A short story, written on Valentine's day this year. I
soo get pity points for that...
Critique, comments, compliments...all are welcome. Hope you enjoy.
She looked over at him from the passenger's seat...he was looking ahead to the road and didn't notice her stare.
"This always happens,” she noted.
"What?" He questioned her...an annoyance in his voice, his eyes darting from the road for only a split second.
"This."
"You can't expect me to know what you're talking about...you can't"
"We’re always..." she stopped. He waited. She muttered:
"Silent."
He was in a no win situation. You see, women ask these questions-ones with no answers. He intended to ask his dad what he did in those spots. Maybe the old man would know. That’s the thing-he'd never seen love be anything but effortless or impossible and unrequited.
She exhaled through her nose, a quick breath as her eyes shot upwards. What she didn't think about is that no one could have seen them do that, but just the feeling of her eyes pressing up against the top of range made her feel like she'd won.
He gathered his words.
"Maybe. Maybe we..." he trailed off
"No." came the terse reply.
"I don't even know what I was going to say...how do you know it was no?"
He was angry, and he didn't even know why. He did know what he was going to say, and both of them knew it. But having his mind read, no, it was her answer. That, that, and he loved her.
"I know you-you think too much, and if you had to say maybe twice, you'd already over analyzed the situation...and don't say I’m not right...I know I am." Her voice had a hint of humor. All he had to do is pick up on that, and he would be all right.
"Alright...maybe you are"
"There’s that word again,” she teased back
"Enough already...I’m not always wrong you know..."
He started the sentence fine, but as he spoke he slowed. The pitch of his voice dropped just so, and the last word hung in the air as the car took the curve at 60 miles an hour. His foot had begun to press down on the gas pedal, as if subconsciously he believed that by the sheer power of the engine he could outrun his danger.
She looked away for the first time, smearing her lipstick as she bit her lip
After a pause, the trick is not to rush your first line. She always did that, and it always sounded like she was scared.
"No. Its not what I meant."
She looked back down as the last word jumped away from her.
They were at 80 now, the trees sliding past them in a sheet, like fabric fluttering in the wind.
"Okay."
A mile passed.
He kept trying to think of what to say, while part of his mind yelled that it was her turn to speak.
"Its just that I"
"What?" she interjected
"I..."
"What?" this time she was looking at him directly...he returned her eye contact for the first time, the night flying towards them, the headlights straining against the darkness.
"I think I love you"
Her face...her face. At that moment it said more than she'd ever said before.
Its too bad he didn't speak woman. He could have read in her face so much about how much she was taken a back, and how she'd never heard anything so plain.
"I” it was her turn to stammer.
"Its just...” words failed her
She tried again:
"Maybe"
He broke her off:
"There’s that word..."
"Yeah."
The car rounded a bend, and his eyes drew back to the road. Her eyes met the same spot: the very edge of the light on the pavement, some yards out. Both of them knew what had just happened. How could they not?
"Hey!"
Startled, he jerked:
"What?"
"You’ve been day dreaming again...haven't you"
Her tone was mischievous...something was wrong...he'd just said...
Damn! His mind cleared of its fog, and reassessed the situation.
"Yeah"
His voice was down, and she mistook the sadness in his voice for shame.
"Its alright"
With that, she turned to see the stars-she never saw the country much, and it reminded her of home. She didn't see what happened next.
As the car eased its way on to a straightaway, he turned to her, and gazed.
She was everything, calm, shining, and warm. Her hair fell just like her words, effortlessly in grace. She was close, just a step apart. Far enough, even in dreams.