Page 36 of From Now On

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

My coffee appears and gets handed to Hunter. He thanks the server, then passes the coffee to me.

We’re back on the highway a few minutes later. Thewide-openhighway, thankfully.

“You listen to a lot of podcasts,” Hunter remarks between sips of coffee. He must be burning his mouth—there’s steam curling through the tiny opening in the lid—but he appears unbothered by the temperature.

“Yeah, I do.”

He nods to the stereo. “Put one on.”

“What?”

“Put one on. We’ve got almost three hours to kill. You sketching yesterday wasn’t very entertaining for me. I couldn’t even tell what you were drawing.”

Well, thank God for that. I had no idea he was trying to look, and I was drawinghim. Thea said I should work on my portrait angles, and he has a really nice profile.

“I was just doodling.” I unwedge my phone, ignoring all the texts from Harlow. Talking to Hunter cleared most of theawkwardness, and reading her responses is going to send me back into a spiral of embarrassment.

“Not thepoor baby cowsone, please.” His smile is sheepish. “I really love ice cream.”

“I still eat regular ice cream,” I admit. “The dairy-free kind isn’t very good.” I scroll through my saved episodes, trying to judge which show Hunter might enjoy the most. “Do you want to listen to one about sports?”

I tried a football podcast hosted by two brothers last year so I’d have something to contribute when my dad talked about the Cardinals.

I’m expecting an enthusiastic response from Hunter. He plays sports—or,asport—so he must like sports.

But he surprises me and says, “No. Put on something you really want to listen to.”

“Why do you think I don’t want to listen to sports?”

Hunter huffs a laugh as he switches lanes. “Because you’re not interested in sports.”

“How do you know?”

He chuckles again. “Okay. What sports do you follow?”

I sigh. “None. But I did go to a basketball game last fall. And a hockey game.”

“Because you like basketball and hockey?”

“No,” I admit. “I went to the basketball game because of Clayton Thomas. One of my friends had a crush on him.” Hopefully Mary won’t mind me throwing her under the bus. She’s happily dating David now. “And I went to the hockey game because of y—” I cough, a rush of cold panic constricting my chest. “Because of, you know, the whole Harlow-and-Conor thing.”

“Right.”

Hunter appears oblivious to the fact that I was milliseconds away from blurtingyou.

Technically, the reason I went to a hockey game this past season was because Harlow was going to see Conor play.

The main reason Iwantedto go to a hockey game? To see Hunter play. Because anytime anyone brought up Holt’s hockey team, my first thought was always the eighteen-year-old who told me he was nervous about joining a new team. But if Hunter remembers our conversation freshman year, he’s never suggested it, so I’m following his lead and pretending it never happened. He probably talked to lots of girls that night. I know he’s talked to lots of girls since.

“What about a serial killer in Alaska? He would mail the coordinates of the body to the police station and that was the only way they found his victims.”

C is for Crimeis my favorite podcast, but I don’t say so. I know Hunter said to put on what I wanted to listen to, but he’s the one driving and insisting on paying for everything. Well,almosteverything. He did grudgingly accept a twenty for my dinner.

There aren’t many people I’d willingly listen to sports with, but Hunter happens to be one of them.

“Uh, sure,” he answers. “Sounds…entertaining.”

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