Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Luke led Ash to a beautiful cherry red pickup truck that shone in the low light.
The sun had begun to set, and beautiful pink painted the sky.
Ash should have expected, between Luke’s drawl and the flannel shirt and cowboy boots, that he drove a pickup truck, but for some reason, Ash hadn’t thought about it.
“Where are you taking me?” Ash still didn’t know where Luke was taking them.
A smile quirked up the corners of Luke’s lips. “It’s a surprise.”
After climbing into the truck, Luke handed Ash his phone, already open to Spotify. “Put on whatever music you like.”
Ash tentatively took the phone from Luke. “Are you sure? What kind of music do you like?”
Luke shrugged. “A little of everything. Lately, I’ve been listening to early 2000s pop punk throwbacks.”
Ash whipped their gaze to Luke so fast, they should have broken their neck. “I’m sorry, what?”
Luke shifted his gaze briefly to Ash before starting the truck and weaving out of the parking lot. “What?”
“You do not seem like someone who listens to pop punk."
Luke seemed to recoil at Ash’s words. “What kind of music do I look like I listen to?”
“Country,” Ash said with a laugh.
“Well, I do listen to country too,” Luke said. “I like a little bit of everything. Scroll through my liked songs.”
Ash wasted no time pulling up Luke’s list of liked songs and taking a quick scroll.
Even the first fifteen songs blended early 2000s alternative bands like All Time Low and country singers like Dolly Parton.
Ash couldn’t help the smile that spread across their lips—Luke was not what Ash had expected.
Hell, at first glance, Ash would have expected Luke to be straight.
But that was the problem with stereotypes—they were very often wrong.
Ash finally selected a Green Day song and set Luke’s phone in the cup holder.
“What music do you like?” Luke asked, sliding his gaze briefly over to Ash.
“I like pop punk.” Ash gestured to their outfit. They sported ripped black skinny jeans, a beat-up pair of Converse, and a faded Green Day t-shirt.
Luke rolled his eyes. “Yes, you do look like you listen to pop punk. But if you saw photos of me in high school, you would understand.”
That piqued Ash’s interest. “And what did you look like in high school?”
Luke let out a long breath. “I wore eyeliner to school.”
Ash shrugged. “So did I.”
“I bleached my hair to look more like Billie Joe Armstrong.”
“Same. Bleached hair looked horrible on me,” Ash said. They could picture Luke with the messy bleached hair look.
“I got an earring.”
Ash couldn’t hold back their laughter. “Now there’s a surprise. Why don’t you wear it anymore?”
“Before I went to college, my parents convinced me professors would decide my career, and that the way I looked made the biggest difference. So, I dyed my hair brown, took out the earrings, and changed my clothes to match those of my older brother better.” Luke looked down at his flannel.
“I don’t particularly gravitate toward the cowboy look, but it’s the only other thing I knew. ”
“Well, it works for you,” Ash said. “Actually, when we met, my friend even said you were a ‘sexy cowboy’.”
Ash smiled at the way Luke’s ears turned red with the compliment.
Luke pressed his lips together as he drove silently down the parkway.
A wave of guilt washed over Ash that maybe they took it too far.
Maybe they shouldn’t have said anything.
After last night, they thought Luke would appreciate the compliment.
“Well, you can tell your friend thank you,” Luke said with a sheepish smile.
The conversation died off briefly, and Ash took the silence to take in the passing buildings.
Leaving Ash’s apartment complex, Luke had turned left on Vestal Parkway, away from downtown Binghamton and towards the Walmart where Ash got their groceries.
Walmart was the farthest they had traveled down the parkway.
Past Walmart was a handful of non-descript buildings, and Ash had no idea where Luke was taking them.
That is, until nearly twenty minutes later, when Luke pulled the truck into a tight parking lot where smoke billowed out from open grills and smokers before a tiny shack with a peaked roof on the right.
A long, rectangular sign was nailed to the siding, reading “Big Dipper Barbecue.” Three picnic benches sat end to end beside the shack, where four people ate barbecue ribs.
To the left of the truck was a more modern building with a big, lit-up sign that read “Big Dipper Ice Cream.” Yellow stars littered the blue “Big Dipper”.
