Page 9

Mike

S he thinks I’m sweet? If anything, I’ve gotten used to hearing the opposite. Selfish, egocentric, arrogant, those are the kinds of words my dad would use to describe me. I used them as fuel because I knew I was betting on myself and I had to push hard to come out on top. But lately things have started to feel different, calmer, like it might finally be okay to take a breath and enjoy the climb on my way up. Maybe it’s because I’ve been given a fresh start in North Bay. Or maybe it’s just her.

I saw Danielle kiss her date. Then she left. It didn’t even seem like a good kiss, but I hated seeing her with him and wanting it to be me. I’m usually not the kind of guy who lets women get to me like this. Watching her from the sidelines like a jealous, lovesick puppy felt pathetic. But I can’t deny anymore that I want her. Something about Danielle makes me feel like she sees into a part of me that has been buried for a long time. Things feel lighter when she’s around.

Which is ridiculous, because I barely know this woman.

Another text comes through as I lean against the wall in a dark corner of the ballroom.

Danielle: It’s been a crazy night. Think I’m going to head home.

Me: To North Bay? Now? It’s late.

Danielle: I know, but things got pretty awkward. Honestly, I need to get out of here. I don’t want to sleep at his place tonight.

Jake, was it? Whatever is going on between them is none of my business, but I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. But it’s not my place to tell her to stay somewhere she is uncomfortable, so against my better judgment, I type again.

Me: Well, be safe.

Danielle: I will.

I may have only known Danielle for a few days, and I have no right to tell her what to do, but every part of me is fighting the urge to go get her. I clench my fist at my side, and start walking toward the ballroom doors. Jake is at a table sipping what looks to be bourbon with some of his frat buddies and they’re getting rowdy. I can’t stay in this space with him, I don’t trust myself not to do something stupid and get myself thrown off the team. He just let her go? No one should drive that far in the middle of the night by themselves.

I wish I could tell her to come stay in my room, but I’m bunking with Rodriguez. Is she really planning on driving through the entire night alone? I don’t know if she had anything to drink. Before I can think it through, I’m calling her.

As soon as she picks up, I ask, “Do you want some company?”

She doesn’t respond right away, so I tell her, “Look, I don’t want to make you feel weird. I know we haven’t known each other long. But I really don’t like the idea of you going all the way back to North Bay by yourself right now. It’s dangerous. I was planning to go back in the morning anyway. You would be doing me a favor by giving me a ride.”

That last part isn’t one hundred percent true, I have my truck, but that is not the point. I make a big effort to be honest with the people in my life these days, but this tiny omission is for her own good. I hope my proposal doesn’t creep her out. I can ask Rodriguez to drive back in my truck tomorrow, in the daylight after he’s gotten a full night of rest. He won’t mind.

“Really? Um, okay.” Her voice is hesitant, but I can hear something else in her tone. Maybe it’s only surprise, but I swear it almost sounds like she is excited. “It might be nice to have a road trip partner, if you’re sure you don’t mind. Promise not to murder me?”

I laugh. “Like I said the last time, if I wanted to murder you, I wouldn’t do it while I’m on official Blue Crab business. And no, I don’t mind. It will be fun.”

“Honey would probably feel better knowing I had someone with me on the road.”

“Who’s Honey?” I hope that’s not her pet name for this Jake dude. I try to keep my tone neutral so my curiosity doesn’t cross the line over into desperate territory.

“Oh, Honey is my grandma. Everyone we know calls her that. She basically raised me. You could try calling her Mrs. Daniels when you meet her, but I can’t promise she won’t try to slap you for that. She’s a bit of a wild card.”

Seems like an unusual name for a grandmother, but what do I know? Most of my grandparents passed away before I was old enough to remember them.

“I see. Well, sure, I’m happy to ride back with you. Are you okay with picking me up outside the hotel? I’m staying in the same place as the dance.”

