Page 43

RUMI

It’s been over a month since Jack barged into Hey Honey’s, yet it feels like we’ve known each other for so much longer. When I was explaining the idea of soulmates to him last weekend, I was really just sharing the thoughts I’ve always had.

But something about that part of our conversation has stuck with me this last week, something that I can’t seem to shake.

I’ve always thought of a soulmate as someone you feel like you’ve known your whole life, even after just meeting.

And there’s something about Jack that makes me feel like I’ve known him before, maybe in another life—or maybe our souls just understand each other in ways no one else does.

“We’ll meet you guys there!” Ava yells to me from the passenger seat of Anderson’s car just before he closes it for her before giving us a quick wave as he rounds the car to get in the driver’s side.

Both Jack and I wave back as we walk to his truck. The sun is still high in the sky, and the warm June evening is a little humid from the rain this morning. Jack steps ahead of me, opening the passenger side of his truck, his hand on my back as I step up onto the bar on the side.

The drive to the drive-in theater is similar to our dozens of phone calls and FaceTimes this week—both of us catching each other up on our day, allowing the conversation to ebb and flow toward different tangents, resulting in us getting to know each other more and more every time we talk.

When there’s a lull of comfortable silence, the music playing from the radio the only sound aside from the air rushing in through the cracked windows, I take a moment to admire the man in the driver’s side—the man I could listen to until my ears bleed; the man who lets me walk him through what I’m feeling, patient every step of the way; the man who makes my knees weak when he runs a hand through his hair before setting in on my bare knee.

The warmth of my skin makes an unfamiliar tension rise in my lower belly, a feeling I don’t remember ever having when Trevor touched me.

A feeling I’m wanting to explore more and more.

I find myself wrapping my hand around his arm, the fabric of the flannel he has on over his T-shirt soft against my palms. I sneak a peek at the ink on his muscular legs, finding a bunch of different black and gray designs that somehow look like they were made to be together on his skin.

“We’re here,” Jack says, the car slowing down, falling into line behind Anderson’s car.

I see the big white screen at the edge of the open field, cars already lining up, backed into parking spots in the grass, couples and groups of friends setting up their spots before it gets dark and the movie begins.

“I still can’t believe I was talked into this. My fun fact about myself was how I’ve never seen Twilight ,” I admit with a sigh.

“That’s not a very fun fact,” Jack says, looking over at me with a grin as he squeezes my thigh.

“I don’t have many in my arsenal,” I retort as the truck inches closer to the ticket window.

Jack scoffs playfully. “I can think of at least three right off that bat.”

“Yeah, right.”

“One, you can recite One Direction’s Up All Night album tracks in order from beginning to end. Two, you can tell the difference between gummy bear flavors just by taste. Three, your eyes are the exact same color of North Two Lake.”

As he lists off the first two facts, I can’t ignore the flip in my stomach at the thought of him noticing those tiny things about me from our random conversations this past week, but it’s the last fact that gives me pause.

“North Two Lake?” I ask, having no idea what that is.

“It’s the lake my grandfather’s cabin is on,” Jack answers, his eyes on the car in front of him as he slowly releases the brake to move us through the line before stopping the truck again.

“In Lake Tomahawk?” I ask, remembering how he mentioned the small town a few days ago when he was telling me a story about the owner of the diner up there and how she caught him and Emerson loosening all the salt shakers on her tables and made them be her bussers for the whole week they were visiting their grandparents.

Jack nods his head. “I noticed it the first time I saw you—how your eyes are the same color of the lake when the sunlight hits the water.”

“The first time you saw me, you grunted like a caveman and then got embarrassed and left,” I tease, giggling at the memory.

I expect Jack to say something more, but he doesn’t. He smiles, but it’s one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He seems to go into his head for a moment, almost zoning out, but before I can ask what he’s thinking, it’s our turn to pull up to the ticket counter.

Sending his reaction to me bringing up the first time we met in the back of my mind to revisit later, we get our tickets and pull into our spot next to Anderson and Ava, the sun just starting to set as the screen begins projecting old trailers for the five Twilight movies.

Jack cuts the engine, hopping out of the truck and jogging around the front to open my door, holding his hand out to help me down.

