Chapter Ten
After lunch, Amelia and I congregate in the little diner restroom. While taking turns washing our hands in the small white sink, I say, “I’m good to drive for a bit now.”
My sister nods, then dries her hands beneath the noisy air dryer, holding the thought until the sound stops. “Oh. It’s my turn to drive again now too.”
We pause, both realizing we should probably have a game plan before leaving this bathroom. “I could drive with Grady,” I suggest.
Amelia stares at me, not exactly thrilled with us having to choose what to do right now with the situation we’ve found ourselves in. She sighs and rolls her eyes, ever the martyr. “No, it’s fine, we can stay in the same cars.”
I take a step backward toward the door, happy with this result even if she isn’t. “Are you sure?”
She waves her hand. “Yeah, you and Declan probably want to keep flirting and talking about board games anyway.” She shakes her head as if thinking The things I do for my sister. “You owe me.”
I don’t like this approach. I didn’t ask her to do this. “Hey, I’ve said a million times this drive back home was supposed to be just the two of us.”
“It’s fine, really.”
Amelia pushes past me and out the bathroom door, where I spot Declan and Grady through the window already waiting for us outside. “They’re by the cars,” I tell my sister, and she leads the way out the front entrance.
It seems like the guys must’ve been having a similar discussion. “I can drive again,” Declan offers.
“It’s all right,” I say, stepping up toward the SUV. “Amelia and I already planned to drive next.”
Grady eagerly turns toward Amelia. “Does that mean you want to try the podcast I was telling you about? There’s a recent interview with that California congressperson I met. Their PR staffer has been doing some incredible work. I could probably connect you.”
There’s a glimmer to my sister’s expression that I can’t quite read. Not impressed, but not annoyed, either. Perhaps plain amusement? Yet she slides her weight to one hip and counters, “That’s not exactly the type of work I want to do with my communications degree.”
“Hey, it’s all networking,” Grady says.
Amelia reaches into her bag for the sedan’s keys. “You could also just take a nap.”
“Nah.” Grady walks around to the other side of our car, voice louder as he moves farther away from the group. “Passenger is supposed to entertain the driver on a road trip.”
“Except I’m more likely to fall asleep listening to you talk than listening to you snore,” Amelia says, waving goodbye to Declan and me as she opens the driver’s side door.
“Fair enough,” Grady agrees.
It’s nice and cool, with an overcast sky, which will make for good visibility on the road this afternoon, without the sun shining harshly in our eyeline.
Since we’re only really doing essential stops for food and gas, we’re making good time to get to the hotel tonight, though it’s likely we’ll be doing some driving after dark.
With our siblings back in the sedan, Declan leads the way over to the SUV. He holds the driver’s side door open for me to squeeze in since this was such a narrow parking job.
Scrunching up my nose at the unpleasant aroma, I say, “You basically parked in the dumpster.”
“You were there. You saw what I was working with. It was the only spot available.” He gently closes the door and walks around to the other side, settling into the seat beside me. “You good?”
I have to adjust the seat and the mirrors and the steering wheel, and it feels daunting.
“Huh. I’ve never driven a car this big before.
Actually, the only car I’ve ever driven is that one.
” I point to the sedan across the parking lot, where Amelia is reaching into the back seat to dig for something from her stuff.
“It’s really not that different.”
“Yeah, yeah. But, wow, really puts it into perspective what drivers are seeing when you walk through a crosswalk.”
“This isn’t even that big compared to a lot of trucks.”
“You’re right. All the more terrifying.” I adjust the mirrors one more time before I shift into drive and press my foot on the gas, accidentally lurching forward too quickly, right into the post of the rectangular metal parking lot sign with faded text about towing noncustomer vehicles that is two feet in front of us.
I slam on the brakes, which sends the SUV rocking back and forth.
“Shit.” I take a deep, steadying breath.
Declan lets out a nervous chuckle. “What are you, blind?” he playfully teases as I reverse and right course.
It was a little love tap to the signpost, with no obvious reason to get out to try to inspect for damage to the SUV, so it’s objectively amusing that I drove right into this sign.
Yet, when I don’t say anything, Declan continues joking in a lighthearted fashion. “What are we going to do with you? You already can’t hear.”
I let out a “ha,” my tone hollow, knowing for a fact that he doesn’t realize he’s just stabbed me right through my biggest insecurity.
