Dipping Into Together

Ch 8

It had been two hours, and I was almost asleep. I was leaning up against the stop sign, my eyes closed. The minutes stretched into hours as I awaited Jonah’s return. I breathed in the night and forced my eyes open. I couldn’t fall asleep here, looking like a hobo. I curled my toes and glanced up at the sky. It was really pretty out tonight. There were so many stars in the sky. I unconsciously chewed on the side of my thumb, studying the sky. I tilted my head and lowered my gaze down to Jonah’s house.

It was so big. I wondered what his parents were like. Did he have any siblings?

I got up without thinking. My legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they carried me closer and closer to Jonah’s house. I didn’t have to care about him. I could turn away right now and I would never have to talk to him again. It would be over. That would be the end of it.

But there was something about what I had with Jonah, no matter how short, that was different. I used to have friends, before my dad died. None of them had been like this, though.

Before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of Jonah’s driveway, staring up at his house. What was it about him? Why was I so drawn to him? Maybe it was because he was the closest thing I’d had to a friend since Dad died.

I sensed the headlights on my back before I fully registered what was happening. Whirling around, I was blinded by the headlights. I covered my eyes with my hand and waited for him to take the keys out. I heard him get out of the car, but the lights didn’t turn off.

I took a deep breath and lowered my hand. I couldn’t see anything. Trying to move out of the light, I walked over to the other side of the hood. I looked over at Jonah, standing on the opposite side of the car, staring at me.

When our eyes met, my breath caught. “Jonah.”

His face was blank, showing absolutely no emotion. We simply stood there and stared at each other. I felt like I should say something, do something, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t have said anything even if I’d wanted to. What could I say? A lot, actually. I didn’t have the guts to open my mouth, though. It was when I’d just met him. The silence was awkward and left me wondering what he was thinking.

He glanced down at what I was wearing. I blushed slightly because I was still wearing his sweatshirt. Thankfully, it was dark so he couldn’t see the color rising to my cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked. His voice was leveled and emotionless, as if the answer to his question didn’t really matter.

I took a deep breath; my heart rate increased. “You were wrong,” I said. Surprisingly, my voice came out sounding strong and confident. Internally, I gave a sigh of relief that I didn’t stutter.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, I never read the paper.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

I had to keep my façade and act like I didn’t care. So, I shrugged and tilted my head a little. “Well, yeah, it’s the truth.”

“So you’re telling me,” he said, his voice rising slightly, “that I didn’t see you with the paper in your hands?”

I shrugged again. “No, you saw that. But I never read it. I had opened your glove compartment and it fell out. So, I picked it up and put it back. And then you walked out and came to conclusions all by yourself and then left.”

“What were you doing in my car to begin with?”

“Not really sure.”

“Well figure it out.”