“I brought a couple blankets to make the bed of the truck a little more comfortable,” he says, opening the back door and grabbing more than just a couple, tucking them under his arm.

“Emerson might have mentioned that this was all necessary for this kind of date.” I can’t help but smile at that boyish charm he gets when he’s embarrassed.

“There are pillows back here too,” he says, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice the four big pillows he had tucked back here when I got in the truck.

“If you want to grab some snacks from the concession stand, I can set up the bed.” My cheeks heat instantly as the words leave my lips, and I can’t help but clarify, “The truck bed.”

Jack notices, both of us fumbling through the actions like we’re on a first date.

And I guess we kind of are.

It’s our first date without Evee—just the two of us.

“Anderson can go with you,” I hear from behind the truck, turning to see Ava and Anderson coming into view, a look passing between them, and I can already tell that Ava sucked Anderson into her silly antics when it comes to Jack and me, always looking for a way to push us closer to one another.

Jack nods at Ava, throwing the blankets on the bed of the truck before turning around to give me a quick kiss on the lips, as if it’s something he doesn’t even have to think about—as if it’s instinct to do so.

As Jack and Anderson head to grab snacks, Ava and I set up our areas, Ava using the trunk of Anderson’s car, making it bigger by pushing down the backseats, as I climb onto the truck bed, laying out the blankets and setting up the pillows.

“You and Jack seem to be getting close,” Ava says. Her sentiment may seem harmless, but I can read between the lines just as easily as I can read the smirk on her face.

“I think so,” I answer nonchalantly, watching as she splays out the last blanket she packed with her on the pile she already meticulously laid out in Anderson’s trunk.

“And you like him?” Ava asks, still not looking at me and making herself busy aligning all the pillows she brought, as if trying to make light conversation rather than dig for information like I know she wants to.

“I think so,” I repeat, careful not only with my words but with that dangerous thing we call hope that I feel in the way my heart beats a little fast thinking about how I feel about Jack.

I’m so used to hope being the lie we tell ourselves to keep going, and I learned at an early age that reality often falls short of our hopes.

Almost always, the letdown can feel worse than if we hadn’t hoped at all.

Ava lets out a groan, walking over to the truck and hopping up to sit on the edge. “You know, you two really are perfect for each other. Such conversationalists. I swear, you both must fight over who gets to talk first on those late night FaceTimes.”

“Okay, fine,” I exasperate, sitting down next to her now that both our areas are ready for the movie.

“Yes, I really like him. He can come off so grumpy and mean, but he’s truly just so sweet and gentle, and I love seeing both sides of him.

He’s responsible and patient, has a great relationship with his mom and sister, a stable job.

I’m sure he even has a headboard and separates his whites from his colors when he does laundry. ”

The words pour out of me—talking about Jack is as seamless as talking to him.

“And don’t even get me started on when he’s in his station wear—God, Av, I don’t know what I would do if I saw him in his full gear.

” The thought of Jack waltzing into Hey Honey’s with Anderson when they were on a grocery run, stopping to bring me a smoothie bowl from a place I mentioned to him I wanted to try—I had to literally pick my jaw up off the floor at both the act and the way he looked in his station’s collared shirt and cargo pants.

“And him and Evee? They’re literally best friends, and he treats her like she’s the most precious thing in the world. I swear, he’s too good to be true.”

“Oh, no. Don’t start that,” Ava protests, shaking her head at me.

“You can talk about the good stuff without the doubt, Rue.” She bumps me with her shoulder before adding, “And by the way you just talked for the longest I think I’ve ever heard you talk in my entire time knowing you, I’d say there is a lot of good stuff when it comes to Jack. ”

I can’t help but laugh. “I know, I know,” I tell her. “But I’m serious. It’s like I’m waiting for something to go wrong because things are going so well.”

“So enjoy it.” Ava wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me in. “I told you, you deserve to be happy, and it really looks like Jack makes you happy. And opening up to him like you told me you did last weekend? That’s huge.”

“He makes me feel so protected, but not in a way that is overbearing or that makes me feel like I can’t take care of myself. It’s like he’s there in case I need it, and it makes me feel so safe.”