“How’s your niece?’”
“What?” I ask, stopping to turn.
“The baby. I heard her crying today. Is everything OK?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, letting out a sigh. “She was fussy all day. But Jason’s home now, he’ll get her to sleep. He’s good at it.” He is too. I have to reluctantly admit that.
“Good to hear,” she says. “See you around. Don’t get in any trouble tonight.”
“Right,” I say, just as Mateo’s car pulls up on the far side of the quad. It’s the red Camaro I saw in the garage and it’s rumbling like a monster. He gets out and walks around to the passenger side, opening my door for me. I take him in, I can’t help it. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, leather jacket, jeans and boots. Same old, same old. But for some reason, he looks different.
“Subtle,” I say, motioning to the loud-as-fuck car and slipping into the seat. I catch a smile as he closes the door and watch him under the streetlights as he walks around to his side and gets back in.
“Did you eat?” he asks.
“No.”
“Doesn’t that fuck feed you?”
I scoff. “Why would he?” And then I sigh again. Jesus, I’m in a bad mood. “He does give me money sometimes. But the only food he buys is formula for Olivia. I guess he eats at the restaurant.”
“What restaurant?” Mateo asks, pulling away from the curb and flipping a bitch to head back towards West Street.
“Oh, I don’t even know. I guess he works somewhere over by Disneyland. He’s a chef.”
“He’s a chef?” Mateo says with disbelief.
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing. Just interesting.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, a few blocks later when he gets on the freeway.
“Crescent Bay in Laguna.”
“Why so far? We could just go to the fire pits at Huntington.”
“You can’t see the stars in Huntington. Even with a new moon.”
“You’re taking me to see the stars?” I have to look away to hide my smile.
“So you wanna eat before or after?”
“Dinner too?”
He laughs. “God, Shannon. You act like you’ve never been on a date before.”
“This is a date?”
“Isn’t it?” he asks, squinting at me. “I guess I wasn’t clear.”
I stay silent for a few seconds, mulling this over. I hadn’t really thought about it as a date. “Well, wow.”
“Wow what?”
“I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
“You thought I was a fuck-’em-and-forget-’em kind of guy? You don’t listen very well, do you?”
“I hear you, Mateo. I just don’t believe you.”
“Fair enough. Everyone’s got baggage. But you have to believe in someone eventually. It might as well be me.”
“You lied last night. You had me freaking out that you were in my bedroom touching me while I was sleeping.”
“It turned you on. You can admit it, you know.”
“It freaked me out, Mateo.”
“Sure did,” he says. “It freaked you out so much you got on my bike ten minutes later. It freaked you out so much you agreed to go on a date with me. So why did you do those things if you think I’m creepy?”
I can’t answer that.
“Do you really need me to state the obvious?”
“Yes,” I say back. “I really do.”
“You like me.”
“I think I’m afraid of you, Mateo.”
“Then why are you here?” he asks. It’s not a confrontational question, either. It comes off as sincere. Like he needs to know the answer as much as I do. “Why not just go out with Danny Alexander?”
I sigh heavily.
“I’m gonna make you admit it tonight, so go ahead, get it over with.”
“Maybe I just want to graduate high school and I need you to help me do that.”
“I’m pretty sure Bowman would find you another teacher if you told him what was going on.”
Another heavy sigh from me.
“Just say it,” he says softly. “I’m dying to hear the words, Shannon. And once you say them out loud, you’ll feel better.”
But I don’t say them. I know he wants me to admit that I like this. But I’m just not sure I do. He’s confusing me. He mixing up the school work with the sex, even though the other day he said they are not related. He’s making them related. He’s tying my need to finish this class in with his desire to control me.
So I keep quiet and he turns some music on—Cage the Elephant, by some stupid twist of fate—and I just stare out at the other cars on the freeway. It takes a good half hour to get to Laguna and the town is bustling with people out for the evening. We park the car and get out, Mateo grabbing a backpack stuffed with things and slinging it over his shoulder as he takes my hand.
Takes. My. Hand.
I look down at it.
“You don’t like the hand-holding?” he asks, as we walk through the small grassy area towards the steps that will take us down to the beach.
“I just don’t understand the hand-holding.”
“It’s a pretty basic display of affection, Shannon. Not real complicated.”