Page 29 of The Strawberry Field
“Do you?” she asked.“Ever think about it?”
“I don’t want to answer that.”
“Why not?”
“You know why.”
“Is it because of what people would think?”
“No. It’s because I don’t want to do the wrong thing.”
“Why is it wrong when two people like each other?”
“It’s not. But the timing’s wrong. And down the road, maybe it’d be different.”
She finally looked at me.“Couldn’t it be just between us?”
“I’d know,” I said quietly.“And I wouldn’t feel right.”
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. I want it, too.”
She sounded older than fifteen. Wiser.
“Will you meet me tonight?” she asked.“Ten o’clock. End of the driveway.”
Then she turned and jumped—gone in a blur of motion.
We didn’t talk again that afternoon. There was no chance to explain that what she wanted, I couldn’t give her.
And I had no intention of showing up.
Until I did.
*
I’D JUST FINISHED picking up groceries for my mom. It was close to ten when I turned down the road to their house. I told myself I was just passing by. That I wouldn’t stop.
But I pulled into the driveway anyway.
She wasn’t there. I checked the clock—9:50. Maybe she’d changed her mind. Maybe this really was ridiculous.
I started the truck. Put it in reverse.
Then I saw her—running down the gravel drive, arms waving, smile wide. And for a second, I wished I were someone else. Someone who could meet her halfway.
Against all better judgment, I put the truck back in park.
She climbed in, breathless.“Hey.”
“Hey,” I said. I couldn’t stop staring at her. Couldn’t speak.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” she said softly.
“I shouldn’t have.”
“Then why did you?”
I didn’t answer. Just started the truck.
