One Day

Part 37 - Friends

I didn't expect to be so comfortable around him. All of our encounters over the past year and a half have been fueled by alcohol or anger, or both.

"So, where do we go from here?" I ask.

"Do you mean literally or are you just talking in general?" he asks, still looking at me.

I laugh, "Whichever."

"This may sound childish but do you think we could maybe try to be friends?" His innocence in asking makes me smile.

"Yeah, I think that's a good place to start." We have so many things to talk through and I have so many questions that I've been hiding away for far too long. I need answers to be able to fully forgive him but I don't think that now is the time to get started down that path.

"We could go for a drive," he says and shrugs his shoulders.

That was our thing – going for a drive. Every single Sunday evening we would go for a drive. It didn't matter what was going on, we always dedicated time for our Sunday drives like some old couple. We would drive until we would get lost somewhere and I'd have to navigate our way back home. He had a terrible sense of direction but those evenings with my feet stretched across the bench seat with my hair flying around from the rush of wind through the open windows were some of my favorite moments. We would talk and laugh and fight. We would plan our future together and name our kids.

My mind flashes to Jace and guilt fills my stomach. "That's probably not the greatest idea."

He nods. "Does he know you're here?" he asks as if reading my mind.

"Yep," I say quickly.

"And he didn't mind?" he questions as his eyebrows raise.

"Not at all, actually," I say knowing how odd it may sound. "He never really cares what I do or who I'm with...." I say more to myself than to him. I wonder why that is?

"Do you think that maybe he doesn't say anything about you talking to me or picking me up when I'm drunk because it makes him feel better about trying to talk to January?" he asks and my mouth hangs opens.

"How do you know that?" I question. My mind is quickly going through our brief conversations trying to determine if I've mentioned it in my anger.

"We've talked."

I'm sure my face is of pure confusion. "Who? Us? Or you and Jace?"

"Hell, no. January and I - we've talked a few times," he says as if it's not a big deal. They weren't friends in high school and they don't share any mutual friends – why in the world have they talked?

"That's really weird, don't you think?" I scrunch my eyebrows together trying to read his expression.

"Not really if you think about it. He broke up with her, you had left me – we had something in common. It's not like we are best friends – stop looking at me like that!" He laughs. "We don't even talk anymore so you can stop being so surprised."

I shake my head and shrug my shoulders. "I just never pictured you and January being friends, I guess. It's still weird."

I think back to the whole reason we got started on this topic anyway and wonder if Jacob is right. I'm going to have to ask Jace if the reason he didn't care for me picking up drunk Jacob and for coming here to talk to him tonight is because in some twisted way it helps him justify his actions. I'm lost in thought when Jacob brings me back talking about his family and how happy his mom is that he is back in town.

The sun is setting and an orange glow fills the truck as we catch each other up on the past year of our lives. Conversation comes as easily as it once did and orange quickly fades into darkness as our conversation begins to slow.

"I need to get home," I say as I pick up my phone and keys from the bench seat between us.

He nods but doesn't make any move to turn around towards the steering wheel. "Can I text you?"

I hesitate for just a moment before I remember that we decided to try to be friends. "Yeah."

We sit for a moment longer, neither one of us knowing how to end the night. "Okay, well I'll talk to you later."

I reach for the door handle and hop out of his truck. I turn around to tell him bye but he's already out of his door and walking around the back of the truck. I shut the door and watch him walk towards me. Before I realize what he's doing, he wraps his arms around me and a familiar warmth comes flooding back.

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