Page 28 of The Backup

“You said distractions were your specialty,” she replies, leaning back into the seat. “Surprise me.”

We drive in silence for a while, the city lights fading into darkness as I take the backroads out to the country. I glance at her now and then. She’s biting her lip like she wants to say something but can’t quite get there.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

Her fingers stop tracing patterns on her knee, and she glances over at me. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“What, the drive?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Us.”

My chest tightens. “Why not?”

“You’re not the backup anymore, Asher,” she says, looking out the window. “You’re the starting quarterback. Everyone on campus is going to be watching you—watching us. And I don’t think I can handle being part of the gossip mill again.”

“When did you start caring so much about what other people think?” I ask, my tone softer than I intended.

She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “It’s not that simple. I’ve been that girl before, and it’s exhausting.”

I don’t push her, letting the quiet stretch between us until she speaks again.

“I spent last weekend at my grandmother’s,” she says. “She made her pea soup. You’d hate it.”

“Why? What’s in it?”

“Peas,” she says dryly, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “And love. And a lot of lecturing about how I should follow my heart.”

“She’s a smart lady,” I say. “Also, did you know I hate peas?”

“She is,” she agrees, giggling ever so slightly. Her voice is quieter now, almost wistful.

Finally, we reach the spot I had in mind—a little clearing just off a dirt road, surrounded by open fields. I park the truck and cut the engine. The sudden quiet envelopes us like a blanket.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing a blanket from the backseat.

She follows me, her boots crunching softly on the grass. I spread the blanket on the truck bed and hop up, patting the spot beside me. She hesitates for a second before climbing up, settling in with a soft sigh.

Above us, the sky is endless and alive with stars.

“Wow,” she breathes, tilting her head back. “You can’t see this in the city.”

“Nope,” I say, leaning back on my elbows. “Figured you might need a reminder that there’s more to life than traffic and bad fluorescent lighting.”

She laughs softly, and the sound hits me like a punch to the gut—in a good way.

“Okay,” I say, turning toward her. “What’s your dream? If the world was like one of those Sears order catalogs, what would you pick?”

Her eyebrows lift, and she glances at me with surprise. “You’re asking me?”

“Yeah. I want to know.”

She hesitates, her fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve. “I’ve always wanted to go to grad school,” she says finally. “Maybe live somewhere international for a while. I’m an Econ major, so there’s so much I could do, but I’ve been too scared to say it out loud, like if I admit it, it won’t come true.”

I nod, letting her words settle between us. “That’s not a bad dream.”

She shrugs, looking at me. “What about you?”

I think for a moment. “I want to build something that lasts. A legacy. Doesn’t have to be flashy, but I want to know I left something behind that matters. I don’t know what that is for me.A family someday, maybe. I’m pretty young to think about all that, though.”

---