It didn’t make any sense that I could make someone as composed and perfect as Peter nervous. I was inconsequential in every way. Naturally, Jack didn’t answer me. He just shrugged and walked into the house.
“Hurry up before you freeze to death!” Jack yelled, and I rushed in after him.
By the time I had gotten dressed, Jack was waiting by the door for me. He twirled the car keys on his hands and whistled a song that sounded suspiciously like “Walking on Sunshine.”
At the door, Mae hugged me tightly and reminded me that I had to come visit her soon. Looking rather pained, she apologized for Peter’s behavior, and I wondered what he had done that had offended them so much.
“Which car are we taking?” I had followed Jack out into the garage, but he looked like he was walking all the way down to the other end, so I already knew what it was.
“The Lamborghini, of course.”
“How do you decide which car you’re going to take?” Now, with a million other questions burning in my mind, this was the only question I wasn’t afraid to ask.
“I only take this when Ezra’s gone,” he explained sheepishly as he hopped in the driver’s seat. When I got in, he started it and adjusted the stereo. “He thinks it’s too flashy. And my Jeep is fun but it’s not as fast, so I usually just take Mae’s Jetta. The Lexus is Ezra’s ‘every day’ car and the Audi is Peter’s.”
“If you like the car so much, why didn’t you just get one?” I asked as Jack backed out of the garage.
“Ezra says we don’t need to stand out that much.”
“Well, then why did he even bother buying this car? And you live in a house shaped like a castle and he drives a Lexus. How is any of that inconspicuous?” I looked at him skeptically, and he grinned at me.
“Exactly!” He pulled out of the driveway and sped down the road. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, trying to take in everything that had happened. When Jack spoke again, his tone had gotten somber. “So, what did you think of my family?”
“I liked them. Mae is very nice, and your house is stunning.” I kept my eyes closed and listened to the Joy Division cover playing on the radio. It reminded me of Gary Jules, but I knew that wasn’t it. “Who is this?”
“Honeyroot doing ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart,’” Jack answered, and without missing a beat, returned to the topic. “So you had a good time then?”
“I did.” Mostly. Except for the parts when Peter sucked all the air from my lungs and I wanted to die.
“You’re awfully quiet. I’d been expecting a million questions from you.”
“Oh, I have them,” I reassured him. “Is Mae from England?” Jack laughed, and I turned to look at him. “What? Was I way off?”
“No, it’s just… that’s the question you ask?” He shook his head, smiling. “That’s like the most normal thing you could possibly ask. I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“What were you expecting me to ask?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out what part of the night he thought I’d find the most odd.
“Yeah, she’s from England.” He once again hedged my question.
“They’re like you, aren’t they?” I asked, watching him carefully.
“Nobody’s like me,” Jack replied flippantly. “I’m a one in a million, baby!”
“Jack, you know what I mean.”
“I do,” he sighed. His expression got pained, and he was almost pleading with me. “You liked them and you had a good time. Can’t we just leave it at that?”
“Why did you want me to meet them?”
Meeting them had made him more vulnerable and more susceptible to my questions. I don’t know how it benefited him. Mae had wanted to meet me, I’m sure, but he could’ve put that off.
“That is way too complicated for me to answer right now,” Jack said simply.
“When will things stop being so complicated?” I had started whining a little, but I’d had a long day, so I thought I had earned the right to whine just a bit.
“That’s probably the best question you’ve ever asked me.” Jack sounded very far away and rather sad, so I knew the answer wouldn’t be anything I’d want to hear anyway. For once, I was grateful for his silence. After a very pregnant pause, he exhaled deeply. “I feel drawn to you.”
“That’s why things are complicated?” I sat up straighter in my seat, eager to hear what sounded like a legitimate answer.
“No. Well, kinda, but that’s not what I meant.” He glanced over at me, and then returned his gaze to the road. “That’s why I wanted you to meet my family.”
“So was that like me meeting your parents?” I crinkled my nose. “Like we’re dating?”
“No, it’s not like that. You know what I mean. You feel it too, right?” His eyes flitted back over to me, then quickly away again. “Like you feel drawn to me. You enjoy me and everything, but you feel kind of compelled to be around me.”
“I guess,” I said noncommittally. He’d actually hit the nail on the head, but I didn’t want to admit to that.