Page 46 of Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

CHAPTER 10

DANNY

There’s a knock on my bedroom door, and Jen pokes her head in. “Hey.” She glances over her shoulder then comes the rest of the way in, closing the door behind her. “Mom and Dad are downstairs, and we’re going to leave.” She shoves a handful of black trash bags at me. “Here. They didn’t see me.”

Last night, after I hung up with Mike, I told Jen our plan. She squealed quietly and hugged me so tightly that I thought I was going to explode. She then insisted on helping me sketch out the details of the plan. I spent most of the night going through my dresser drawers and closet, sorting through my stuff and setting aside the things I’m taking with me. Since I don’t have boxes or luggage, we decided trash bags were the way to go. Plus, Mom and Dad won’t notice they’re missing. And they can’t accuse me of stealing, if they decide to be dicks.

“Thanks. And thanks for your help. You’ve made this a lot easier on me. Are you sure you’ll be okay here?”

She waves me off. “Definitely. I have a few more months of school, and the summer will fly. Then I’ll be living in Oakland and going to Pitt. I’ll only see Mom and Dad every few weeks and on holidays. It’ll be fine.” She hip checks me. “And who knows. I might just transfer to the University of Portland and join you on the west coast.”

That makes me happy. “I’d love that. And you’re welcome to come visit anytime.”

My dad yells up the stairs. “Jen, let’s go! We don’t want to be late!”

She hugs me one more time and kisses my cheek. “Take care of yourself. Call me and let me know how it’s going, okay? I really want to know. And I’m so happy for you.” With one more kiss to my cheek, she darts out the door. I hear her pound down the stairs, and almost immediately after, the front door slams. Hurrying to the window, I watch as my dad backs the car out of the driveway and onto the street, pulling forward and around the corner. I keep my eyes on the last spot I saw them until I’m sure they’re truly gone. I should be sad. Or upset. Shouldn’t I? But there’s a persistent lightness in my chest, and god, I want to laugh. I dive for the phone and my fingers fly over the buttons as I dial Mike’s number. The moment he picks up, I blurt, “They’re gone.”

“On my way.”

We hang up, and I spend the next half hour putting everything I’m taking with me into trash bags. When I hear the doorbell, I grab two of the bags and haul them downstairs, dropping them so I can open the front door to Mike’s smiling face. The sun is shining brightly in very un-Pittsburgh-like weather, especially for February, and it lights him up in a halo of gold. I push up onto my toes and kiss him quickly. “All packed. There're just a few more bags to bring down. Will they all fit in the truck?” I glance over his shoulder.

He follows my gaze and nods. “Yeah. I don’t have much either. Mostly clothes. The apartment came furnished, so none of that stuff was mine except the bed. The rest is in boxes from the state store and trash bags like yours.”

“Where’d you get the trailer for the bike?” I gesture to the setup attached to the back of Mike’s black F150.

“I bought it off of a guy I know. I paid more than it was worth, but not by much, and he was doing me a favor by selling it.” He reaches down and lifts the two bags. “Ready?”

“God, yes. Be right back.” I turn and bolt back up the stairs, grab the remaining two garbage bags of my possessions, the note I’d written to my parents, and the card I bought for Mike, then hurry back downstairs. I leave the note in the kitchen with my house key, turn off all the lights, and close the front door for what will probably be the last time. Mike is waiting in the bed of the truck, and I hand the two bags up to him. He tucks them safely under the tarp and climbs down, opening the passenger side door for me. “Your chariot awaits, my dear.”

I climb in, and Mike shuts the door, running around to the driver’s side and hopping in. Nervously, I hold out the card. “Here. I got you this. It’s nothing big but… well, just open it.”

Mike tears into the envelope and pulls out the Valentine’s Day card, grinning once he sees Tinkerbell and the generic sappy message on the front. He opens it and reads the note that I wrote late last night, after I’d finished sorting through my stuff.

I know we’re new to this whole dating thing, and it seems like a big step to move across the country with someone you barely know, but there isn’t anyone else I’d want to go on this adventure with. I have a great feeling about us.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

XXOO

Danny

Mike leans across the seat and kisses me softly. “Thank you. There’s no one I’d rather go on this adventure with either. And yeah, I think we’re gonna be just fine. No matter what happens.” He reaches behind the seat and hands me a single rose with a small vial of water attached to the stem. “I got this for you. It’s not much, but I wanted to mark our first Valentine’s Day together. I promise, next year I’ll pull out all the stops.”

I press the flower to my nose and inhale the delicate scent. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. And I don’t need a big fuss. I’m just glad we found each other.”

Mike takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’m glad you sat in the wrong seat at the hockey game. Otherwise we might never have met.”

I laugh. “Wrong place, right time?”

“Nothing about us will ever be wrong, babe.” He lets go of my hand and shifts the truck into drive. “Let’s get this adventure started.” We pull away from my parents’ house and drive toward the highway, our eyes focused on the road ahead. And we’ll never look back.