“Yeah, I’ll head over soon if that’s all right, but can you meet me in the parking lot so I don’t have to go back inside? I just want to get out of here and forget this weekend ever happened.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

It doesn’t take long to throw my stuff back into the bag I brought. I’m still wearing my suit pants and black tee shirt, but I took off the jacket in an attempt to get more comfortable. As I expected, Rodriguez was fine with the idea of driving the truck home, although he did bust on me a bit for ditching him. He also made some very unsubtle hints about me getting it on with Danielle tonight that I had to shut down. Not that I wouldn’t be open to it, because I very much would, but she was upset tonight, and she just left a date with another guy. This is not the right time to hit on her, and I’m trying this new thing where I show people the respect they deserve.

In less than fifteen minutes, Danielle texts to let me know she’s here, so I head down to meet her.

Under the street lamps, I can see her sitting in the driver’s seat of a Honda, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. I wave and walk to the car, and she reaches down to press the button that opens the trunk so I can stow my stuff. Once my bag is dealt with, I slide into the passenger’s seat and toss my suit jacket in the back.

“Hi.” I offer a smile. She’s no longer wearing that dress. Her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and she has changed into a tank top with leggings and sneakers. She looks unsure of what to do or say. We’ve only been alone together on the short ride from the restaurant to Major Dollar and she’s about to be stuck in the car with me for hours in the middle of the night. I can tell she’s rattled from whatever happened with her friend, and now I’m probably making her nervous, too, which is the opposite of what I want to do.

“Good call switching shoes,” is the next thing that comes out of my mouth. I point to her feet.

“Yeah.” She chuckles. “Easier to drive this way. But that means the heels are up for grabs, if you want them.”

“I do like them,” I say because it’s the truth. I swallow the lump that forms in my throat as I imagine her wrapping her legs around me while wearing those shoes. “But I doubt they’d fit me, and they look much better on you.”

She ignores the compliment and asks if I’m ready. I give her a nod and she hits the gas. After a few minutes of silence, I ask, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

She heaves a big sigh. “I’m not even sure I know what happened. Jake has been my friend since we were literal babies. He’s always been a popular guy, and that’s true here, too. He’s doing awesome. Scholarship, fraternity, tons of new friends. I was excited to come up here and visit him this weekend.”

“But?” I prompt.

“Things are fine whenever we’re alone, but as soon as we are out of our bubble, everything is different. It makes me look at him and our whole friendship in a new way, and I don’t think I like it. It’s not his fault.”

“Doesn’t sound like your fault either. Sounds like childhood friends drifting apart. That’s normal, but it does suck.” I try to empathize.

“Did you have a friend like that growing up?”

“No, none that I kept in touch with.” I clear my throat. “But my sister Maddy did. She was always close with this one girl, Kate. They did everything together until they went to high school, then there was a lot of drama. That’s when I learned teenage girls can be really mean.”

“True. They definitely can. Tell me about your sisters again.”

“I have three younger sisters,” I remind her. “Mandy, Maddy, and Michelle. Most people call her Shelley. They’re all back in Idaho with my parents.”

“Are you close with them?”

“With my sisters and my mom, yeah. Not so much with my dad.”

“That sounds like a story.”

“Maybe for another day.” Or not. I like this new friendship I have going with Danielle. She doesn’t need to hear why my own father hates me. Especially because that hatred is well-deserved.

It’s quiet again. Too quiet.

“May I?” I reach toward the radio and she nods, so I turn it on in order to drown out my own thoughts. Her dial is set to a 90’s station and I leave it there. Despite my nagging memories, it only takes me a few minutes to settle into the peaceful vibrations as we pass over the pavement. Riding with Danielle is comfortable. I don’t want her to feel pushed to talk. Other than the low hum of the music, we sit together in the quiet, each of us lost in our own minds for another twenty minutes.

It’s late, but a new text comes through on my phone.

Jordan: This elbow is killing me. Can’t sleep. Think I’m going to go ahead and schedule with the doc.

I’m looking down at the message when I’m jerked upright by Danielle’s sudden swerving and a loud thump. She gasps. We’ve hit something, but I don’t know what because I haven’t seen another car for miles. The contact throws both of our bodies forward and I can feel my seatbelt dig into my collarbone before my head is forced back into the headrest. I throw my arm across her chest instinctively.

The brakes squeal as we come to an abrupt halt on the side of the road. There’s another loud noise and a large, blurred figure rushes past the windshield. I think I saw white and brown. It must have been a deer. Shaking my head and taking inventory of my body, I realize quickly that I am fine, but I’m more concerned with the woman next to me.

