Nebraska Stars

Chapter Fifteen

I sat in Hank's truck, my legs sticking to the hot faux leather seat, waiting anxiously for him to appear. I kept switching my gaze between the front door and the side of the house, not knowing where he'd be coming from. Had he taken Hailey inside to talk to her? Was he breaking up with her in front of everyone out by the pool? God, I hoped not. I should have told him to take her aside, I thought. But he wouldn't humiliate her in front of everyone, not after agonizing over hurting her feelings the way he had. 

The truck was silent except for noise coming in through the windows-birds chirping, a distant lawnmower. I looked to the front door. Nothing. I looked to the side of the house. Nothing. I felt like a getaway driver. I sat there, my body humming with nervousness and the excitement of knowing that when Hank finally got in the truck, he would basically be my boyfriend. I had never had a boyfriend. 

I tapped my fingers against the seat, and shifted my body, trying to un-stick my legs. I remembered that Hank liked to keep his keys in the visor. I reached up and felt around for them and sure enough, there they were. I slid into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition. The truck roared to life. I had never driven it before, had never even sat in the driver's seat before. I didn't know if Hank would be mad, but I was grateful for the distraction of the noise of the engine. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and looked over to the front door and the side of the house again, but he still wasn't there. What was taking him so long? I had already been waiting for half an hour. I imagined what he might be saying to Hailey, and what she might be saying back. She was probably screaming at him, calling him crazy for liking someone like me. Or maybe she was trying to convince him to stay. Maybe they were having sex. Break-up sex. They were definitely having break-up sex right now. Stop it, I told myself.  

I wanted to call Jo, to tell her everything, and to ask her advice. I had no idea how to be a girlfriend to someone, let alone someone like Hank. He had experience. He and Hailey had been dating for three years. He was probably used to...certain things. The more I thought about it, I stopped wanting him to appear in front of Billie's house. I needed more time, to think about what to say to him, and how to act around him. And then, of course, there he was. He had changed back into his normal clothes, and was walking slowly down Billie's front steps, looking exhausted and dazed. As he got closer to the truck, his eyes met mine. I could see he'd been crying.  

A quick look of confusion crossed his face when he saw me sitting in the driver's seat, but he didn't say anything, just walked around and got in the passenger side. He closed the door firmly and we sat in silence for a few moments. I buckled my seatbelt and the clicking sound made him look over at me. 

"Are you ok?" I asked, my heart pounding. These were the first words I was saying to Hank as his girlfriend. I wanted to do everything right.  

"Uh, yeah..." he said. He wiped at his eyes and took a deep breath. "I feel like an asshole." 

I put the car in reverse and started to back up, but I pushed too hard on the gas pedal and the truck lurched. "Whoa!" Hank shouted, looking at me sharply. "Can you drive this?" 

"Yeah, I can, I can, sorry," I said. He didn't look at me, but sank back in his seat and put a hand over his eyes. I wanted to stop the car and reach over to comfort him, but I also wanted to get out of there. I had an image in my head of Hailey racing across the yard, fists clenched, face twisted in anger, ready to kill, that I didn't want to come true.  

I backed all the way down Billie's driveway, twisting and turning in my seat every few seconds as I checked the rearview and side mirrors to make sure I wasn't going to smash into anything. There were more cars now, parked sideways in the grass and along the edge of the driveway. More kids had begun to arrive as I was waiting for Hank. I had watched them, one couple after another, walking up the driveway like they were streaming into an amusement park or summer concert-tanned muscular guys balancing cases of beer on their shoulders and holding the hands of their petite, blond girlfriends. Some of the girls carried plastic bottles of liquor or struggled with huge beach bags, packed to the brim with towels and extra clothes, and who knew what else.