“Okay, yeah. I mean, if that’s okay with you, Indie.”
Even though she doesn’t seem to like the idea, she goes for it.
“That’s fine. Come on, Castle,” she says, walking toward the front door, but not before giving Rusty a quick hug. “Tell your brother I said hi. Maybe I’ll catch him around campus.”
“He wants a rain check. Don’t discount him. I promise, he’s worth the wait.”
Calling over her shoulder, she says, “And yet, I’m not looking to date anyone.” Rusty goes to respond, but she stops him before he can. “I know, I know. Free dinner. Bye, Rusty.”
“See ya, Mayhem.”
Man, she smells good. Now that we’re in my Jeep, driving to her place, with no Brussels sprouts to drown out her scent, she’s all I can smell. All girly and shit, sweet and fucking good.
I want to bury my head in her skin and soak it up.
“Why do you look like you’re trying to hold in a fart?” she asks.
Okay, maybe not bury my head in her skin.
“You hold nothing back, do you?”
“Call it like I see it. You look pained. Dude, just let it loose if it’s going to cause you that much discomfort.”
“I don’t have to fart, but thanks for that.”
“Huh, could have fooled me.”
The GPS tells me to turn right, but I keep going straight.
“Uh, you missed the turn.”
“I know.”
“Is this another one of those milkshake things? Because I have to tell you, I’m not eating anything bad for me right now.”
“So, Frankie Donuts is a no-go?”
“That’s a giant no, which is painful to say because I would do just about anything to eat one of their strawberry lemonade donuts right now.”
“Strawberry lemonade? Are you insane? Pistachio all the way.”
“What? Only seventy-year-old ladies with cat-themed canes eat the pistachio donuts.”
“Have you even tried one?” I ask, then make a right onto the street that leads straight to the small parking spot overlooking Lake Michigan.
“No.”
“Then how the hell can you say they’re not good?”
“I didn’t say they weren’t good. I just scoffed at a twenty-year old eating one.”
I back into a parking spot and then put my Jeep into park. “Come on,” I say, nodding toward a bench that overlooks the lake.
There’s hesitation in her eyes, as if she’s unsure if she should tell me to take her straight to her house. I hold my breath for a few beats before she sighs and opens her door.
Getting her to come with me is like pulling teeth.
We sit on the wooden bench, and I drape my arm over the back while she pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around her shins.
“Why did you bring me here?”
I tap the back of the bench, staring at the small waves that crash against the water’s edge. “Looked like you needed some fresh air—after the Brussels sprouts and all. I come here when I’m feeling overwhelmed or just need a second from everyone. Living with five guys can make you a little crazy at times.”
“Did I look overwhelmed?”
“You hide it well, but I sensed you were antsy to get out of the house.”
She doesn’t answer, but stares out at the lake instead, resting her chin on her folded arms. After a few seconds of silence, she says, “Rusty was my rock my first semester of college. We both didn’t know what we were doing, but he practically held my hand through all the firsts of college, especially our first party. I drank way too much and if it wasn’t for his intervention, I don’t know what would have happened to me that night. I honestly can’t even think about it. I feel like I owe him so much, and when he asked me to meet his brother, I felt obligated.”
“Even though you don’t want to date.”
“Exactly,” she says.
Surprised that she’s actually opening up given the sarcastic façade she likes to present, I say, “I’m sure if you said that to Rusty he’d be horrified. He does things out of the kindness of his heart. He would never want to push you to do something you really don’t want to do.”
“I know. And I’m sure if I told him I truly wasn’t interested, he’d back off. I just don’t have it in me to say anything.”
“Want me to tell him to back off?”
“No,” she says, horrified. “God, please don’t do that. I think he’d be more insulted if I didn’t talk to him myself.”
“You’re probably right.” Even though I hate to admit it, I say, “Deacon is a good guy. Who knows, you might hit it off.”
“Maybe, but I really don’t need the distraction.”
“I feel you on that. But maybe he won’t be a distraction,” I say, feeling like I’m actually talking about myself.
I would never admit this to my mom, but I enjoy Indie’s company, even when she’s prickly. When I saw her in the kitchen, excitement bloomed in my stomach, and when I found out she was there to hang out with someone else, it didn’t settle well. That’s why I ate my stinky Brussels sprouts in front of her, and why I so quickly offered to take her home.
I want to be around her. To hear her talk. To have her listen.
It’s a different feeling, something I’m experiencing for the first time with a girl.
I kind of like it.
“Maybe you need someone to escape with,” I say.
“Escape, huh?” She smiles at me. “Isn’t that we’re doing right now?”
“I guess so.”
She nudges me with her foot. “So, does that make you my escape buddy?”
“Not sure you could handle me as your escape buddy, especially since you’re not partaking in milkshakes and Frankie Donuts.”
“Just until after testing. And during the season I try to keep it clean too. As best as I can. I have my moments where I find myself standing in line at Frankie Donuts, trying to fill my stomach with the air alone.”
“I gained a cool freshman fifteen because of Frankie Donuts.”
“No, you didn’t.” She laughs, and it’s such a great sound. It has an unexpected rhythm to it, smooth and a little throaty. “How could you possibly gain fifteen pounds on Disik’s program? Aren’t freshmen basically running machines for the first year?”
“Trust me, I ate a lot of donuts. Hartley had to have a conversation with me, because he felt the weight tack on from the donuts I took back to our dorm.”
“You’re going to have to show me pictures, because I don’t believe it. And I can barely remember what I looked like as a freshman, let alone someone else.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. I sift through my Instagram pictures and find one of me, Hartley, and Asher at the baseball loft. I chuckle and hand her my phone.
She sits up as her mouth practically hits the top of her knees. “Oh my God, I can practically see all the pistachio donuts under your shirt.”
“Told you.”
She hands me back my phone and I watch as her eyes travel over my body. “Well, you’ve worked them off, that’s for sure.”