“Are you okay?” I turn to Danielle. Her eyes are wide and she is holding the steering wheel so tightly that the knuckles on both of her hands are white. She doesn’t look at me, but she nods once, then sucks in short, heavy breaths that make her chest rise and fall in rapid succession. We both look down and notice my arm is still stretched across her body. I pull my hand away quickly and get out of the car. “I’m going to go out and take a look.”

From what I can see using my phone as a flashlight, the damage seems pretty minimal. There’s a small dent in the hood and a busted headlight. Otherwise, her car seems drivable. I know from experience that it could have been much worse.

The driver’s side door opens, and Danielle slowly makes her way to the front, tiptoeing over roadside debris in the dark.

“Careful,” I tell her. “There’s broken glass on the ground. But don’t worry. We got lucky. No one was hurt, and I think the deer even got away.” It probably didn’t get far. I think I heard something fall in the trees, but she doesn’t need to know that. Hopefully its injuries were minor and it will heal. That’s the story I’m going with. There’s not much I could do for a wounded animal right now. I need to focus on Danielle and getting us home.

She hasn’t said anything, and she still has those wide eyes. Maybe she’s in shock.

“Hey.” I approach her slowly. “We’re okay. The car is okay. Just a minor setback. We’re still going to get home tonight.” I reach out with both hands and rub up and down her arms. It’s cold out here. She must be freezing. Ducking into the car, I grab my suit jacket and drape it over her shoulders. She pushes her arms through the sleeves, clearly distracted by the other thoughts running through her head.

“Honey is going to kill me for crashing the car,” she murmurs. Then a little louder, “Oh no, what if I killed that deer? You weren’t the murderer after all. I was.”

“You didn’t hurt the deer.” I try to sound convincing. “Although, maybe it had a death wish. It jumped right into the only car on the road.” Seriously, what are the odds? There isn’t another vehicle around for miles.

She barks a loud, stressful sound that is half-laugh, half-tortured scream. “I can’t believe I did that. I could have killed you. Or worse, what if I hurt you and ruined your baseball career?”

“That would have been a fate worse than death.” I chuckle. “Again, this was not your fault. Accidents happen. That’s why there are deer crossing signs all over Virginia. But you seem like you are pretty shaken up. Here, let me help you around to the other side. Watch the branches. I’ll drive the rest of the way back.”

She doesn’t argue. She lets me guide her into the passenger seat and lean over her to buckle the seatbelt. As I’m reaching across Danielle’s lap, her soft brown hair brushes my face. It smells just like the vanilla mist I remember and it tickles my skin. I have to fight the urge to kiss her forehead to comfort her, the way my mom used to do for me when I was upset. I don’t know Danielle well enough to do that, so instead I press my lips together hard, walk around the busted-up car, and buckle myself into the driver’s seat.

Before we leave, I use my phone to find our location and look up the non-emergency number for the local police.

“Hello, yes. I just want to report that we’ve hit a deer. There was only one vehicle involved and no injuries. Well, no human injuries. Deer ran away. There is some debris on the road.” The operator asks for the location of the accident and after confirming again that Danielle and I are both okay and do not need medical attention, she wishes us a goodnight and tells us it’s fine to go home. With that settled, I pull back onto the road and start driving.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, then I realize Danielle is humming something softly. After a few bars I recognize the melody to One Headlight by The Wallflowers and I can’t help but laugh.

“That song is a bit on the nose for our current situation, don’t you think?”

“Seemed relevant.” She finally gives me another tiny smile, then bites her lip and tucks her chin down to try to hide it. She pulls up her music app on her phone and the real version of the song starts to play. Once Jakob Dylan’s voice is blaring through the speakers, Danielle’s shy smile transforms into a hysterical giggle that squeezes the muscle pumping in my chest. It’s nice to know I am the one helping to take the stress of tonight away for her. The heightened emotions of the past few minutes are catching up to us. When she starts to sing along loudly I can’t stop myself from joining in. Before I know it, the windows are down and both of us are screaming lyrics that are only half-correct into the night air.

The music fades and Danielle’s chest heaves as she catches her breath. I squeeze the steering wheel and try to keep my eyes on the road.

