Sparks

Chapter 21

“Oh, wait!” Scottie had taken two steps back toward the car when something occurred to her. “We should take a picture of us in front of the bridge before we leave.”

They returned to the wall of trolls, and Scottie pulled her phone from her pocket. “Could you?” She held it out to Willow. “Your arms are longer; you can get us and our rainbow trolls in the frame more easily.”

Instead of taking the phone, Willow hid her hands in her jacket pockets. “Oh, no. You should do it. I’m terrible at selfies.”

Scottie studied her.

Willow’s face, which had been so open and full of laughter earlier, now seemed as careful and reserved as it usually was at work. She was avoiding Scottie’s eyes.

Why was Willow acting as if Scottie had asked her to hold a rattlesnake? It was the second time she had refused to take her phone. What was up with that?

Suddenly, Willow was back to being unreadable, and Scottie hated it.

She wanted to reach over, nudge her gently, and ask what was going on.

But the tense set of Willow’s shoulders told her that was not a good idea, so she decided to let it go.

The last thing she wanted was to make Willow uncomfortable for any reason.

“Okay. I’ll take it. But fair warning: I might end up cutting off your head—in the non-murdery way, of course.”

It had been the right thing to say. Willow’s tense posture softened, and she stepped closer until their shoulders once again brushed, filling Scottie with warmth.

She flipped the camera around, raised her phone, and stretched her arm out as far as possible. “Ready? Okay, troll squad, say cheese!”

Willow leaned closer. “Cheese.”

“One more.” Scottie put on a dramatic expression, eyes wide, mouth forming an O as if a few dozen angry trolls had been chasing her through the forest.

Willow snorted but played along, putting on her best date-in-a-haunted-place face.

Scottie snapped another picture. “Perfect. If that doesn’t convince Barb that I’m ready to go on a date, nothing will.”

When Willow laughed, Scottie quickly took another photo before lowering the phone.

Side by side, they strolled down the narrow road, back toward the car.

A man walked toward them, a large black dog trotting beside him.

Scottie couldn’t help tensing, but only for a second. It’s leashed and not interested in you. She forced herself to relax.

Thankfully, the dog didn’t pay them any attention. Its ears were pricked, tail wagging, as it focused on something deeper in the forest.

Right before they passed the man and his dog, Willow moved around to Scottie’s other side without a word.

Scottie stared at her. “What was that?”

“You said you’re scared of dogs and that your body tenses up when you see one coming toward you,” Willow said quietly.

She had put herself between Scottie and the dog because she had remembered what Scottie had told her in the elevator! Scottie swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat.

“I thought maybe it would help.” Willow peered at her. “Does it?”

Not really—because now Willow was closer to the sharp canines, and the thought of the dog lunging at Willow was as scary as if it were attacking her. Still, the way Willow had tried to protect her was deeply touching.

“A little,” Scottie replied, her voice hoarse. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. If we come across a butterfly, you can be the one to rescue me.”

Scottie burst out laughing, startling the dog and making it bark.

She jumped and held back more laughter.

Clearly, Willow thought Scottie’s butch pride would take a hit because she had needed to be protected.

But truth be told, she didn’t mind—not when it was Willow doing the protecting.

Scottie wasn’t afraid to show her vulnerability in front of her because she sensed that Willow would still take her seriously, no matter what.

They were both smiling as they climbed into the Subaru.

Willow clicked her seat belt into place. “That was fun.”

Scottie looked at her. “Yeah?”

Willow nodded.

“Good.” She was glad Willow thought so. It shouldn’t matter because this was just a trial run, with no second date on the line. But she still wanted Willow to have a good time. Smiling, she put the key in the ignition and turned it.

A series of rapid clicks came from beneath the hood, but the engine refused to start.

Scottie’s smile faded. She tried again.

Click-click-click-click. The dashboard lights flickered weakly, then went dark. Not even a wheeze came from the engine.

Shit. Her car had never refused to start before. While it was nearly ten years old, it had always been reliable. Why did it have to happen now of all times? “You didn’t kidnap a troll when I wasn’t looking, did you?” Scottie asked to lighten the mood.

“No.” Willow’s features were tight with tension. “That sounded like it’s the battery, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Scottie sighed, popped the hood, and got out of the car.

Willow followed.

Scottie opened the hood, and they both peered into the engine bay.

No sign of corrosion on the battery. Scottie traced her fingers over the connections. Nothing seemed loose.

She closed the hood with a thump. “Looks like the battery is dead. We need someone to jump-start it.” She glanced toward where she had last seen the guy with the dog, but he was gone. “Who thought I would ever wish the guy with the dog back?”

Willow sank against the hood. “What now?”

“Now I summon a roadside troll.” Scottie pulled her phone from her pocket, grateful to see two solid bars of LTE service, and opened the AAA app. She hit Request Roadside Assistance, confirmed their location on a map, and chose battery issue from a list of options.

A few seconds later, a message popped up.

Scottie’s shoulders slumped. “AAA is sending help. But it’ll take them an hour and fifteen minutes to get here. By the time we make it back to the city, our brunch reservation will be gone. Heck, Screen Door might even be closed by then.” This wasn’t how she’d wanted their date…practice date…to go.

“I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time.

Scottie glanced at Willow. “Why are you apologizing? It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“Not like it’s yours either.”

“Yeah, but it’s my car, and I know you’re hungry, and—”

“Exactly. So come on.” Willow pulled open the passenger-side door and nodded toward Scottie’s side. “I’ll treat you to brunch.”

