Page 9 of Keep Me Still
“Then off we go.”
Allthrough our first date we talk about soccer. And she doesn’t once ask about the girls that accosted me outside the locker room while she watched from my truck. I’m waiting for it, but she never says a word. I should be glad that she’s cool and not territorial like some girls but…I want her to be. And yes, I realize how fucked up that is.
I saw how her smile faltered and she lowered her gaze when they flanked me to tell me about some party at one of their houses this upcoming weekend. But she’s carrying on like nothing happened so maybe I was imagining things.
“So there’s a party tomorrow night, after the game,” I inform her just before I take a huge bite of my cheeseburger. She smiles but her eyes go dim. “You want to check it out?”
“I’m not really a party kind of girl,” she informs me with a look that says she barely managed to leavedumbassoff the end of her sentence.
“Yeah, I mean, I can see that. But we’re friends right? Friends do things together like grab dinner, watch movies, and go to parties.”
Something that looks like anger tinged with hurt flashes across her face, and I quickly evaluate my previous statement.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to be a condescending dick.” This girl apparently has no friends, for whatever crazy ass reason, and I just told her in a special ed teacher voice what friends are supposed to do together.Smooth, O’Brien. Don’t make plans for second date.
My apology falls flat and I really am sorry so I reach across the table to stop her hands from fidgeting.
“Hey. Seriously, I didn’t mean it like that.” She’s staring at our touching hands like they might catch fire any moment. “Tell you what, I’ll tell you my real first nameandI’ll buy you that milkshake.”
Her lips curl sweetly upward and I’m at a loss for words. That look, the one that says I’ve made her day, made her life, stops all mental function. When everyone looks at you like they’re sizing you up to see what they can get from you or they’re trying to contain the sheer disgust and disappointment the mere sight of you causes, you start to avoid people’s direct gazes altogether. Until a girl you didn’t know existed two weeks ago looks at you like you’re the only reason she’s had to smile in her entire life.
“Landen?” Shit. She’s been talking and I missed it.
“Yeah?” No use pretending I have the slightest clue what we’re talking about.
“Chocolate, with extra cherries,” she says and I’m staring at her mouth.Pull it together, man.
“Right, got it.” I drag myself out of our booth and walk to the counter. Sliding onto a stool next to an old-timer, I order Layla’s shake and wait. Glancing back at her, I notice she’s not looking at me but at the man next to me. Turning, I notice he’s hunched over, slowly counting out change on the counter with unsteady hands. His jacket could use a wash and he probably hasn’t shaved or bathed since the nineties.
Wow, I did not see this coming. The fact that there are homeless people in perfect little Hope Springs blows my mind. Before I have time to second-guess it, I pull a twenty from my wallet and signal a waitress.
A tired-looking but attractive brunette about my mom’s age saunters over. “Your shake’ll be ready in just a sec.”
“Yeah, thanks. I’m gonna take care of his too,” I tell her with a nod at the man next to me. “He needs another coffee, a slice of that pecan pie, and uh, um, a double cheeseburger.”
“That okay with you, Clyde?” the waitress says to the man. The tension in my chest releases when I realize he’s a regular. Not that it makes him any less homeless but at least he has somewhere to go where he’s welcome. That must be nice.
“Make it to go,” he sneers and then turns his watery glare to my face. “You feelin’ good about yourself now, kid?” Shit, he’s mad.
“Listen, mister, I’m trying to impress a girl here. So if you could just play along, let me be a Good Samaritan this once, I’ll let you buy mine next time.”
“Hell. What are you? Six foot, six two? I doubt I could afford you, boy.” He grunts but his weathered mouth is attempting a grin.
I laugh and offer my hand. “Landen O’Brien, sir.”
“Clyde Riley,” he says, clamping his trembling hand into mine surprisingly firmly. “You new around here?”
“Yes, sir. My father is a Colonel in the Army. We just moved here from Colorado.”
“No shit? I served back in my day. Took a bullet to the shoulder and couldn’t shoot anymore so they kicked my ass out. Honorable discharge, they called it. I’ll give you one guess how honorable it was. Takes a lot of dedication to be a Colonel.”
I bite my tongue so I don’t say anything disrespectful about the Colonel. Nodding, I take the shake and extra cup of cherries the waitress brings to the counter.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley,” I say, and he clasps me on the shoulder.
“Gonna take a lot more than that to impress the looker you’re with.”
I laugh. “Yes, sir. I’m gathering that,” I tell him before returning to my date.
