Steady

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

After a dinner of shrimp fondue and burgers on pretzel buns, we end up driving straight back to the apartment. The conversation throughout the meal was light and carefree and it's apparent, since we're not making a move to get out of the truck, that neither of us want the night to end.

"I can totally picture you looking like Harry Potter as a child," I say in response to Jay's story about growing up with wire-rimmed glasses and hand-me-down clothes from his older cousins.

"Yeah, contacts were quite a blessing when I got into high school."

"I can imagine. But hey, at least you weren't the brace-face weirdo with frizzy red hair and way too many freckles."

"There's no way kids could have made fun of you. I bet you were adorable."

My heart warms even as flashes of snarling bullies cartwheel through my mind.

"No. I really wasn't. My hair was beyond control and my mom made me wear plaid dresses all the time. It was a nightmare."

Jay scrunches his nose at my description and slowly shakes his head.

"Plaid dresses? Do those even exist?"

"They do," I answer. "And I have the school pictures to prove it."

"I think I'm gonna need to see those," he says, nodding toward the apartment.

"Absolutely not."

"Killjoy." He rubs a hand along the stubble of his jaw like he's deep in thought and I know he's concocting some way to get the girls to dig out the pictures. "So, I know you probably hate being asked this, but I'm really curious..."

My head falls to the side and I narrow my gaze. I've been wearing a low-cut top all night and, unlike my previous dates, Jay hasn't stared at my scar. Not once. In all honesty, I'm surprised he's gone this long without asking the one question everyone craves an answer to.

"You want to know how I got this scar?"

Jay cringes away from me, even as he bursts out into a fit of laughter.

"Damn, you didn't have to go all Joker on me."

Turning so I can face him, I swat at his shoulder to get him to stop laughing.

"You're alone with a girl in the dark and you're making Batman Jokes? You really are a nerd!"

"And proud of it!" he exclaims before getting a grip and sobering his expression. "But seriously, what happened?"

"Car wreck. I was driving Nora and Carter to a party and some jerk was drunk and swerving back and forth on the road like it was a game. I pulled over, but it didn't matter. He rammed into us head on."

"Jesus," he whispers. "That sucks."

"You're tellin' me. Steering wheel crushed my chest. Pretty well obliterated my heart, but I was lucky. I woke up with a new heart, Nora and Carter were fine, the guy driving the other car was fine. Everyone walked away."

"That's crazy. So, you're totally fine now? No problems?"

I take a deep, steadying breath. "Well, most transplant patients take a while to recuperate, but once they do, they're back at one-hundred percent. For some reason, I peaked at about seventy-five percent. The doctors couldn't tell me why, but it's bearable. Every now and then I get this faint, fluttery feeling in my chest, but it always goes away. It's just another reminder that I'm still alive. That I'm a survivor."

Jay reaches across the bench seat and takes my hand in his, brushing his thumb across my knuckles. The butterflies in my stomach are doing the conga, and it makes it increasingly hard to focus.