“You know it won’t start, right?”

“Trust me and get in.”

Scottie shrugged and got in.

~ ~ ~

“We really seem to be making a habit out of this.” Scottie gestured at the center console, where half the contents of Willow’s purse were spread out between them.

Willow nibbled on a slice of dried mango. “Well, it might not be chicken and waffles, but at least we’re not starving.”

“And we’re not stuck in an elevator.” Scottie popped a honey-roasted almond into her mouth. “That’s progress, right?”

Willow chuckled. “Right.”

Rays of sunlight drifted through the canopy above them, painting patterns on the dashboard.

They had left the doors slightly open, so pine-scented air and birdsong surrounded them, making it feel like a picnic in the forest.

Scottie leaned back against the driver’s seat and felt strangely at peace. She wasn’t even tempted to check the app for an update on the roadside technician’s arrival time. This wasn’t how she had thought their practice date would go, but she would take it.

She watched Willow wrestle with the wrapper of a granola bar. “No Oreos this time?” she asked with a teasing grin.

Willow pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh my God, how could I? Excuse my horrible oversight. I’ll make sure to rectify my grave mistake next time.”

“Please make sure you do, or I’ll have to report you to the dating adviser headquarters.” Then Scottie remembered that there wouldn’t be a next time. This was a one-off practice date only. But maybe, if they both had fun, they could hang out as friends sometime.

Willow broke the granola bar into two equal halves and held out one.

“Thanks.” Scottie took it. Her finger brushed Willow’s, and a spark of static electricity passed between them.

They both pulled back with a startled “ouch!”

Scottie rubbed her tingling fingertips together. “Wow. That keeps happening. You’re like a walking lightning rod!”

Willow shoved her hand beneath her thigh. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Scottie turned in the driver’s seat as much as she could to study her. “Hey, you know I was just teasing, right?”

Willow nodded but didn’t look at her.

Tapping her arm or knee to get her attention was probably not a good idea. “Willow? Look at me, please.”

Slowly, Willow turned her head and made eye contact.

“I was really only teasing,” Scottie said. “But—”

“I know. It’s fine.”

Scottie shook her head. “No, it’s obviously not. I can tell what I just said wasn’t merely a fun comment to you, so I won’t say it anymore, okay?”

Willow looked as startled as if she’d received a second jolt.

“If you ever want to talk about it and explain why that hurt you, I’d be happy to listen,” Scottie said softly. “But if you don’t, that’s okay too.” While she didn’t fully understand what was going on, she didn’t have to. She would do whatever was necessary to avoid hurting Willow again.

Willow stared through the windshield into the forest beyond. Finally, she said, “You dropped your half of the granola bar.”

Scottie peered into the gap between her seat and the center console but couldn’t see it. She’d have to fish it out later, but for now, she didn’t care. “That’s okay. At least it wasn’t an Oreo.”

That got her a twitch of a smile from Willow.

“I was bullied in high school,” she said after a while, her voice so quiet that Scottie barely heard it over the birdsong surrounding them.

“One of the things they called me was lightning rod. Because I was tall and thin, I guess, and because…” She curled her fingers into a fist. “They didn’t need much of a reason.

They just called me any mean thing that got a reaction out of me. ”

Scottie imagined a younger, even more vulnerable Willow being surrounded by half a dozen teens shouting mean nicknames at her. Every muscle in her body stiffened. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Couldn’t your parents or teachers do anything to stop the little assholes?”

Willow shook her head and glanced out the windshield again. “I never told them.”

“What?” Scottie asked, sharper than intended. She gentled her voice. “Why not?”

Willow shrugged. “I didn’t want to cause even more trouble.”

Even more? Scottie couldn’t imagine Willow as a troublemaker. “You weren’t the one causing trouble! They were!”

The hint of a smile returned to Willow’s face, and this time, it spread until it reached Willow’s eyes.

“Uh, why are you smiling?” Scottie rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand. “Do I have pieces of almonds or mango stuck to my face?”

“No. It’s just…funny to see you get so worked up about it, more than fifteen years after it happened.” Willow directed her gaze to the center console. “It’s kind of nice.”

Scottie’s cheeks went hot. Admittedly, she had harbored fantasies of kicking the asses of Willow’s bullies. “Well, yeah. If we ever run into one of them, let me know. I have some zip ties left. We could chain them to the dumpster behind a fish restaurant until they apologize.”

Then she realized that her statement included an assumption that they would keep spending time together. They both kept making references to future activities.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket before either of them could say anything.

Scottie pulled it out and checked the new message. “It’s an update from AAA. Our technician is now an hour away.”

Willow dug into her giant purse and pulled out a battered deck of UNO cards. “Just enough time to beat you at UNO.”

Scottie laughed. “You brought a deck of UNO cards to our practice date? Were you afraid we’d get stuck in an elevator again, or is that in the official dating adviser handbook?”

“Of course it is—right there on page twenty-two,” Willow shot back.

“Let me guess: right between ‘always bring snacks’ and ‘never admit to a geeky hobby unless they do it first’?”

Willow shuffled the worn cards. “No. Snacks are on page three, and regarding geeky hobbies, it says to own it with confidence.” She cleared the center console of snacks and dealt the cards with practiced flicks.

“All right. House rules: The Reverse card means the next person loses their turn, and if you forget to yell ‘uno,’ you lose a gummy bear.”