The Truth About That Summer

forty-nine

The breeze through the open window of Luke's truck is heavenly against my face, the setting sun casting a golden light into the cab. Sea air laces through my fingers as I watch the shore lazily pulling back into the sea, the remaining crowds on the sand beginning to pack their things.

By the time we reach the main road though, I'm unsettled by Luke's quiet mood.

"Did I..." I feel my face crumple as I reword my thoughts. "Is something wrong?"

Luke takes his eyes from the road to look at me, brows raised, as if he's surprised I've spoken.

"No," He shakes his head, adjusting his baseball cap and staring forward again.

But he doesn't say anything else.

"So...?" Where are the normal flirty comments, the typical Luke Henson smugness?

"So?" His repetition irritates me further.

"So I thought we had a nice day with Finn." I try another time, eyes flickering between tourists in line for ice cream on the side of the road and Luke.

Again, he looks at me and simply nods. "We did."

We turn onto the sandy-dirt road of Grams street, leaving the tourists behind, and my frustration bubbles over.

"So why the silent treatment now, then?"

Luke scoffs dismissively and my chin raises in response.

"The silent treatment." He shakes his head, pulling into Grams driveway easily. "No, Dyl. That's not it. I'm just trying to not set you off."

"Set me off?" I don't even remove my seatbelt, though he's put his truck in park, his headlights shining into our living room.

"Yeah," Luke's jaw clicks, the annoyance becoming more and more evident in his features. "That's usually how this goes with us, right? We take a couple steps forward, have a nice time, and then you snap back-"

Where is this coming from?

"I don't," I argue stubbornly but he keeps going.

"I start to feel like making we're making progress, maybe you don't hate me so much, hey, maybe you might even like me,"

I huff in protest.

"And then you go and remind me how little you actually think of me."

"That's not true." I argue, crossing my arms. It is. "I don't do that." I do.

"You don't?" Luke challenges. "Tell me, say things end tonight and we're fine. You'll go in your room and you'll think about it and you might even feel good about it." Luke's Adam's apple bobs in his throat, his eyes intent on my face. "But I bet the next time I see you, you're cold again. I bet I have to work twice as hard just to get you not to scowl at me, never mind smile, I bet-"

"Have you ever thought that maybe you deserve it?" Pushed in a corner, I snap, my voice sharp and mean, emotions bubbling out of me as stupid, irrational tears prick my eyes.

He looks like he's been slapped. I close my eyes tightly, knowing I've just proved his point.

"There it is." Luke licks his bottom lip and stares straight ahead. "Yeah Dylan, maybe I do. And I have you to make sure I never forget it."