Authors: Jasinda Wilder
“Jason? How did you get my number, and why are you calling me?” I couldn’t help sounding a little bitchy; I’d been in love with Jason Dorsey since we were in fourth grade and he punched Danny Morelli in the nose for making fun of my stutter. I’d been in love with Jason Dorsey since forever, but he didn’t even know I existed, except as Nell’s awkward friend.
I might have been a little angry at Jason, just in general.
“Well, I…you see…” He sounded unlike himself, meaning he sounded hesitant and not at all his cocky, arrogant self. “Um, god, I’m making a mess of this.”
“I do not even know what it is you are making a mess of, Jason. Just say what you called me to say.” I was nervous and trying not to be a bitch, so I sounded formal and stilted from my effort to not stutter.
“Okay, it’s like this. You know how I asked Nell out today?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the thing is, the date never happened.”
“So I surmised from the fact that you are speaking to me instead of Nell.” I just couldn’t figure out what he wanted. Why was he calling me?
“Well, she’s with Kyle. I think they’re, like, together.”
I couldn’t have been more shocked if I tried. “But she agreed to a date with you. I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, me, either. I showed up at her house to pick her up, and she wasn’t there. She called me from Kyle’s phone and cancelled the date.”
“You mean she wanted to do it another time.” Why would Nell agree to a date with Jason if she was with Kyle? And since when was she with Kyle? Nothing made sense. And I still didn’t know why Jason was calling
me
about this, of all people. We were hardly friends.
“No,” Jason said, sounding obviously frustrated. “I mean, she told me it wouldn’t work out, meaning
ever
.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I know you liked her a lot.” I didn’t know what else to say. All through elementary school, junior high, and high school, I’d wanted Jason to see me, to pay attention to me, but all he could see was Nell.
“God, does
everyone
know? I didn’t realize it was that obvious.” He sounded irritated.
I couldn’t help laughing. “It is kind of obvious, Jason, yes. You’ve had a crush on her for a very long time. Anyone who knows you and her both can see it.”
“Except her.”
“Yes, except her,” I agreed. “Again, what does this have to do with me?”
A long silence from the other end of the conversation announced to me that Jason was clearly uncomfortable or nervous about whatever he’d called me to say.
“I—well, I have reservations at Bravo,” he said, “and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”
The penny dropped, finally. “Y-you what? Oh, hell n-no, Jason! You did not just-just ask me out as Nell’s sloppy se-seconds! Ugh!” I groaned in anger, at Jason for both insulting me like he just had, and for making me so angry I had reverted to incoherent stuttering.
“No, Becca, it’s not like that, I promise!”
I took several deep breaths and focused on forming my words clearly. “Please explain your reasoning to me, Jason. I am afraid I do not see how you arrived at your conclusion that this was a good idea.”
Jason moaned, a distant, muffled sound as if he’d buried his face in his hand with the phone held away from his face. “Listen, Becca. This wasn’t even my idea. None of it.”
“Well, that absolutely helps me feel better about this. Do continue.”
Jason laughed. “God, Becca. You’re funny when you’re pissed.”
“I’m funny all the time. You just never knew until now.”
He laughed again, which wasn’t helping my attempts to stay mad. “See? Funny. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you are funny all the time, and I just never knew. Give me a chance to find out.”
“Why? Do you even understand how insulting this is?” I spoke in a mocking deep voice. “‘Oh, hi, I got dumped and you’re my consolation prize.’ Wow, Jason. I’d be so
honored
. Or not.”
“I thought you were going to give me a chance to explain?” Jason asked.
“Okay, fine. Go.”
“I’m in your subdivision already, so how about you tell me which house is yours, and I’ll pick you up. I’ll explain the whole sordid affair over dinner.”
“Wow, you used a big word, Jason. Good job.”
He sounded a little hurt, actually, and I felt a twinge of guilt. “Damn, Becca. That wasn’t cool. Not all jocks are dumb, you know.” He paused and then continued. “Besides, sordid isn’t that big of a word. Anyway, come on. I know how this seems, but it’s not like you’re thinking, really. Give me a shot. Please?”
