Page 9 of Gunner

“No.”

“Not much to do, just hold onto me. I’ll do the rest.” I nod my head, although my heart just fell into my stomach. I’ve never been on a bike before. Are they dangerous? I don’t know about this, but I still climb on behind him and hold onto him as tightly as I can with this helmet on.

I can feel him chuckle, and it vibrates through me. I hold on tighter as he takes off. After a few minutes, I relax into the ride. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. We ride through town until he pulls off at a restaurant and kills the engine. I climb off as he does the same and takes the helmet from me.

Then he grabs my hand in his as he leads me into the restaurant. He walks us back to a booth and I slide in as he slides in across from me.

“I’m glad you came back,” he says as I smile.

“Me too.” The waitress comes, and we order, but as soon as my food is in front of me, the smell hits me, and I lose it. My stomach churns, and I think it’s just nerves, but I quickly excuse myself to the bathroom. I hurry in and close the door behind me before I throw up nothing but water since that’s all I’ve had today. I heave and hug the toilet until it finally subsides. Then, I walk to the sink and clean myself up. I look in the mirror, and notice I look paler than normal. I hope I’m not getting something. Rinsing my mouth out, I spit into the sink before heading back out to the table.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“It’s good to see you again. I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” he teases.

“I wasn’t sure either. I didn’t really plan on it.”

“Why not?” he asks as he pops a fry into his mouth.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t think I should.”

“Well, I’m glad you changed your mind.” I smile at him and pick at my food. Gunner takes down his burger and fries as he watches me, but I can’t seem to get my stomach to settle. I eat a few bites here and there when something hits me. I shake my head. No. That’s not right.

“What’s the date today?” I ask as my stomach churns a little more.

“The fifteenth.”

“Oh God.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“There’s no way. That can’t be. It has to be something else.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Nat? What’s goin’ on?” I look up from my plate and stare at the man in front of me. This is wrong. This can’t be happening. Not now. No.

“I need to go.”

“You’re not goin’ anywhere until you eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, you are. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“You don’t want to know,” I tell him as I slide out of the booth. He’s faster than me. He slides out first and grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him.

“Talk to me.”

“No.”

“What’s happenin’, Nat?” I open my mouth, but words don’t form. How do I say this? How do I even bring it up?

“I have a situation.”

“What is it?”

“I’m late.”