By the time we stepped off the plane and climbed into a rental car, Drew became more withdrawn as the miles between us and his childhood dwindled. Though it worried me, I knew it wasn’t me he was withdrawing from. It was from the situation, from the emotions erupting inside him. Right now, all he could do was retreat inside his head; it was the only way he could try and process.
At first, it freaked me out. I’d asked him a question, and he didn’t reply. So I asked him again. When he still didn’t answer, I wondered what I’d done to piss him off. Nothing. Even if there were something, he wouldn’t give me the silent treatment.
No offense to the ladies, but men didn’t operate like that.
Fine, that was a broad generalization. Drew and I didn’t operate like that.
He simply hadn’t heard me. He was deep in the confines of his busy mind. So I left him there. Trying to pull him out would be like waking a sleepwalker.
I used the time to think. What would I say if they didn’t accept us? What would I say if they did? Would this be awkward? Would they look at me as someone looks at a stranger when Drew told them he loved me?
That’s what I feared the most.
Becoming a stranger to people to whom I would have otherwise just been me. It’s like everything I was, the college student, the athlete, the friend, the son… the man—all of that would somehow be cancelled out when people found out where the heart inside my body lay.
I was still the same.
Drew was still the same.
So far, we’d been lucky. We’d yet to become strangers to people we knew. How long would it last? How much luck did one man get?
Surely I’d used up my lifetime allowance. I had Drew; he was like the jackpot of luck.
After our meeting at Gamble Speedway, we’d driven to the airport for the quick flight to North Carolina. The Fastback was parked at headquarters where the pros kept their cars. There was no way we’d leave the car in the long-term lot at the airport, so Joey had driven us, dropping us off right at the curb near the terminal.
It wasn’t going to be a long trip. We were catching a plane back tomorrow night. I had classes Monday morning and frat shit all next week.
GearShark jumped on the interview when we called. Well, technically, Emily, the journalist, jumped on the interview. Even though we didn’t say what it was about, she knew, and of course she wanted the scoop. I wasn’t surprised. I expected it. I was surprised she wanted me as the main feature of the article. I wasn’t the racing star. But it was what we’d all discussed Friday night at dinner, and it was what Drew wanted.
I was waiting on a call back from her on the schedule and details. However, the interview would be soon. Emily didn’t want any chance one of us would get cold feet.
I glanced at Drew and frowned. Is he getting cold feet right now?
Drew grew up in the mountains of North Carolina where the trees were tall and thick, the landscape was green, and the dialect was unmistakable. His parents were well off, not millionaires or anything, but they lived a comfortable life. They didn’t live in a totally secluded area; it was definitely within driving distance of a more populated area, but the land they owned and the fact their home sat deep on the property made a man forget they didn’t have to drive hours for a gallon of milk or a pizza.
I wouldn’t necessarily call where they lived a farm because there weren’t livestock roaming around and tractors in the field, but there was a definite feel of country here.
The road stretching across their property was paved and well maintained. I drove slow across it so I could gaze at the open fields, tall grasses (yes, even coming out of the winter season), thick areas of tall pine trees, and a distant view of majestic mountains.
The speed I’d chosen was also of benefit to Drew. He needed all the time he could get.
Soon, a ranch-style house came into view. It was a big house, only one story so it sprawled out horizontally. It was a nice place with a natural stone exterior and wide porch with an arched cover over the double front door. On the cement porch were oversized planters filled with greenery that spilled over the sides and didn’t appear bothered that it wasn’t quite summer out. ‘Course, around here it didn’t matter. This was the South. It was sunny and bright and approaching eighty degrees.
There was no garage attached to the house. Instead, the cars were parked on a paved driveway that ran alongside the house instead of in front of it. There were two cars there, and my stomach twisted a little. Both his parents were here. Waiting.
I knew they had questions.
Drew literally called them up a few days ago and told them he was coming to visit. He didn’t offer much by way of explanation. While I knew they were excited to see him, parents wouldn’t be parents if they didn’t know when something was up.
I had a very strong suspicion this was the reason he suddenly hated looking at his phone. He didn’t want to have to try and explain via text or voicemail why he was coming. He just wanted to ignore his mother’s questions.
I didn’t say shit about it. When he powered down his phone and shoved it inside his duffle before we went through security at the airport, I pretended not to notice. He didn’t need me harping on him. He didn’t need me to tell him he was wrong or, hell, tell him he was right.