“Wearing my shirt again today?”
He flashed a quick smile. “I like it better than mine.”
It was my favorite, but it was clear I’d never get it back. Which oddly made me like it more. The fabric was faded blue cotton, what used to be a vibrant shade now more subdued from wash and wear. The front of the shirt had the outline of a Mustang on it, kind of like a drawing but just the bones of the car without any details.
It fit Trent tighter than me, and the sleeves clung to the rounded muscles of his arms. Once it was on, he stepped to a dresser and rummaged around to pull out a pullover sweatshirt. Instead of having a hood, it had some kind of funnel neck, which bunched up around his jaw in a casual way. It was white, and the ends of my blue T-shirt stuck out from the hem, giving him some kind of stylish double-layered look.
When he was done getting dressed, he pulled out another shirt and tossed it at me. It landed on my face, and I was momentarily blinded by cotton. I took that as a hint I was taking too long, so I slid out of bed.
The sweats I’d worn here last night were lying on the floor, and I pulled them on. They were a shade of charcoal and kind of slouchy. The shirt Trent tossed me wasn’t the one I wore last night, but one of his. It was black, my favorite, with a silver Under Armour logo on the chest.
Maybe this one would replace the one he stole.
Once I was dressed, I ran my hands through my hair and called it done. I’d grab a shower and shit later.
“Ready?” Trent grabbed his book bag and slung it over his shoulder.
I stepped up to him, welcoming that little sizzle I always felt between us, and held his stare. My deft fingers reached between us and found the undone button at the top of his pants and easily put it how it belonged.
“Oops,” Trent whispered.
My fingers lingered a little longer than necessary down by his fly. His breath smelled like mint.
“You did that on purpose.” Slowly, I drew my hands back and pulled his shirts back into place.
“I would never do such a thing.” He winked.
He was a charming bastard.
“Come on,” he murmured and caught my hand. “Let’s go eat.”
At the door, he paused and opened it a crack to peer out into the hallway. “Move fast,” he said, coming back inside and handing me the keys to his Mustang. “I’ll drive you over to your car.”
I nodded.
Before turning back, he swooped in and kissed me hard and fast.
Somehow we got lucky. I made it out of the house without anyone seeing me. We rushed across the front walkway like we’d just broken the law.
Soon as we were in T’s Mustang with the engine running, we looked at each other and laughed.
Before pulling out of the lot, Trent grasped my hand and put it on the stick shift. “I’ll drive, you shift.”
“Think that will work?” I asked, wondering how my shifting would match up to his footwork with the clutch.
“Everything else about us does,” he quipped and gripped the wheel.
Anticipating his action, I put the car in reverse. We slid back in the lot. Then I put it in one, and he spurred us forward.
It was actually a pretty cool thing. It was like proof we were as in sync as I thought. But even though the driving came natural to us, something about what he said bothered me.
Everything else about us does.
I wanted to believe that was true. I wasn’t so sure.
There was something I sensed that wasn’t exactly working for us. Our engine could be running just a little smoother.
I had some not-so-easy decisions to make.
Trent
The point of no return.
I was there.
For so long, I felt I was standing on a precipice. Looking back, but longing to gaze forward. You can’t walk forward when your eyes are looking back.
I stumbled. I fell.
I got back up.
I tried to prevent the future from becoming the past by pushing Drew away. Drew wouldn’t go. Even my family seemed to sense I had one foot out the door.
They rallied around me. Around us.
I accepted Drew’s heart and tucked it right next to mine.
So here I was. Standing in the present, turning my back on the past.
Our revolution began with love.
Drew
It felt like forever.
Being in my car and speeding down the road seemed like a distant memory in my rearview. Really, it had only been a few days. However, when the minutes between now and then were filled with so much else, it was easy for the feel of the clutch beneath my foot and the sound of the rumbling engine to cease to exist in my mind.
But never in my heart.
Fast cars and driving would be in my heart until the day it stopped beating. It could live right next to Trent.
After breakfast, T went to class, and I hit the road.
Driving alone was sometimes therapeutic. It gave me a good chance to really think and let my mind drift.
It was also damn good practice.