Page 62 of Choosing Forever
He tips his chin. “Of course. That’s it.”
“Fine,” I repeat.
“I’m parked behind us.”
“Right. The fancy car.”
He chuckles under his breath, and we start back the way we came.
20
DELANEY
The only thingDarren’s new car has in common with his old one is the scent of cheeseburgers and over-salted fries.
The white bag with the logo for Rustic Ridge stamped onto the side crinkles in the back seat when we hit the dirt road leading to the drive-in grounds. The scene is so familiar that I can feel the tingle of nostalgia trying to make a guest appearance. Lucky for me, I’m too stressed and nervous to make room for yet another unwanted emotion tonight.
Instead, I keep my eyes on the road and pat my knees as the silence in the car dips further into awkwardness. The sunset is pretty, at least. There’s nothing but highway, empty fields, and the snow-tipped mountains in the distance out this way. The sun paints the sky a myriad of pastel colours, stealing my attention. In another world, I’m sitting on a wraparound porch in the middle of nowhere, staring out at this view with?—
“Do you still like banana pudding milkshakes?”
I swallow too loudly. “What?”
“Do you still like banana pudding milkshakes? Or have you finally outgrown them?”
“What does that mean?”
“They’re gross to everyone but you.”
My cheeks warm as I stop my patting and outright grip my knees instead. Then, I twist to face him, ignoring the way the seat belt digs into my collarbone.
“If that were true, they wouldn’t have made banana pudding a flavour of milkshake to begin with, nor kept it all these years,” I argue.
I’ve been ordering that same milkshake at Rustic Ridge for the last fifteen years. Surely if it were that unpopular, they’d have discontinued it by now. Even if it would have devastated me to have to order anything else.
Darren adjusts his posture in the driver’s seat.Fidgeting. “You underestimate the power you have.”
“I highly doubt I have enough of this mystery power to single-handedly keep an item on a menu that I only order from once every few weeks.”
“Why that little?”
“Why do I only order it every few weeks?”
He tips his chin. “Yes.”
“Why are you so curious about my milkshake order all of a sudden?”
“I’m just curious, Delaney. About you and what you’ve been doing all these years. How you’ve been doing.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” I mutter, immediately turning forward again, closing myself off.
“Alright, that’s fair.”
“Thank you for the feeling validation,” I toss out sarcastically.
He blows out a low breath. “That’s not what I—that’s not how I meant that to sound. We’re nearly at the drive-in, so we can either get the blows out right now, right here, or out in the field. It’s your choice.”
“I don’t want to deal any blows, Darren,” I relent, exhaustion already creeping in.
