Page 4 of Bending Under Pressure

Me: I live down the road from you. Number 953. Don’t come all the way up the driveway; stay by the road and text me when you’re here.

I lock my door, turn my music down just a bit, and put on my shoes. Then I go to my window. Thank goodness for one-story homes. I turn the locks before easing the window open slowly. I do it at a snail’s pace, too. I’ve only snuck out once before. Mom caught me as I was sneaking back in, and I was grounded for a month.

Keelan: I’m here.

With that, I climb out my window.

A minute after sending her a text, I see her jogging up the gravel driveway, her blonde hair reflecting in tonight’s bright moonlight. When I pulled in, I turned off my headlights, figuring she was sneaking out since she asked me to stay by the road. At least the driveway is long enough that they shouldn’t hear the rumbling of my ‘67 Mustang.

She looks surprised to see me waiting next to the passenger door. She flashes me a smile as I open the door for her and she climbs in, putting on her seatbelt. She’s wearing shorts that are banned at school because of how much glorious leg they show and a fitted maroon and orange Virginia Tech t-shirt.

“I think I need to cancel.”

There’s a tinge of disappointment, and her lips part slightly in surprise of her lips. “Why?”

“Virginia Tech, really?” I glance down at her shirt and see her smile when our eyes meet again.

“Hokies all the way.”

I make a disgusted face as I shift. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

She giggles and I swear, I’m done for. Just like that. When I sneak a peek at her, she’s looking back at me expectantly.

“What?”

“I asked where Elsie’s is.”

“Oh, it’s right up here. I’m surprised you haven’t seen it yet.”

“I haven’t bothered to explore.” She says it almost as if she doesn’t want to do it either.

“Then Elsie’s is the perfect place to start,” I tell her, parking my car in front of one of the old buildings at the town’s only stoplight.

“So this is a restaurant, huh?” I glance at her curiously. “I’ve been wondering what it could be since there are always so many cars here.”

I nod in understanding. The only sign is on the door, and there’s no way to see it from the road. Haley waits for me to come around and open her door, smiling much like she did when she got in the car.

“Your momma taught you well, Keelan.”

In my best southern twang, I reply, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Haley laughs, shaking her head as we walk in and take a seat at the bar. While the outside might not look like much, the inside is lively and decorated in 1950s fashion. An older lady comes up to us, her white hair pulled back into a bun, her wide frame glasses sitting on her nose, and a wide smile on her red lips.

“Keelan, it’s good to see you again, dear. Who is this pretty girl with you?”

“Mrs. Elsie, this is Haley. She’s new in town and is on the tennis team with Jess.”

She pats Haley’s hand, which is resting on the bar. “It’s nice to meet you, dear. What can I get you two?”

“Keelan seems pretty insistent on banana splits.”

“Coming right up.”

When she’s out of earshot, Haley turns towards me. “I thought you said where, not who?”

“I meant both. So, are you ready for school to start Monday?”

Haley shakes her head. “Not really. Do you like it here?”

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