, then.”

Ethan taps his cheek.

“What?”

“You said root beer float. Isn’t that code for, ‘I want to kiss you, you hot, hot man’?”

I roll my eyes and turn back toward the cashier. “Two cheeseburgers, and two—” I drop my voice to the barest whisper. “Two root beer floats.”

Ethan laughs. “I still heard it.”

The cashier rings us up, and I try to pay. “I said it was my treat.”

“Our first real date can’t be your treat. If it was just ice cream, maybe, but we’re getting dinner.” He nods slowly. “You have to let me pay.”

More importantly, the cashier takes his card.

I sigh in mock surrender. “Fine, but the next date—”

“Will also be paid for by me. What kind of boy do you think my mom raised?”

“The kind who can’t even afford a car?” I scrunch my nose.

And Ethan frowns. “Rude. You’re rude on our first date.”

I lift my chin. “Honesty is never rude.” I tuck my credit card back into my purse. “But if I pay half the time, you can get a car sooner, and then we can go on more dates.”

He sighs slowly. “I’ll allow it.”

The rest of the meal is just as nice. We’re both just finishing our root beer floats when my phone dings. It’s Aunt Donna.

TESTIMONY DIDN’T GO SO WELL. HAD TO HANG AMANDA OUT TO DRY.

That’s unfortunate, especially for Aunt Donna, because I know she likes both Amanda and Abigail, but. . .ultimately, I don’t care. As long as Ethan can stay, I don’t care about anything else. But no one texts after that.

When I text Aunt Donna asking for an update, she’s silent.

The ride back to Manila’s not quite as bubbly and exciting as the ride to Green River. In fact, now that we’ve eaten our ice cream and our date’s over, I feel. . .unaccountably nervous.What ifssneak into my mind, and I can’t seem to get rid of them. I told Ethan that if my dad cost them their ranch, we couldn’t date. But is that strictly true? I mean, I doubt Ethan will blame me.

He says he won’t.

But it’s not like, without a ranch, he’d have a reason to stay here. His family’s from Houston, and there are better colleges there. No matter what he says, if he’s not running a ranch, he’s the kind of kid who will go to college.

At the end of the day, I’m just a high school senior in Manila, UT, and if Ethan’s family loses this ranch, all their shiny goodness will move back to Houston, abandoning me to live here all alone in the pitch-black darkness left in the wake of their departure.

I breathe in through my mouth and out through my nose all the way back. We’re passing through downtown Manila when Ethan’s phone rings.

“Hey, Mom. I’m just—”

He’s quiet. I wish I could hear what Abigail’s saying.

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