Page 5 of Dash to Me
Atlas leansagainst the driver’s side door, arms folded across his chest, his dark hair tousled by the breeze.
“Ready for this?”
“Born ready.”
Atlas extends his hand to open the passenger door for me. I slide into the seat. The car’s engine rumbles to life as Atlas turns the key. He buckles his seatbelt and I secure my own.
As Atlas takes off, my mind drifts. I’ve spent more time with him than my brother these last few days. And now we are driving for hours to pick up their wedding cake. Hours in a car with Atlas Lockwood. This is dangerous.
“You remember when we used to lay out in the pasture at the Grant Ranch?”
“Of course. We used to make wishes on shooting stars about things we wanted.”
“Did any of yours come true?”
Atlas glances at me before focusing back on the road. “A few, but you know how it is. Some dreams shift, others grow with you... What about you? Did the girl who wanted to conquer the world find her calling?”
I consider the question, fingers tracing the edge of the window. “She found something better. People who matter more than the crowns I once imagined.”
A familiar sign catches my attention—a swirling cone painted in pastel colors, the name “Sugar Scoops” arched above.
“Atlas, stop the car!” I point out the ice cream parlor. “We can’t not have ice cream from Sugar Scoops. It’s tradition!”
“Your wish is my command,” he says, pulling into the parking lot.
When we were teenagers, we used to come here all the time with my brother. Especially during the summers. It’s the best ice cream parlor around.
Atlas walks right up to the counter, ordering our favorite flavors without missing a beat—mint chocolate chip for him, rocky road for me.
We settle onto a checkered bench outside. With each spoonful of creamy nostalgia. There are so many memories at this little hole in the wall place. Outsiders might not appreciate it for what it is, but it’s a family owned business who cares about the community. We take of our own around here.
After we devour our scoops, we get back into the truck and take off toward our destination. I try to keep my eyes anywhere but on him. Yet, it’s hard. It’s weird to see him after all these years and the feelings in the pit of my stomach still be there.
Being this close to him is dangerous, and he still has no clue how I feel about him.
ATLAS
A series of irregular,hacking coughs erupt from beneath the hood, each one echoing a rattle and a smell of burnt oil. The engine stutters.
“Did you hear that?” she asks.
I lean forward, straining against my seatbelt. “Yeah. Doesn’t sound good.”
The car shudders violently, the frame rattling. The warnings flicker on the dashboard.
The car shudders, a groan escaping its inner workings as if it too is lamenting the interruption of such a perfect day. I guide the truck onto the shoulder. The engine stutters, struggling to maintain its rhythm, and then begins to fail, suffocating. I guide the truck onto the shoulder. A thin trail of smoke curls from the hood as we finally roll to a stop.
“Come on, not now,” she murmurs, more to the truck than me. Her hands press against the dash, as if pleading for it to hold out just a little while longer. Thick, gray coils of smoke billow skyward. I pop the hood and a blast of heat tickles my eyebrows.
“Turn the key.” I glance at Eva, who looks back at me. She turns, but the only response is a futile click of the starter. “We’ll figure this out.” I point toward the quiet road. “At least youdidn’t come alone. Your brother would freak if you broke down on the side of the road, hours from home.”
Eva nods, her eyes scanning the horizon. The road is deserted, curing away into the distance.
“We’ll just call someone.” I reach into my pocket, but no bars. “Great, no signal.”
She sinks into the seat, defeated. The image of hope she wore a moment ago fades as despair sets in. There is no way we are going to make it to get the wedding cake before they close now.
“Looks like we’ve got a bit of a hike ahead of us.” Eva gestures toward the road.
