The Flynn Effect

25 | opening up

Jo

"I DIDN'T KNOW you had a pick-up truck," I say once we get to the drive-in theatre while he parks next to a blue sports car. The interior of the truck is clean and organized but the fading paint and the vintage stereo makes me realize that it's old.

"You don't know anything about me," he says and pauses to give me a look. "Which is why we're doing this."

"I'm certain I know some things about you."

He raises his brows. "Like what?"

"Um, you're a womanizer and you think everyone has a crush on you," I reply, giving him a look of my own.

A faint smirk plays around his lips. "Fair enough but not entirely true," he turns off the ignition and gets out of the car. He closes the door and slaps it twice. "Be right back."

I turn around in the chair and look out the window. About a dozen and a half cars are parked behind us while a shadow dances across the huge white screen. A couple of people are lying on the hoods of their car while most of them remain seated inside. About five people linger around the snack stalls and when I don't see Flynn, I assume he's at the back of the truck doing whatever he's doing.

I face forward and open the cabinet in front of me and I'm surprised when I see the number of CDs stacked together in a pile. I leaf through them and then I realize that they are a mix of Elton John, Beethoven, The Beatles and an 80's rock band I didn't know existed. There's also an album sitting right next to it, but before I'm able to reach for it, Flynn raps my side of the truck and gestures for me to come down.

I get out of the car and stretch my arms as I stare at the sky. It's a little past eight o' clock so it's pitch black but the number of stars illuminating the sky makes it picture perfect. Inwardly I'm relieved because I'd rather sit here with Flynn than go home to answer mum's flurry of questions concerning how it went with Drew. I follow Flynn to the back of the truck and I'm impressed when I see it covered in blankets and a little more than half a dozen funnily shaped pillows. He climbs onto the platform and sticks out a hand.

"Nice job," I say, taking his hand and climbing onto it.

He shrugs, like he's heard this several times. "I'm a natural."

"Yeah, right." I roll my eyes and sink down on the incredibly soft floor layered with multiple blankets that almost make it seem like a bed. I sit upright and grab the baby whale pillow before turning to Flynn. He sits next to me—not too far and not too close—and then, he hands me a bucket of caramel coated popcorn and a vanilla milkshake.

"Merci," I place the baby whale between us and balance the snacks on my legs. "So when'd you get the truck?"

He sucks from the straw in his milkshake and licks his lips. "It's my dad's," he says. "I mean, it used to be his until he stopped driving so it's kinda mine now. Take it out from time to time."

"Why'd he stop driving?"

"He enlisted when I was three. They were ambushed in Afghanistan and he got wounded in action. Paralyzed from his waist down. Once in a while, he still has nightmares about it."

I frown, remorse sticking to me like a second skin. "I'm sorry."

He shrugs and lifts his gaze to the white screen. The opening credits are being projected on it already which means it has started. "It's okay."