I laughed despite myself. “Fine. Give me a few minutes to check with my parents. And stay where you are.”
He sounded confused but agreed. “Sure, okay. See you in a minute. I’m sitting in the entrance to the Harris Lake Estates.”
“I’m not sure I want to know how you know where I live.”
He chuckled. “I gave Jill a ride home after school one day, and she mentioned that you live in the same neighborhood. Nothing…
disreputable
going on.”
I laughed again. “I’m hanging up.”
“Fine. I was done talking to you anyway.” He laughed and hung up before I could.
Now came the tricky part: lying to my parents. They’d never in a million years let me go to dinner with a boy, any boy, much less one neither they nor I knew. Jason and I had grown up together, gone to the same schools, been in a lot of the same classes together, but I didn’t really
know
him.
I stuffed my journal in my purse along with my cell phone and skipped down the stairs. My parents were sitting at the dining room table, arguing in a complicated mixture of English, Arabic, and Italian. “I’m going out with Nell.”
My father looked up, a lifted eyebrow stopping me in my tracks. “You have finished all of your homework?”
I nodded. “Yes, Father.”
He dipped his chin in a shallow, regal nod. “Very well. Check in at ten.”
“I will.
Grazie
.”
I slipped out the front door, checking my purse for my keys before I left. If I dared come home past curfew, he’d lock the doors whether I had a key or not. I had my driver’s license, but Father wouldn’t allow me a car until my junior year, provided I kept a 4.0 GPA through the rest of this year, at which point he would buy me a car. I’d honestly rather buy my own, but that wasn’t allowed, either. I couldn’t get a job, because it would distract me from my studies.
I hated being dependent on my parents, but I had no choice.
Nell and I often met at the intersection, since if there were boys in the car and they picked me up from my house, my father would have an aneurism. Even if it was harmless, just friends all hanging out, he would lose his mind. I’d gotten good at deceiving him when it came to hanging out with Nell and Jill—which meant Kyle and Jill’s boyfriend Nick—and often Jason as well. We’d go to the mall and hang out, and when it came time to check in, I would make sure it seemed like I was alone with Nell and Jill. This date with Jason would be trickier, though.
I decided I’d handle the check-in call later. For now, I had to get my nerves under control. I only lived half a block from the entrance to my subdivision, so it wasn’t a long walk, but I saw Jason’s truck sitting at the side of the road, and Jason’s spiky blond hair and tanned skin, and the walk suddenly seemed endless. Every step echoed in my ears, hammering like thunder. Each step seemed to make every bit of me shiver and jiggle, and I wondered if he would think I was overweight. I knew I wasn’t, logically. I was short and well-endowed, but I was in shape and ate well. I knew it, and most of the time I was fine with how I looked. But every once in a while, usually around Jason, I’d feel self-conscious about my shape. I knew he was attracted to Nell, which made me wonder if he’d ever even see me, since I looked nothing like Nell. I was shorter than she was, heavier than she was. I had dark skin and dark hair. Nell was tall and slender and had pale skin and perfect blonde hair. Nell was energetic and talkative and popular and confident, and I was…not. I was quiet, and shy, and I stuttered.
God, I knew I was going to stutter around Jason. I just knew it. He’d make me nervous or excited, and I’d forget myself and start stuttering. I was already nervous, and I wasn’t even within ten feet of Jason. I took several deep breaths and tried to call up my ire at his nerve. He still owed me a hell of an explanation, but I knew I’d let it go after a while. I’d give him shit about it, but I’d forgive him. Eventually.
I approached his black pickup truck and smoothed the front of my gray cotton skirt. Jason jumped out of his truck and circled around to open my door for me; points to Jason for manners. He didn’t speak until he’d swung the truck around the short boulevard at the entrance and out onto the main road.
“So,” I said. “Explain.”
Jason just grinned at me and turned on the radio, tuning it to a country station. I grimaced and changed it, but Jason frowned at me, tuning it back. “I like that song.”
I glared at him. “I hate country music.”
“Have you ever really listened to it?” he asked.
I sighed and shook my head. “No, not really,” I admitted.
