“Sounds good to me,” I reply, glad to have a plan. “But hold on. Horses freak you out, really?”
“Yeah, don’t tell anyone though. I don’t want to ruin the image I’ve tried to maintain. You know how people are these days, always assuming every football player loves a good ole-fashioned pony ride.”
I laugh again and attempt to stifle my giddiness. His flirting pushes aside my thoughts about his potential Prom dates. As he tells me a story about his dad forcing him to ride one of those depressed donkeys at the state fair, I try not to miss any turns to Azumi. I also rally myself back into thinking my chances of him asking me to Prom might still be pretty good.
He finishes his story and I let out another giggle. “That was really shitty of your dad, but a photo op is a photo op.”
“Hey, can I get a little sympathy here? I was traumatized by a burrow with a bum knee.”
I stifle another laugh. I cannot keep laughing at everything he says. I’m being way too easy. “I’m sorry, that’s awful. Are you also afraid of––Oh my god—I’m sorry, but are you—” And now I’m laughing at my own stupid joke. One I can’t even say because I’m laughing too hard. If there’s anything worse than overlaughing at a guy’s jokes, it’s laughing at your own. I finally manage to ask him if he’s also afraid of unicorns.
He laughs with me and says, “I guess that’d be a yes. Hopefully we don’t run into any tonight.”
When we pull in to Azumi, Sean jumps out, rushes to my side of the car to finish opening my door and closes it behind me.
“Thank you,” and then again when we get to the restaurant door.
Sean slides his hand across my lower back, almost gripping my waist as we walk toward the hostess. I lose a breath as a spine-tingly warmth waves down my torso.
The hostess smiles, “Hello Sean. Are you playing tonight?”
“Nope, off duty for the night. We came for dinner. Is there a wait for a booth?”
“For you, no wait.” She waves for us to follow. “Right this way Mr. Mills.”
As I slide into the booth, a scene from last time I was here flashes in my head—me trying to avoid Chip’s stare and listening to Sean sing and play guitar. Ugh.
“Who’s this guy?” I point over to the longhaired guy in an ACDC T-shirt singing about dust in the wind.
“That’s the regular guy, Ace,” Sean says. “He’s pretty badass on the acoustic and electric. He’s in a band that actually does gigs. Pretty cool.”
“What about you? Are you going to do more with your music or football next year?”
“I only got offered a couple partial scholarships for football, so I’m not going anywhere. Just L.C.C.”
“I’d hardly call Lakeville Community College ‘anywhere,’ since that’s where I’ll be too.”
“Nice.” His face brightens as he leans back into the booth. “It seems like everyone’s doing their best to get out of here. I plan on it, but I’m not in a rush. I’ll get my associate’s and maybe move to Nashville where I can make music contacts and hopefully get a good internship.”
“Nashville? Does that mean you want to be a country singer?”
“I’m not sure. I’m more rock with a pop, country, and blues influence. I’m into a lot of different styles right now but I have a lot to learn. One thing I do know is that I want to write music. Guitar and singing, sure, but I want to write songs for everyone, write across genres—and maybe a few that my mom will sing along to on KDWB.”
“That’s really cool. Do you write a lot of stuff now?”
“Yep. I’m not saying it’s Grammy material or anything, but I’ve written a lot lately.”
“Oh, okay. Hmmmm,” I say, running my finger back and forth between the sushi and entrée menus, remembering how he asked for help with his poetry assignment. If he can write songs, there is no way he needed my help for Nord’s class. The only thing I can do to hide the gigantic smile pulling on the corners of my mouth is to keep talking. “Well, maybe I can be your manager or at least the girl screaming all the words in the front row. I like your plan better than mine. My big plan is to not have a plan right now. But I’m okay with it. And I’m glad I’ll see you in school.”
After dinner, I drive us to my house. The first thing I see when I click our garage door open is that Mom’s car is gone.
“Guess my mom actually did go out. Wow.” I dial Mom’s number as we head inside. I leave a message saying that Sean and I are hanging out here. “So don’t come home and embarrass me,” I whisper into the receiver and hang up.
There’s a yellow Post-it stuck to the counter:
Bree!
Went out with work friends.
Be home later.
Hope you had fun with Sean!!!!
Love, Mom
Next to Sean’s name she’s drawn a heart and smiley face. Of course my face gets hot and I quickly flip the note over.
“A heart and a smiley face? Guess your mom has a crush on me,” Sean says as I glance up to him hovering over my shoulder.