Page 24 of True North

His eyes don’t leave the screen.

I roll my lips. Guess who never left high school.

I open the snacks and eat as quietly as I can. With a full stomach, I relax and try to take in some of the movie. But honestly, I’m lost as to who is who and what is happening. So, writing this night off already, I wrap my arms around my chest and pretend to watch the film.

But it’s not the spaceship on the screen I see, or the character with his laser pointed at the enemy already. The only face I see is one that’s held my mind captive for the last ten years. Those deep, dark blues that see right through me.

See right into the guilt I’ve housed since that night.

Running off on Harry... For so long I have wanted to tell him how sorry I am. I mean, I was the minute I made the street curb. But I was more scared than anything else.

Scared I’d stay in this small town and not even have the chance to follow my dreams. I’ve seen what small towns do to big dreams. And it ain’t pretty.

No, it’s more like what I’m living now. But at least I had the chance. I gave it my best shot. That, I will never regret. I let memories of Harry drag me under as the movie plays on. The days we spent in the sun in his fields. Walking along Little Casino Creek in the summer, barefoot. That one night in the back of his truck, under the stars and a full moon, when we almost lost it all to the overwhelming pull between us.

Something shakes my shoulder. Hard.

I jolt up off the seat. “What?”

“Movie’s over, Louisa.”

“Oh.” I run a hand through my hair. “I fell asleep.”

“Yup.” He forces a smile and starts the engine. The large screen above is white again and cars are pouring out of the drive-in. “I’ll take you home.”

“Thanks.”

We drive in silence all the way back to the restaurant. The lights are on inside. Mama and Pa Mancini sit at one of the center tables. I’m guessing they’re tallying the night’s income. I gather my things.

“Did you wanna come up?” I ask with a small smile.

“Sorry, I’m wiped.”

I huff an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, okay. I have an early shift, anyway.”

“Want to go out next week?” His eyes turn soft as he leans in.Are those puppy eyes, Brad?Urgh.

“Maybe. I have a lot going on. Let me get back to you.”

“Sure. Night.”

I lean in for a kiss. He freezes, his Adam’s apple bobbing. I peck a kiss to his cheek, muttering, “Thanks for a nice night.”

Well, that was painful.

Why does he have to be so cute? Maybe he’s not boyfriend material. But I won’t write him off yet. Because unlike the dead-in-the-water date, he may be able to fulfill another need I have.

One with less strings.

What guy isn’t up for that?

* * *

The familiar dark head of hair sits in the last booth on the end in my section. I snatch the coffee pot from the machine and take my time getting to Harry Rawlins. The man who occupies my head when he absolutely shouldn’t. Not after what I did to him.

Guilt drives me forward, and I’m by his side a heartbeat later. “Coffee?”

He looks up. And unlike this scenario the first time, I have a firm grip on the coffee pot, even with those blues staring up at me. That jaw. The way his hair falls around his face. A girl could get hot and bothered by that there alone. His hands grip the plastic menu, and I’ve never wanted to be an inanimate object more.

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