He turned the volume up so the music filled the car as a new song came on. “Listen to this song. It’s one of my favorites. It tells such an amazing story.”
I closed my eyes and focused on the words…
Eighty-nine cents in the ashtray, half-empty bottle of Gatorade
…I was hooked immediately by the simple, vivid imagery. I lost myself in the song. Every line, every verse, and every repetition of the chorus was sung with wrenching emotion.
I drive your truck
…god. It hit so hard. I didn’t know why, because I’d never lost anyone the way the singer had, but I felt the song so poignantly.
When it ended, Jason clicked the stereo off. “So? What’d you think?”
“Who was that singing?” I asked.
“Lee Brice. The song is called ‘I Drive Your Truck,’ if you couldn’t tell from the chorus.” He grinned at me. “So was I right?”
I nodded. “Yes. You were right. That is a very touching song. It wasn’t so twangy like I thought it’d be.”
He laughed. “You’re thinking of the older style of country. The stuff coming out these days isn’t all like that, it’s more like country-influenced rock, I guess you could call it. I like country music because it’s…I don’t know. It’s about stuff. Most of the songs tell a story, or deal with something you can grab on to, you know? Something you can understand. I mean that song, obviously it’s about a guy who lost a close friend or a brother or his dad or something. It’s right there in the lyrics.”
“The lyrics were very poetic.” I smiled at him. “Play something else for me.”
He grinned and turned the radio back on. He listened for a few beats and then nodded. “This is another good one.” Glancing at me, Jason pointed in my direction as if dedicating a performance to me. “This one’s for you, Becca.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re weird.”
He cranked it up and shouted over the guitars. “I’m dedicating it to you! Listen up!”
He rolled the windows down and stuck his hand out, bobbing his head with the music and slapping the side of the truck with his palm in time with the beat. It had the same feel, the music in the background to the singer’s voice. It was more pop-influenced, I thought, and the singer had less of a country accent, but it was still definitely a country song. Then I started paying attention to the lyrics, in which the singer told the subject of the song, a woman, that she didn’t have to do all sorts of sweet and sexy things, but it sure would be cool if she did. It was a cleverly written song, romantic and heartfelt.
When the song ended, Jason turned the volume down a bit as another song came on. “Like that one? That was ‘Sure Be Cool If You Did’ by Blake Shelton.”
“Isn’t that the guy on that TV show?
X-factor
or
The Voice
or something?”
“Yeah. He’s on
The Voice.
”
I glared at him. “Why would you dedicate that song to me, anyway?”
He blushed and looked away, glancing at me sideways as he drove. “I don’t know. I just did. It seemed…fitting, I guess. For you and me, out on a date?”
I sighed. “You still haven’t explained anything to me.”
He rolled his eyes and rubbed the side of his face. “I know, I know. I just…you’re out with me now, and I’m having fun. Why ruin it with serious talk?”
I gave him a
really?
kind of look. “Because the only reason I agreed to come out with you is because you promised to explain.”
“Fine.” He turned the radio down. “It’s like this. Apparently every single person in the whole damn town knows I had a crush on Nell.” I noticed his use of the past tense, but I didn’t interrupt. “Well, at practice yesterday the guys were making fun of me about it.”
“That’s not very nice. Aren’t they supposed to be your teammates?”
He stared at me as if I’d said something he didn’t understand. “They
are
my teammates. It’s a guy thing, I guess. We give each other shit. It’s just…it’s just what you do.” He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to ask a question. “I thought you wanted me to explain? Then shut up for a second. They were giving me shit about having had a crush on Nell for my whole life but never doing anything about it. So, yeah. Frankie and Malcolm each bet me a hundred dollars that I wouldn’t ask Nell out the next day. Well, you can’t turn down a bet like that, so I asked her out. I mean, I wanted to anyway, but this way I got money in the process.”
“So would you have asked her out had your friends not made that bet with you?”
Jason didn’t answer right away. “Probably not.”
“Why not?”
He sighed. “It’s scary, you know? I mean, asking someone out is scary enough as it is, but…when you’ve liked the person from a distance for so long, and they never even knew? It’s terrifying.”