The Pace (5 page)

When I walked outside, I noticed my Jeep backed into my driveway. I didn’t remember leaving it like that. In fact, I was positive I hadn’t parked it that way. My eyes narrowed as I walked around the back end, and then I shook my head. My car was completely fixed. I ran my hand over where the busted light and dent had been as if it was going to bite me. I was not imagining it. My car was fixed, completely. No sign of damage whatsoever. This had gone too far.

Dumbfounded, I walked back into the house and went straight upstairs. The email was still on my screen. I hit reply:

I want to talk. Meet me somewhere. Please.

Sophie

I hit send and waited. I really didn’t expect a reply that night, but I waited anyway. I put on my favorite songs and lounged around my room periodically checking my inbox. By about 9:00, I had new mail. It was from Wes:

If you insist. Tomorrow, at the overlook. Noon?

That wasn’t good enough. I needed some answers before then, so I replied back:

No, now is good. Overlook, ten minutes. I’m leaving now…

I had no idea if he was going to go or not, but I was itching to get out of the house anyway. I needed a drive, and the overlook would be a good place to go anyway. It was a natural soother, located off of a windy road overlooking a river, hills, and city. In the daytime, you could stand there in awe of the beauty of the water and the mounds of green hillsides. At night, the hills were lit up by the town lights. It was a perfect place for me to go to clear my head whether he came or not.

About halfway there, I realized that I had left the house in the same checkered shorts, T-shirt and flip-flops, and I was horrified thinking that he might actually show. That was just great. It was only going downhill for me, but I was in investigation mode. I was more concerned with wanting to know why he was going out of his way to fix my car, and moreover I wanted to know how the heck he had actually pulled it off without my knowing. I hadn’t gone anywhere that day, and I was sure it took longer than a day to have a car fixed.

I pulled off into the overlook. The space was just off the road, like a widened gravel shoulder. It was very dark out there, so I decided to stay in my car with my doors locked. I wasn’t about to go out there by myself, and the view was almost as good from the car anyway. Besides, I was afraid of heights, and standing near the edge in the dark didn’t sound appealing.

I cut the ignition but left on the music and sat waiting and thinking. Within about five minutes, a car pulled in from the opposite direction, with headlights glaring. As it pulled farther in, the lights were diverted toward the cliff, and by then, I could tell it was the same black car I had hit. This time, I paid closer attention to it, since I was curious. It was fixed on the side I had hit, and it was a very nice car—not too flashy. It just looked like a little black modern sports car to me.

I watched as he rolled his car to a stop, got out, and leaned casually up against his door. I took it as my cue. If I wanted to talk to him, I was going to have to get out and walk over there. I supposed it wasn’t too much of a demand. I had just dragged him away from whatever it was he was doing to come meet me at 9:30 at night, so it was a minor compromise.

As I approached him, I saw he was wearing jeans and a heavy navy blue zip-up jacket. I was instantly embarrassed by my shorts and flip-flops, and I was actually starting to feel a little chilly out there on the overhang. Even still, he was a bit overdressed.

I walked over to his car and leaned next to him. Neither one of us said anything for a few minutes. I was the one to break the silence.

“Are you going to tell me why you fixed my car?” I said, looking at him.

“I told you, it bothered me to know you were driving around in a crashed vehicle.” He didn’t look my way, but I could tell he had a small half-smile on his face.

“I would hardly call it a crashed vehicle. It’s very durable. The damage was barely noticeable,” I corrected.

“It’s all in how you look at it I suppose.”

“Okay well, that didn’t give you the right to steal it.”

“I didn’t steal it; you have it back.”

“Yes you did. I didn’t give you permission to take it.”

“I told you,” he said, turning toward me. “I had to take matters into my own hands.”

I rolled my eyes and shuddered at a cool breeze, and he noticed.

“You’re cold.”

“No I’m not,” I lied.

“Yes you are. Anyone would be, coming out here in that,” he said, as his eyes examined me from head to toe.

“You’re trying to distract me,” I shot back. “And it won’t work. I want to know how you took my car and fixed it in a day without my knowledge or permission. And I don’t like being lied to.”

“I didn’t lie to you.”

All right, that was it. I was done with the going around in circles, and as cute as he was, I was getting a bit fed up.

“All right then, I’m leaving,” I informed him, walking back toward my car. I really didn’t want to leave, but I was flustered. I reached my car and turned back to see what he was doing. He hadn’t moved an inch. He was still looking out over the cliff. Threatening to leave always worked in the movies. Right? One person got mad and acted as if they were leaving, and the other person folded in submission. But, it was clear to me that he wasn’t folding.

I let out a little grumble, swallowed a little bit of pride, took a deep breath, and headed back over to his car. This time, I stood right in front of him.

“Are you going to, at least, let me pay you back?” I asked, crossing my arms firmly.

“No.”

“You have to let me pay you back. Please.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Only to you,” he said, with a little laugh.

“Then what can I do? I can’t just do nothing,” I said, uncrossing my arms and putting my hands on my hips.

“For one, you could go home and stop coming to dark places at night by yourself.” He raised his dark eyebrows, waiting for my reply.

We both stood there staring at each other without moving or saying anything for a few minutes. I’m sure we were both trying to figure the other out. That’s what I was doing anyway, and it wasn’t working. I’m not sure what he was thinking about, but my thoughts ranged from frustration to wondering what it would feel like to have him grab me and give me a big kiss. It was so cliché, and the thought made me blush. I had no idea what this thing was between us, but I liked it. I didn’t want my time with him to end, and I knew I didn’t want to have to check my emails anymore to communicate or wait to see if he would show up in the parking lot on campus.

“So what now?” I asked, hoping for a solution.

“Whatever you want.”