Now what am I supposed to do? Get angry about a joke?
I stare straight ahead, driving incredibly slowly as I navigate out of the parking lot. It does take some adjustment to operate a different vehicle. “Sorry about that. Just need a second to get used to driving this. The way you parked, that was almost impossible to avoid.”
“Yeah…it was a really bad parking job on my part,” he admits.
I exhale, relieved to hear him say it wasn’t completely my mistake, but my fingers are still wrapped tight around the steering wheel, tension in my shoulders. “I knew it was your fault.”
My words must’ve come out harsher than I intended, because Declan is quick to add, “I’m just teasing.”
“Yeah, I’m joking too.” But I’m drained of enthusiasm for chatting. “Can you put on some music?”
Declan is eager to fix the mood somehow. “Sure, what do you want to listen to?”
“Whatever.” I’m having a difficult time disguising how I’m feeling.
Mostly because I don’t know what I’m feeling.
It was a funny accident. He made a joke most people would make, and have made often, and most people would probably find it funny. It’s not the first time I’ve heard this, and it won’t be the last. It’s all funny, sure. Lightly hitting the sign was unexpected and therefore sort of funny.
Right? Funny?
Okay, this is clearly grating on me. I need to get over it already.
I drive through the intersection and to the on-ramp, following my sister onto the highway, staring straight ahead, trying to keep my expression neutral. He said it as a joke, and I know it was a joke, and I’m not even that offended by it. Not really. Why would I be?
The problem is that there’s often truth hidden within a joke, and this incident has revealed that Declan would think differently about me if I also couldn’t see.
If my 25 percent odds play out.
Not only will I have to worry about readjusting to the world, I’ll have to worry about the rest of the world readjusting to me.
“Do you like this song?” Declan asks, though I don’t recognize it over the noise of the car on the highway and can’t discern the lyrics. Do I tell him that I can’t even hear the song he’s playing right now? I grit my teeth and stare at the road ahead, willing myself to keep it together.
To not make a big deal out of nothing.
“Yeah.” I nod along to the music, which seems to placate him.
“I’ll queue up some more,” he says before singing some of the lyrics out loud to me with a goofy puppy dog look in his eyes, having no idea that right now I’m in crisis.
Declan is sweet and silly and caring. I glance over with a soft, sad smile, one that he returns tenfold, still happily bopping along to this pop hit.
All this time with Declan, I’ve been thinking about the potential of him liking me.
But maybe potential is all this will ever be, because, unfortunately, real life has a tendency to fall short.
Even if he likes me now, he’s just admitted he might not like me then.
.....
After another song or two, Declan stops singing along, and we pass the next half hour without talking anymore.
Every minute that ticks by, negative thoughts burrow deeper into my brain, while the sights outside the window remain the exact same.
Cornfields stretching on for miles against the wide-open, cloudy blue sky.
Perhaps it’s soybeans, actually.
Because it’s only May, the crops have yet to grow into tall, towering stalks, and they’re hard to make out. With my incredibly limited agricultural knowledge, I have no idea what’s in those fields. A vast sea of the unknown. It makes perfect sense why that’s location fodder for horror.
It makes me picture a board game where you have to outrun a mouse through a corn maze.
Darn, I was trying my best to distract myself.
But board games take me right back to the boy sitting in the seat next to me.
“Declan?” I say, still without taking my eyes off the road.
His voice is warm and familiar, happy to be chatting again after some quiet time. “Iris?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
I brave a glance and discover there’s a smile curling up on his lips, but it dissipates when he notices that my knuckles are tightly gripping the steering wheel.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
His words from earlier still echo in my mind. What are we going to do with you?
Declan straightens his back, turning to face me. “You’re making me nervous.”
“No, don’t be nervous.” I wave my hand, unsure how to set the stage for this. Either I casually drop the information like it’s nothing or it somehow becomes a big sob story and the conversation will get away from me.
It hits me all at once why Amelia isn’t forthcoming with this information.
There’s no great way to deliver it.
“Um,” I say, my voice faltering. Declan reaches over and puts a hand on my arm, but I shrug him away. “No, really, um.” I’m glad to be behind the wheel rather than having to look at him right now. “You know those glasses Amelia wears while driving?”
“Yeah?”