Speak Now

VIII

After my father's speech last night, I knew that James and I had to get our heads together but we'd never be able to do that while we each try to prop the other up. With that in mind, we'd made a pact to spend the day apart; if we could get through twenty-four hours-ish without depending on one another, I think we'll be ok going forward. That said, I was more than a little nervous to leave James behind. Thankfully, Dad said that he had some 'stuff' planned for them and that I could go and fulfil my MOH duties with Keira and Logan. 

What I didn't know when I agreed to go with them to see Father O'Leary is that Sam was also going to be coming along. When I saw him waiting at the bottom of the stairs, car keys in hand, and the soon-to-be bride and groom missing in action, I'll admit that my heart almost beat its way out of my chest. Yes, I'd resolved to stop being such a dick towards Sam but really, this was a step too far. Sharing a large house for the next few weeks was a walk in the park compared to a five-minute car ride to the church. It's not like I could fling myself out of a moving car in order to avoid him. 

"Logan and Keira got a head start on us," Sam announces when I finally reach the last step and pause. He looks up from his phone and stares at me, his eyes falling to my feet and slowly lingering upwards, taking in my outfit. I'd tried to dress appropriately for church but maybe I should rethink the boots. Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, Sam quickly said, "You look fine."

I frowned. "Fine?" I'm not sure why, but I was expecting something a little more complementary than just 'fine.' I didn't want him to think I looked fine; I wanted him to look at me and think, 'damn, I was stupid to let her go'. Feeling my shoulders slumping forward, I pull my hair from behind my ear, letting the strands shield the disappointment that was oh so obvious on my face. "We should go. I don't want to be late."

"Course," Sam says, totally oblivious to my upset. He steps aside and lets me walk ahead of him as I go out to the car and jump into the passenger side. When I close the door, however, I see that I'm not sitting where I thought I was. Instead, I'm positioned behind the wheel, feeling embarrassed. Instead of saying anything, Sam climbed in next to me and handed me the keys. "You can drive. I'm guessing this is an American habit, huh?"

"Yep." I pop the 'p' in irritation, more with myself than the fact Sam pointed out my mistake. 

Looking down to see what I'm working with, I internally groan when I notice the car is a stick shift. Of all the cars, why couldn't they pull an automatic out of the garage? Still, at least I know how to change gears. It would be embarrassing if I really didn't know how to drive this car. Turning the key in the ignition, I start the engine and swiftly head up the driveway, forking left just before we reach the junction that leads out of the estate. The church, I was told, was on the property for convenience purposes, and having done some Google mapping, I knew where I was headed. 

"I didn't mean it earlier," Sam speaks out of nowhere. I glance over at him as I change down into second gear for the upcoming corner, and frown. "When I said you looked fine. What I should have said was that you look beautiful but I feel like that would be overstepping the boundaries."