When Ash opened the door of the truck, they first had to confirm the people at the picnic benches weren’t anyone they knew. Ash’s heart dropped into their stomach, knowing they would be constantly looking over their shoulder to ensure they wouldn’t be caught.
Ash couldn’t fret for long, though, as they were immediately overwhelmed by the smell of barbecue.
The scent of smoked meat filled their senses, and it was divine.
They spied spatchcocked chickens being roasted on flat-top grills, and several large Traeger smokers with billowing white smoke that furled around the building.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Luke said, coming around to Ash’s left.
Ash nodded. “What’s good here?”
“Everything,” Luke said with a low laugh.
Luke led Ash to the counter, where an old sign that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the eighties hung over the window. A Pepsi logo split the two sides of the sign. Black letters were stuck onto it, displaying the different options and prices.
“What do you usually get?” Ash asked. “I’m torn between the brisket and ribs.”
“Do you want to split those two things?” Luke asked. “We can get a few sides too.”
Ash wasted no time agreeing. “As long as we can get cornbread.”
Luke approached the counter and ordered them a half rack of ribs, a brisket plate, cornbread, salt potatoes, macaroni, and potato salad. Before Luke could get his wallet out, Ash whipped out theirs and handed the cashier a twenty.
Luke looked at Ash incredulously, and Ash smiled at him as they spoke. “You can’t pay for our food every time we go out.”
“I asked you out. That means I’m supposed to pay.”
Ash laughed. “Oh, is that how it works?”
Luke and Ash grabbed their food and brought it to an unoccupied picnic table.
The food looked divine. Deep red barbecue sauce spilled over the ribs into a pool on the plate.
Thick slices of juicy brisket with a perfect bark and beautifully rendered fat sat beside a cup of barbecue sauce.
Small fingerling potatoes and two slices of fluffy cornbread shared a third plate with two small cups—one of macaroni salad and the other of potato salad.
The macaroni was covered in mayonnaise and dotted with minced bell peppers and onion.
The potato salad was slathered similarly but alongside dill, hard-boiled egg, and black pepper.
When Ash picked up one of the ribs, the meat slid off the bone into their hand.
They laughed, dropping it onto the plate and picking up a plastic fork.
They easily broke off a bite of meat and chewed it slowly.
Flavor exploded on their tongue; the sweet honey of the sauce paired beautifully with the light hint of smoke on the meat, which was then slowly replaced with a lingering spice.
The rib was perfectly cooked—tender and juicy.
Ash could tell their eyes lit up by the way Luke snickered.
“I told you it was good,” Luke said, scooping macaroni salad onto his spoon.
Once Ash finished the rib, they started on the brisket.
It was a perfect slice of brisket with fat marbled throughout and a bright red smoke ring.
They didn’t use the barbecue sauce on the first bite; Ash wanted to enjoy the taste of the smoke on the meat, and they were quickly rewarded.
The smoke didn’t overpower the taste of the meat.
The bark added a nice texture to it; this was some of the best smoked brisket Ash had ever eaten.
"Thank you for bringing me here,” Ash said. “Although I feel like I should be saying ‘fuck you’, because I’m going to want this every day now.”
Luke shook his head and laughed, that rumble from deep in his chest that made Ash want to reach out for him.
“I’m glad you like it so much. We’ll have to come back.”
Ash liked the thought of that. They enjoyed spending time with Luke, both in and out of the lab. In truth, they liked these moments the best, when they could learn who Luke was and what he wanted out of life.
“What do you hope to get out of your career?” Ash asked.
“I love research. I want to do research full-time, but that’s hard to find. Most universities want you to teach. Teaching isn’t my passion; it’s just something I have to do for my research.”
While Ash didn’t understand that, on a personal level, they could appreciate the sentiment of Luke’s words. “Why did you pick thyroid cancer?”
Luke cleared his throat and shifted his gaze from Ash’s face to just over their shoulder. “My dad passed from thyroid cancer when I was in high school. I was already drawn to science, but that was when I picked biology.”
Ash nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Ash reached across the table and grabbed Luke’s hand. “My cousin passed too. She was my best friend.”
“I’m sorry for you too.”