“You won’t let me pay you back for fixing my car, so is this it, or will I see you again?”

“What do you want?” he asked, shrugging his shoulders a little, putting the decision back on me. I hadn’t felt more shy or desperate in my whole life. I just wanted to walk away, but I knew that I would spend the next several days in my room wondering when and if I would see him again if I didn’t truthfully answer the question.

I looked down at the ground between us. “I want to see you again.”

“All right.” He was much more at ease than I was, and he casually stood up straight, as if to leave.

“How will I reach you?” I asked, a little too quickly.

“Do you have a number?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to give it to me?”

I looked at his empty hands. “Do you have a pen?”

“I’ll remember it,” he said confidently, not making any movement toward getting a pen. I couldn’t tell if I was being blown off or if he was playing it cool, but I didn’t want to press it any further. If he wasn’t planning on calling, it didn’t matter if I wrote it or not, so I just told it to him.

“I’ll call you.” He nodded, seeming satisfied, although he wasn’t concentrating too hard. “We should go home,” he added, tucking his hands in his coat.

“Aren’t you warm in that jacket?” I asked, curious.

“Not at all; I don’t like being cold. I’ll see you later.”

He got into his car first, but he waited for me to get in mine and pull off before driving away in the opposite direction. As I drove home, I had a permanent smile on my face. There was so much I still didn’t know, but I at least felt there would be time to figure it out. One of the things still bothering me was how I was going to pay him back for fixing my car. It would be quite difficult since he would have to accept it, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I would have to try. In the meantime, I just accepted the fact that he had one up on me. I smiled at the thought and then reached to turn on the heat. It
was
a bit chilly.

I
 really didn’t like lying to people, especially my mom, but Wes’ most recent stunt left me no choice. I had to come up with something to explain away the fact that my car had been fixed without either of us knowing. I wasn’t able to come up with anything remotely believable at first, so I backed in the driveway so she wouldn’t see that side of my Jeep unless she went out of her way to look at it.

The next day, I called her while she was at work to tell her Wes got in touch with me again and offered to have a guy fix it, and that I agreed. She was fine with that, but she started asking more questions about him. I had to tell her he was only nineteen and that he was really nice. The only thing she thought was weird was how he was paying for it to begin with. I told her it was a good question, but I didn’t know.

She asked fewer questions than I expected, and I thought we were finished with the whole ordeal, until she came home and saw that it was actually fixed. Even she knew it took more than a few hours to do a little body work and a paint job, but I acted like I had no idea how fixing cars worked. Then, I told her I would ask him if he called. That’s when her eyes got big.

“He has your phone number?”

“Yes.”

“How did he get that?”

“I gave it to him.”

“Why?” she pressed.

“Because he’s really nice.” I wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but I had to play up that card. Then, I added, “And he fixed my car. I may want to talk to him.”

“Sophie, I don’t know about that. He’s in college.”

“He’s only nineteen, Mom, and I’m eighteen,” I reminded her.

“But he’s in college, Sophie. That’s a big difference from things you have experienced.”

“Mom. Wasn’t that the whole reason you wanted me to meet you every week? So I could interact with kids my age?”

She hung up her coat and started off toward her bedroom. I followed her, seeking out an explanation. “Well, yes, but I thought that it would inspire you to meet people from your own school, or even maybe give you the urge to go back and experience regular school. I didn’t mean for you to meet a boy there.”

“Well, I have met someone at my school. Dawn goes to my school, and Wes is only a year older than I am. So, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is that you have literally skipped over the normal progression of a teenager, and I’m not sure you’re ready to skip right over to college dating.”

I sort of understood what she was saying. She did have a point. I had no experience even talking to a guy on the phone. I didn’t have a clue what I was getting myself into, but deep down I knew what I wanted, and I knew I hadn’t missed out on any prerequisite teenage experience. I was fine with my life. I had to make her at least see that, so I tried to reassure her.

“Mom, I don’t feel like I’ve skipped over anything. High school life has never interested me, and I don’t believe I need to go to some dance or school function just to be friends with a nineteen-year-old. You don’t give me much credit.”

She took a deep breath and said she wasn’t sure if she liked the whole thing, but she eventually relaxed and kissed me on the cheek before closing her bedroom door. I supposed I was out of the woods with explaining away the car thing, and I would have to wait and see if she would leave the other issue alone.

I went back up to my room after a pit stop to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream. I decided to sit out on my back deck and eat it. The view was the main thing that sold me on this house. It just felt like home, and I could’ve stared out at it all day long. It was completely peaceful until about 7:00, when my cell phone rang. I practically threw my bowl trying to free my hands to answer it.

“Hello?” I said, trying to sound calm.

“Sophie?”

“Yes. Wes?”

“Are you expecting someone else?” he inquired.

“No.”

“Did I interrupt you?”

“Well, I did just finish having to explain away your little car fixing stunt to my mother.”

He started laughing. “I’m sure you came up with something good.”

“No thanks to you,” I added.

“Well, I tried to go about it so she wouldn’t question anything. You’re the one who wanted to be difficult.”

“So, is that why you’re calling? To call
me
difficult?”

“No, actually, I was hoping I could come pick you up Saturday night.”

I could
not
believe I was actually talking to this beautiful guy, who was asking me out. Or at least I thought he was. I had to check to be sure.

“Are you asking me out?”

“You could call it that.” I could visualize his little grin through the telephone.

“Well, okay, I suppose.” I wondered where we were going. I wanted to prepare myself. If it was a movie, that would be easy. I hoped it wasn’t something like bowling or somewhere I could embarrass myself. Then I wondered if it would be a party. That’s what college kids did, and that would be horrible. I would feel completely out of place and self-conscious, especially arriving with him. I had to know.

“Where are we going?” I asked, curiously.