Rory
She told them all not to stay out too late, and Jacob drove her home in his truck, holding her hand between them on the long
bench seat.
I get Nino’s for free. Also, I’m starving.”
“Me too, but I’ve got something better at home,” she replied.
The light turned green, and Jacob stepped on the gas. The truck lurched forward a couple of feet, then died. The car behind
them honked as it careened around. Rory’s heart pounded a mile a minute.
“What happened?”
“Don’t worry. This happens all the time. Hang on.”
He turned the key in the ignition again, and there was a wheezing sound like the engine was trying to start, but nothing happened.
“Come on, Rosie. You’re embarrassing me in front of my date,” Jacob muttered, trying again.
Again, nothing.
“I’m sorry . . . Rosie?” Rory said with a smile. “Did you name your truck?”
“You’ve gotta name your truck. Otherwise how are you going to sweet-talk her?” Jacob asked.
“I am learning so much about you tonight,” Rory said, shaking her head and pulling her coat more tightly around herself.
“You could help, you know. Instead of mocking me,” Jacob said as another car whizzed past on their right.
“Help you how?” Rory had a vision of herself getting out of the truck in her heels, popping the hood, and staring at an engine
she had no idea how to work.
“Say something nice to her!” Jacob said, like it was totally obvious.
Rory laughed. “Okay, fine.” She blew out a breath and gave herself a moment to gather her thoughts. “Rosie, it’s me, Rory,”
she said loudly, for some reason looking up at the ceiling of the cab. “Jacob and I are both really hungry, so it would be
super amazing if you would start now. Please? Thank you.”
Jacob smirked and turned the key again, and after a wheeze and a sputter, the truck roared to life. He gave it some gas while still in park, making the engine growl a couple of times. Rory squealed in delight.
“It worked!”
“See? She likes you. Nice job.” Jacob squeezed Rory’s shoulder, and as soon as the light turned green again, they were off.
Back at the house, Rory warmed up the autumn quiche she had planned to indulge in by herself while watching Stranger Things over from the beginning. Owen was sleeping at a friend’s house, and her parents were, of course, not home yet, so she and
Jacob decided to picnic in the living room and watch the first episode together. When she brought the steaming quiche in,
Jacob had cleared off the coffee table and put out the plates and forks. He’d also propped up pillows against the front of
the couch to make it comfier.
“That smells insane,” Jacob said.
She placed the quiche on a trivet and put the pie cutter down next to it, then slid in beside him on the floor. This dress
was going to need a serious dry cleaning and steam after this night. They had danced for hours, so she was sure it was sweaty,
and now it was going to be wrinkled up under her butt. As long as she didn’t drop egg down the front, though, it should be
okay.
“It’s the Gruyère,” she joked, nudging his shoulder with hers.
He smiled, and his face was so close to hers it made her chest hurt in the best possible way. “I’m becoming more cultured already, thanks to you. Stranger Things and unpronounceable French cheese.”
Rory, who had been reaching for the pie cutter, paused. “Hang on. Are you trying to tell me you’ve never seen Stranger Things?”
“Nope,” Jacob said nonchalantly as he unfolded a napkin and draped it across his lap.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Rory shifted a bit to face him better. “I am so glad I didn’t know that before now—that could’ve been such
a deal-breaker! How could you not have watched this show? People say Gilmore Girls is the best fall show, but I think you can’t beat the spooky vibes of Stranger Things.”
“It’s not my fault,” Jacob said. “My house is full of little kids. I can’t watch alien zombie serial killer anything, or I could scar them for life.” He reached for the pie cutter now, but then he also paused. “Wait. You said it could have been a deal-breaker. It’s not now?”
Rory blushed hard. She grabbed the pie cutter herself and sliced into the quiche to avoid looking him in the eye. “I mean . . .
no.”
“How come?” he asked, his voice a bit lower.
She extricated a slice of quiche and placed it on his plate. The scent got stronger, and her stomach grumbled. They both laughed
lightly, and now she did look at him.
“I guess because it’s too late,” she said quietly, lifting one shoulder. “I’m already too invested.”
Slowly, Jacob smiled. The sight of it just about melted her. “Yeah?” he said.
“Yeah.”