“I really needed that.” She pants, fanning her flushed face with her hands. Having her this close to me while she is breathless makes my body clench. She leans back into the seat and closes her eyes. I wonder briefly if she is praying. It is sort of a miracle we both walked away from that accident without a scratch.

I want to comfort her. I don’t think Danielle’s heart can handle any more stress tonight. Instead of responding, I reach over and place my hand on her leg, squeezing lightly but not saying anything. She looks down and lays her hand over mine, intertwining our fingers. My palm turns up to hold her hand. I want to keep my eyes on the road because one accident in the middle of the night is more than enough, but I can feel her looking at me.

“For the record, that was not how I envisioned you getting to second base,” she says, making me laugh. So, she has envisioned it. Interesting. I’m glad her sense of humor is intact. “Seriously, though. Thank you, Mike. I’m really glad you were here tonight.”

“Me too.” I squeeze her hand.

I drive with one hand on the wheel and one headlight guiding our way for the next two hours until we pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex.

Danielle opens her car door and climbs out of her seat. She arches her back and reaches down to touch her toes, then walks over to me so she can get ready to drive herself the rest of the way to her house.

My jacket is still hanging loose around her body, practically swallowing her and making her stretches look silly. Letting out a long breath while she pulls one arm across her body, the same way I do before a game, she sounds resigned when she says, “Honey is truly going to kill me. I forgot to tell her I was coming home tonight in the first place, and now I’ll be showing up in the middle of the night with a mangled car. I hope she won’t have a heart attack when the door opens at three thirty in the morning.”

“So, stay here,” I offer without stopping to think how presumptuous that might sound. I quickly add, “Jordan isn’t here. He’s visiting a friend for the weekend. I can sleep in his room and you can take over my bed to get a few hours of sleep. You don’t have to face Honey yet.” She looks like she might actually be considering this. “Then just go home later like your grandma is expecting. And yes, once again, I promise not to murder you.” I use my index finger to cross my heart, and I can’t keep the smile off of my face.

Danielle hugs herself around the middle while she peers up at me. “Tempting. But I don’t know if that’s a good idea?”

I shrug in response, trying not to let on how much I want her to stay. “Why not? You already know I don’t love the idea of you going home alone in the dark, and I have two beds right up there, in completely separate rooms.” I point toward the window of my third-floor apartment. “But no pressure. If you need to go, I understand.”

I’m not trying to be a creep. It’s just that I know she’s exhausted, and I can tell she really doesn’t want to go home and deal with her grandmother right now. Yep. Those are the only reasons I would like her to walk up to my apartment and get into my bed.

She looks toward the building. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’d rather know you’re safe and getting some rest before you drive over there.”

“Okay,” she whispers. Before she has a chance to reconsider, I nod and retrieve both of our bags from the trunk, then lead her up the cement stairs to my front door.

“No judgment, deal? I didn’t know we were having company.” I try to hide my nerves under a chuckle as I turn the key and let us both inside. Relief washes over me as I scan the apartment. It’s not as bad as it could have been. There are a few dishes sitting in the sink and an empty pizza box on the counter, but otherwise everything looks pretty decent. I show Danielle to my room and tell her I’m going to grab some clean sheets from the hall closet for her, but I also duck into the bathroom to make sure the seat is down and nothing too disgusting is happening in there. Seems like we are good, so I return to my room with the new sheets in hand.

“Oh, you don’t have to go through the trouble. I’m fine. Honestly.” She motions to the brand-new sheets I’m holding, still wrapped in their plastic packaging. Danielle is already sitting on my bed and removing her shoes. If I had a response, I’ve lost it. The air is stuck in my throat because, even though I’ve imagined it at least fifty times since we met, I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her actually sitting on my bed, and I haven’t had enough sleep to process it.

I should tell her how good she looked tonight. At a minimum, I should say goodnight or ask her if she needs anything. Some water? A clean t-shirt? Instead, I set the new sheets next to her on the bed and bow before I leave the room in silence. I bowed. It’s time to admit Jordan was right. I have no game with this woman. None. Muttering to myself about what a dumbass I am, I walk across the hall and crash on my roommate’s unmade bed.