“You got it.”
When I came out to the car a few minutes later, after bathing his keys in hot soapy water and then a follow-up hand sanitizer shower, he still looked conflicted. “Listen, Bay, about what happened—”
“I don’t care, Charlie,” I groaned. “Did you get my licorice?”
He got a crinkle between his eyebrows. “It’s in the front seat, in the console.”
“Sweet. And my energy drink?”
“Same place,” he said.
“Excellent.” I crossed my arms and said, “So, I don’t really want to drive; I just want radio control. Cool?”
He gave a nod. “Cool.”
We got into the car and hit the road, and we were quiet for a solid two minutes before Charlie said, “I feel like I need to—”
“You don’t.” I reached out my arm and stuck a Twizzler into his mouth, and watched his jaw as he immediately started chewing without question. “Never happened, unless you want to talk about it, in which case I’m happy to listen. Now, on to more important things: Do you prefer country or pop?”
“Can I say neither?” he asked, taking one hand off the wheel to hold the end of the licorice. He looked away from the road for a second, his eyes sweeping over my face with a thoroughness that made me feel like he was looking for something.
“You can say it, but it won’t change the fact that those are your choices,” I explained, feeling my cheeks get hot.
He groaned before saying, “Pop, I guess.”
“Pop it is.” I took over the radio, searching for the most annoying music I could find, and time flew by as Colorado gave us a lot to look at. The aspens were bright yellow, dotted across the mountains that our highway wove through, and all of a sudden I remembered why people moved away from Nebraska and never came back.
The place was breathtaking.
“Look at that,” I said, pointing to a stream running parallel to the highway. “It’s so gorgeous.”
“That’s twenty-one times,” he said, reaching for the can of Red Bull in the cup holder. “That you’ve said that.”
“I know, but it’s impossible to stop.”
“Obviously,” he said, and I knew he agreed with me. Something about the scenery and the mountain air made us both more relaxed, made us both feel like we were on a full-on vacation.
“I almost don’t want to get there—is that weird?” I asked, biting down on my piece of licorice.
“No,” he replied, taking a drink. I watched his Adam’s apple move while he swallowed, and something about the motion seemed… sexy?
Yeah, that was weird. Not sexy, you idiot.
“You don’t know what’s going to happen when you get there, and you hate that.” He set down the can and said to me, “Here in the car, there is no mystery. It’s just a road trip with your amazing coworker.”
“That’s probably it,” I agreed. “Not the amazing coworker piece, but the rest.”
“The part I’m looking forward to,” he said, reaching out a hand for more licorice without looking away from the road, “is not thinking about anything from home for the entire time. I want to wake up every day and only worry about how I’m going to irritate Glasses.”
I pulled a Twizzler from the bag and held it out in front of his face.
He bit down on it, then turned his head and grinned at me in a way that did things to my stomach.
I cleared my throat and turned my eyes out the window. “What things don’t you want to think about?”
“Bay.” He made a noise of protest, something that sounded like a growl-groan combo. “If I say it, then I’m thinking about it.”
“But we aren’t there yet, so it’s allowed,” I verified.
I thought for sure he would change the subject, but instead he said, “The number one thing I don’t want to think about is Bec and Kyle. The number two thing I don’t want to think about is the fact that my mom is pregnant.”
“What?” I stopped chewing. “When did you find out? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Charlie’s forehead crinkled as he tilted his head to the side. His sunglasses were so dark that I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew my question had surprised him.
“My mom mentioned it last night,” he said, “but it’s no big deal.”
“I mean, you’re going to have a new sibling,” I said, trying to make him excited. “That’s a really big deal.”
“Yeah,” he said tightly, and I couldn’t read what he meant by that.
“Are you bummed?” I asked quietly, as if the lower volume would make everything better. “I mean, if I found out my dad was having another kid, I think it would freak me out.”
“Really?” he replied, his emotions still unreadable.
“Yeah. I mean, things with him are already weird and distant, so how would a new kid in his life ever help that?”
“Can we not talk about this?” he asked on a sigh, but it wasn’t unkind. He just sounded exhausted about it all. “I’m happy for them and I’m sure it will be great—my sister is fucking over the moon—but I just haven’t wrapped my head around it yet.”
“Sure.” I crossed my arms and propped my feet on his dashboard. “So let’s talk about Bec.”
“You little shit.” Charlie glanced over at me, shaking his head and grinning as he reached out a hand and knocked down my feet. “How about we talk about Zack instead?”
“Ooh, no thank you,” I said, glad he was smiling again. “Hard pass.”
“Any movement with him?” he asked, pulling off his sunglasses and dropping them onto the dash. “Conversations that felt promising, looks exchanged, anything like that…?”
“Actually,” I said, “I don’t really ever see or talk to him.”
“What?” His face got all screwed up. “How are you hung up on him if you never see or talk to him?”
“I’m hung up on the memory of him,” I said, wondering why it felt more comfortable trying to explain it to Charlie than it did to Nekesa. “And the fact that we aren’t done.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar with that last part,” he said, reaching out to flip the radio even though it wasn’t his turn. “But how are you ever going to reconnect if you don’t have any contact?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other sometime soon.”
“Do you have the same friends?” he asked. “I see Bec all the time because we have the same friends.”
“No, um,” I said, not wanting to sound like a dork. “We kind of hang in different crowds.”
“He’s not a super reader with a billion online buddies?”
That made me look over at him in surprise, because I’d never told him about my bookstagram account. “Are you on Instagram?”
He grinned but didn’t answer, instead saying, “Why? Do you want to be my friend?”
“I’m already your friend, moron,” I teased, a little shocked that he’d obviously found me on social media.
“Coworker,” he corrected. That made me roll my eyes, which made him chuckle.
Just then my phone buzzed. Nekesa.
My parents are treating me like I killed a man.
“I feel so bad for her,” I said to Charlie, “that she’s not on the trip.”