Chapter 12 – Vale #2
“There’s a lot of fear built up inside me. There’s a lot of disappointment too. So, if I’m not Chatty Cathy, it’s not because I’m a child, it’s because I don’t want to give up any more power. I need all I have left.”
He’s waiting for me to continue. He looks curious and apologetic at the same time. His hand tightens into a fist at his hip. Why does he care if I hide away? It’s not like I’ll be around much longer. It’s not like anything I do will matter to him in the end.
“Gramps rarely lets me drive alone. He gave in tonight because of the meteor shower. I don’t think he wanted to, but for some reason he was willing to take a chance on me, to trust me.
I desperately want someone to have trust in me, to believe I’m capable of something.
I wanted to drive. You took that away by offering me a ride.
Now I can’t even prove I’m responsible enough to drive a car by myself.
“I know I’m quiet and I don’t join in with others. I push them away in fact. All I have at my disposal is the ability to prove myself through my own actions. I don’t mind proving myself capable, but I’m rarely given a chance to do so.”
Oliver grabs my hand without a word and leads me back to the Jeep.
He opens the door to the driver’s side and holds his hand out in invitation.
“All you had to do was ask me to let you drive. Trust works both ways. You want me to give you the benefit of the doubt, you want me to trust you, show me the same courtesy.” He turns on his heel and walks around to the passenger door, leaving me there dumbfounded.
Was it really that simple? Could I ask Oliver for what I wanted? Would he give it to me? There are some things I doubt he’d give me, but maybe I’ll have the courage to ask him for them one day.
He jumps up into the passenger seat, sliding the seat back and stretching his legs out in front of him before I can even think about getting in. He puts his seat belt on and has his phone out before I can move. I stare at him for a moment in awe.
Is Oliver a good man? Can I trust him? I desperately want to.
“You coming?” he asks but doesn’t look up at me. Instead, he starts playing some music.
The Jeep is pretty high off the ground, so I have to prop my foot on the step bar to get inside. I make it into the driver’s seat with very little grace but no mishaps.
The Jeep still idles as I adjust the seat.
Oliver is so tall it had to be all the way back.
When my feet finally reach the petals and the seat sits comfortably, I adjust the mirrors.
I fasten the seat belt over my lap. This is huge.
He’s letting me drive his car. He’s choosing to trust me.
It makes my heart skip a beat. I probably shouldn’t tell him that I’ve never driven an SUV. I’ll keep that little secret to myself.
Why am I so worried about him knowing me? I told him the truth last night and it turned out well. It turned out better than I could have imagined. Why do I fight it now?
“Thank you,” I say as I take a moment to look at him.
He looks up from his phone. I can hear bluesy music, barely audible through the speakers. He turns the phone over in his lap and the screen goes dark. “You’re welcome,” he says with a slight tilt of his lips, not exactly a smile. “You break it, you buy it though.”
I chuckle and turn back to the road ahead of me. For some reason it makes me aware of my future. Our future, Oliver’s and mine. Do we have a future together? He seems too bright, too beautiful to stay in Silver Springs for long.
I shake my head as I drop the emergency brake. I shift into Drive, and we take off a little too fast. When I spin the tires, he doesn’t say anything. This Jeep is faster than the Prius and the Mustang, which sometimes sputters to life like it’s half dead already and can’t be bothered.
Oliver’s seat is farther back now, so I can’t see him out of the corner of my eye. I place my hand on the shifter even though it’s not a manual. I keep wondering if he’s going to correct my hand position on the steering wheel, but he doesn’t.
He’s quiet when the song, “La Grange,” starts playing. I know they’re singing about a place in Texas, but I always pretend it’s Georgia. I love this song. I turn the music up without taking my left hand off the steering wheel. My left foot starts tapping. I forget about the world around me.
I start to sing the words here and there. For a moment, I’m worry free. I don’t think about Oliver sitting beside me. I don’t think about going home at the end of summer. I just exist in that suddenly peaceful bubble between us.
I turn into the entrance of the old quarry about ten minutes later.
I don’t slow down as I tap my foot, still singing familiar songs.
I’ve been there a hundred times. I know exactly where I’m going.
I finally press the brake when I see the turnoff to the left to go up the hill.
It levels off about two hundred feet before the drop-off, and that’s where I park.
I pull the emergency brake since it’s not completely level until you get to the top of the hill.
I press the button to shut off the engine, and the interior lights start to glow and the music stops.
The headlights light up the drop-off. The bluffs are made of stone, exposed by whoever ran the quarry fifty years ago. When they shut it down, they flooded it and took off. There are very few trees out here and at the top of the hill there’s a huge clearing.
Kids come up here to party. Gramps acts like it’s a new development, but it’s been going on for years. I’ve been with Kat to several parties here. I usually drive her home after, when she’s too drunk to drive, but we don’t tell him that.
“We’re here!” I say excitedly and look up through the windshield at the sky.
When the headlights turn off, the sky is dark. There’s been a slight breeze and the clouds have cleared. There’s very little light pollution out here. The houses nearby are at least a few miles away. They tend to be farms and not lit up, so this spot is absolutely perfect for stargazing.