Page 114 of Running from Drac
“I know, Dad. You don’t have to remind me.” I rolled my eyes at Eddie who stood behind them. He looked different tonight… all done up and presentable. There wasn’t a speck of grease on him, and his hair was perfectly styled, no backwards cap to smash it down. He shook my dad’s hand when he entered the house and handed my mother a small bouquet of wild flowers before handing me a bigger one made of pink roses.
“Have fun tonight,” my mother encouraged, just as my father turned to Eddie.
“If you hurt her, I’ll murder you.”
All blood drains from Eddie’s face, staring at my big burly dad that was all beard, big muscles, and leather. You’d think he was a biker by looking at him, but he wasn’t. He was just a big guy with an even bigger heart.
“Dadddd…” I chastised him.
He didn’t even look bothered by it, just took a step back, allowing me to join my date that was two sheets whiter than when he entered.
“Don’t worry, Eddie. He’s a big teddy bear underneath all that beard and gruff.”
My father crossed his arms, eyes narrowing on Eddie.
Eddie shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll take your word for it.”
This was my first official date. Going to the movies with a group of friends, or walking through the mall hand in hand with my middle school boyfriend Travis, was about all my dating world had involved before this. The few kisses I experienced at parties were gross and not worth remembering. Basically, I was a virgin prude.
“Come on, Fraidy Cat, let’s go.”
My parents gave me a friendly wave when I looked over my shoulder at them. Come to think of it, that was one of the last times I saw them standing together… both of them smiling and happy.
Once outside, there was a slight chill in the air, and I contemplated turning around to grab a coat.
“Wait here a sec.” Eddie ran up to an old beat-up Ford truck in my driveway that was still running and emerged with a heavy leather jacket. He draped it around my shoulders and clasped the top button just at my collarbone.
We locked eyes as the chemistry sizzled between us, both of us feeling it in the air. I could tell he wanted to kiss me, but he held back and smiled at me instead. “You really do look beautiful, Amber.”
“Thank you. You look nice, too.”
“So, I’m not necessarily the romantic type, but I have something pretty special planned if you are up for it?” I try to hide my smile, but he sees it and takes my hand, tugging me towards his truck.
I pictured him having something faster—prettier. I had him pegged as a hot rod guy, the ones who like to drive fast and not look back. This truck was the opposite of fast. It was a rusty pile of bolts, with squeaky hinges, and quirks that you just couldn’t make up. The engine sounded like a freight train and had a slight miss that you could feel right through the balls of your feet. The paint was rusted and chipping.
“I know she looks beat to shit, but I plan on painting her all black when I get the money. Well, all black with a single silver stripe that will go up the sides.”
“Its definitely got some personality…”
He laughed, admiring the dents in the sides, and the bumper that was dented in.
“It’s beauty marks,” he exclaimed, his face nothing but infectious grins. “That front bumper dent was from a run in with a pesky raccoon. And these,” he explained, pointing to the sides where a sledge hammer looked like it had some fun. “These my dad got while driving through a tornado in Oklahoma.”
“A tornado?”
“Yeah, this old girl has seen some shit. She’s like the ‘Little Engine that Could’, she just keeps chugging along no matter how many knocks are thrown her way.”
He caught me eyeing the tailpipe that was currently dripping something. “Yeah, I need to get that fixed,” he told me, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “That’s not supposed to do that.” The truck backfired loudly, causing both of us to jump. “It shouldn’t do that either,” he said sheepishly, just as my dad threw open the door.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Collins. I’m getting it fixed soon!”
My dad’s glare only intensified.
“We should go before his empty threats get worse,” I whispered, giving my dad another friendly wave, urging him with my eyes to cool it. Eddie smiles over at me and I watch his hand as it nervously taps his knee. We are quiet for far too long and he turns on the radio so that it drones out the awkwardness of our conversation. Britney Spears’ song ‘Toxic’ plays in the background, and I look up at him a little surprised over his choice of music.
“Britney Spears? Really?” He laughs as red shoots up his neck. He goes to reach for the knob to change it to a radio station, but I stop his hand. “It’s okay, really. I think it’s cute that you like Britney.”
“She’s hot,” he replied, hoping I would drop the conversation there.
