Before You

Chapter Twelve.

"I don't like surprises." I laughed nervously as the big truck thundered beneath me.

"Oh, I figured as much, Kit." He said quickly. "You didn't seem like the type who does, which is exactly what makes this more fun."

I narrowed my eyes at the side of his freshly shaven face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He laughed easily, smacking me on the knee. "Don't be so easy to bother." He told me. "You let people see that teasing you gets a rise out of you and everyone will do it."

"You sure are good at avoiding questions, aren't you?" I crossed my arms.

He laughed again, taking an exit ahead. "I am, and you are stubborn as an old mule, but somehow only with me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when you're around your friends you kind of get quiet. I'm not sure if you're different with them, or different with me, but either way, you only have that flare of backbone with me." He shrugged.

I didn't have to wonder if it was my friends or him that made me act differently. That answer was pretty easy to figure out. What I didn't know was which of those two versions of myself the true one was. Instead of thinking too much on it, I set my jaw and narrowed my eyes even more at him. "So first I'm a party pooper who doesn't like surprises or fun, and now you call me a pushover?" I huffed. "Why do you want to be friends with me again?"

He cut his eyes over to me and winked. "I told you you were too easy to rile up."

"Shut up." I smirked, he'd tricked me right into that one.

We fell quiet for a while and I rolled my window down, leaning my head into the breeze and letting it swat my ponytail around. I used to love doing this as a kid, laying my head in the window and watching the world fly by. I can't remember the last time I'd done it. The crisp morning air made my skin feel alive and the aches in my bones from a rough night melted away as the slow country song played out on the radio.

I didn't even notice that I'd started to sing a long until Hunter started to sing too. He wasn't great, but his voice wasn't bad either, especially not in unison with the deep soulful voice that crooned along with us. When the song ended we both smiled at each other for a second before he turned his eyes back to the road in a hurry, some weird expression crossing his face only for a second.

"How do you like your new job?" He asked suddenly.

"You want to make small talk with me now?" I asked. "Boring old pushover me?"

"Now which of us is evading questions?"

"Answering a question with a question, nice move." I tipped my head. "Definitely should've been a psychology major." I added, then sighed, leaning my head back down. "I like work a lot actually. It's easy, but it feels good, being around all those books and getting to smell the freshly brewed coffee all day. I like feeling like I'm actually doing something for myself for once."

"You're lucky that you had parents who were willing to support you." He said thoughtfully. "Not everyone does."

I nodded sadly. "I know." I muttered, thinking about how that was one of the things that had led me to thinking about being a teacher. I had great support systems and influences in my life, but so many grow up feeling so alone. I want to be able to be there for those kids, always letting them know that I'm there for them whatever they might need. "You've never told me about your parents before." I turned toward him again.

"Not much to tell." He said, a shift to his usually calm and collected expression. He looked...lost. Kind of like a little boy again, even though looking at the rest of him he clearly wasn't.