Page 19 of Falling for Autumn Again

Ezra sits in his old beater, the engine off. Didn’t he leave ten minutes ago?

I walk towards Dad’s truck, parked in the big lot on the Linus Tree Farm, right next to the black car with a red door—thatthingEzra calls a car.

Ezra Bennett’s cute. I knew who he was from school, but we weren’t friends. We never hung out until he started working on the farm. He started two weeks after me, which of course makes me the expert. And I am happy to answer all of his questions.

Why wouldn't I be? Like I said, he's cute. And nice. And while until this point in life, I've known almost nothing about him—except for the fact that he had a nice face—I like him now. We've talked and he's kind. Like my dad. He's funny too.

I walk over to my truck door, but instead of climbing inside, I knock on his passenger window. His car must be as old as mine because he leans over and twists the lever to manually unroll the window.

“Car trouble?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I can’t get it to start.” He huffs out a frustrated breath. I should tell him to call his parents to pick him up. I’ve got a hardship—one that Dad had to pull some strings for the city to grant to me. I don’t turn sixteen for another four months. With my hardship license, I can drive to work and back—nowhere else, and I’m not allowed to have anyone under the age of eighteen in the vehicle with me.

But then… Ezra Bennett isreallycute.

“I can take you home.”

His brows knit. Does he know about my hardship? Is he a stickler for the rules? “You don’t mind?” he says.

My heart flutters at his words—it’s a strange feeling, a giddy feeling, one that my body isn’t used to. “Not at all.”

“I’m on Birch Street,” he says, climbing into my cab.

“I know where that is.” It’s a small town. I pretty much know every street in Love.

We pull away from the farm, but two minutes into our drive, Ezra is still quiet. I think of the conversation Dad and I had last night and fill up the silence.

“Where do you want to go to college?”

“Um. I don’t know.” I can feel him looking at me, but I keep my eyes on the road. Dad would kill me if I got picked up driving with a minor.

“What do you want to be?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” Ezra’s not exactly making conversation easy. But then, he’s been easy enough to talk to while we work. Maybe these questions are difficult. Mom says not everyone knows like I do.

“You know, when you grow up.”

“Oh. Um. I like drawing. And building. But I don’t know. I—I’m not sure about college.”

"Ezra!" I give him one glance, all my passion coming out in just his name. "You have to go to college. That's where life begins."

“It is?” There’s humor in his voice, but a question too. Maybe his parents aren’t hounding him to develop his talents and work hard like mine always are.

“Yes! You get to goanywhere. Be anything. And no one else can tell you what to do. There’s a lot more out there than this little town. You know?”

“Huh.” It’s more of a grunt than a word—one that says maybe he doesn’t know.

“You don’t want to stay here forever, do you?” I can’t imagine anyone wanting to stay in Love their whole lives. It’s been a nice place to grow up and all, but there’s a great big world out there.

“No,” he says, at last giving me a definite answer. “But I won’t have money for college.”

“That’s what student loans are for.” I sigh. I have a bank account that Mom and Dad have been feeding for years. But they can’t send me all on their own. “That’s why we’re working too,” I tell him. “You have to save all of your money. Every bit.”

“Every bit? Didn’t you buy three Snickers bars from the shop today?” He laughs under his breath.

I do too—because I did. I couldn’t help it. I was starving. “Well, sometimes there are emergencies. Again—student loans are there for a reason.”

“You think someone would loan me money?” He sounds so unsure.

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