Chapter 35
Tate
“That was fun, thank you.”
The bag below my feet crinkles, the treasures inside seemingly coming to life at mention. The antique shop was stacked with so many interesting things. After over an hour in there, I’m still convinced I didn’t see everything.
Levi hums in agreement. “Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for spending the day with me.”
I smile, studying him. The way he sits back a bit when he drives, one arm on the wheel.
He lost the jacket about midday and in its place was a baseball jersey.
Its boyish charm teases another side to him.
He’s relaxed here. I want to ask him about the show.
About Gabriella, and about how Clay took being sent home.
I wanted to reach out to him but didn’t know what to say.
“What’s on your mind, Tate?” he asks, taking the turn back towards Nashville.
“Why do you say that?”
He glances over. “You always make that face when you’re thinking.”
“What face?! I do not make a face.” I laugh.
“You do.” His voice is assured. “Your brows tug together until there’s a slight crease at the center.” He reaches his free hand over and with his pointer finger taps once between my brows.
“Someone’s been watching me closely.” I smile at him, leaning back into the crack between the seat and the door. He doesn’t confirm or deny my accusation, but light dances in his eyes.
“Are you going to tell me?” His eyes track to mine for a minute before flipping back to the road.
“It’s just been a minute. I was wondering about the show.
Clay, Gabriella, Kim, Jan... It’s hard to live with the same people every day for over a month and then, poof, never talk to or see the same people again.
Albeit, by my own design and timing. It’s just weird.
” For a minute the sound of the road and the murmur of the radio are the only sounds heard, and just when I think he’s not going to respond at all, he speaks.
“It hasn’t been the same without you. I’m not saying that because I —” He stops and starts again.
“Clay got voted off the week before Christmas break. He was upset, in a Clay-like way. We were all upset. I texted him once to see how he was doing. Last I heard, he proposed to his girlfriend and they’re planning a summer wedding. He invited me to attend.”
I’m nodding, all of this corroborates the Instagram stories I saw.
“Wanna go with me? I know it’s not for a while, but—”
“I’d love to!” I cut him off. He reaches over to squeeze my hand, a small, satisfied smile rolling out over his face.
“Okay, and Gabriella?”
She’s a pain in the butt, and it feels weird to know she took my place, so to speak, but we had some good times. We were friends.
He blows out a big reserve of air, taking his hand back to scrub his face. “Gabby’s a nice girl but is also so much work.”
“Did you just call her Gabby?”
“Yep. I told her if I’m going to call her more than one time a day, and she doesn’t want to be called babe, I’m shortening her name.”
I don’t know why hearing him consider calling Gabriella “babe” feels like a rock in my stomach, but it does. Heavy and sharp, indigestible.
“Haven’t seen much of Kim, and Jan hasn’t responded after my text this morning,” he continues.
“What was your text?”
“She wanted to send Gabby here to fix our ‘PR stunt’ last night. Her words not mine. I said no.”
“Oh.”
“I also told her I’m done playing her game and if that means I lose, I lose.”
“Wait! What! Levi! What about everything you worked for? What about the plan?” I reach over with intentions of squeezing his arm, but my hand looks like a child’s over his bicep.
“Plans change and I’m no one’s monkey. I’ll figure it out, I always do.”
“You will,” I affirm. “Well, that’s great. Where are we off to now?” Signs of Nashville approaching pepper the road, so I know we’re getting closer to the city.
“Tim and your sister said they wanted to meet for dinner at a new bowling alley...but I wanted to ask you before confirming.”
Dang, I totally forgot about my sister. “Has she been with him all day?”
Levi glances over. “Yeah, I think so. But, Tate, you don’t have to worry. Tim’s a good guy. One of my best friends.”
“I’m not worried. It’s just that...Callie tends to be whimsical. She loves love more than anyone I know and is always blindsided when it ends.”
Levi's eyes grow wide. “Love? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”
“I know, I know. She’s a love-at-first-sight, serendipitous type. Convinced that God has this one person made just for her...” I look out the window at the rolling pastures. The sky growls overhead. There was talk of snow, and I was hopeful, but nothing yet.
“What do you believe?” he asks, glancing over. His face is no longer carefree. There’s a heaviness. Undetectable to most.
“About what?”
He tilts his head to his shoulder, eyes still on the road. “About love...and God?”
“I guess I believe in both. Just not in the way she does. I don’t think good things just happen or you fall into your purpose. You have to be the one taking the next indicated steps, no matter how uncomfortable, foreign, or scary that might be.”
“Hmm, so...” He presses a palm over his mouth for a minute. “You believe in God.” He looks at me. Waiting for an answer.
“Of course. Don’t you?”
Everything about his face is pinched. The longer he doesn’t answer the more air escapes from the cab.
“No, Tate. I don’t.”