Southern Boy Charm | ✓

Chapter 9

This time, the car ride with Nick is much less tense. I can see it in his body language: leaning back against the seat, shoulders relaxed. The radio plays an upbeat country song, and he bops his head to it slightly. It would be impossible to detect if it wasn't for my inspecting gaze from the corner of my eye. While I love to watch him like this, happy and at peace, I don't think that I can handle a second more of this music.

"I'm changing the radio station," I declare, fiddling with the knob on the dashboard. "If I have to hear one more country song I'm going to be sick." He moves to stop me before hesitating, and surprisingly, letting it go. I expected some type of resistance from him. He's usually not the type to let me easily get my way.

"You don't listen to much country in Ohio I'm guessing."

I shake my head. "Not really. My friends prefer EDM music." In my opinion, the music was a little too loud and one could only listen to so many beat drops before it grew tired. But they liked it.

"Good thing I asked what music you like- not your friends."

I shrug my shoulder. "We're just really similar. We spend all our time together either at school or softball."

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "You play softball?"

I smile proudly. "Yes, I'm D1 actually. My mom wants me to go to Ohio State."

"And what do you want?"

"I just said it- Ohio State." He sends me a look, one that I know is full of judgement, but advises himself not to say anything.

"What?" I ask, my voice coming off as a whine, but he still refuses to answer. "Fine then, since you have all these questions, why don't you answer a few." I tease.

"You know, I think I'm good." I stick out my tongue at him, a gesture that surprises me. I haven't done that in forever. Something about Nick makes me feel like I'm a little kid again.

"Seems like some things never change." He laughs. "Now, explain to me who this guy in Ohio is."

How does he know about Jack? I didn't tell him, surely not. I've made an effort to make sure that he doesn't know. If he does, he won't let me here the end of it for the rest of the summer. And frankly, until lately, he hasn't really had anything nice to say.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, deciding to air on the side of denial.

"Bullshit. I went to high school with girls like you. You either spend high school dating some subpar guy or obsessing over one that you want to. So which one is it?" He pauses. "Plus, I heard you guys talking on the phone a couple times."

"So you've been spying on me?"

"Nope, I'm just observant. Now answer the question." I'd rather not. If I tell Nick anything about Jack he will just sprinkle his usual negativity on top of it. Instead, I deflect.

"How about you answer what is going on between you and Sammy. It must be something pretty big if you were willing to be nice to me just to make her jealous."

He surprisingly answers. "There's nothing going on with us. Well," he pauses, "not anymore." His confession takes me by surprise. So him and Sammy were something. "Now stop deflection and answer my question."

Jeez, he sure can be demanding. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm somewhere in the middle."

He laughs cruelly. "Not to burst you bubble, but you're never in the middle with a guy. Either he wants you or he doesn't."

I would explain it to him, but he wouldn't understand. What me and Jack has is special. He just isn't ready for a relationship right now. I just need a little more time to work on him before he comes around. "Well he would have, if I was able to spend summer with him, but I'm stuck here," I trail off, before realizing what I did. "It's not like I don't want to be here or anything." His body tenses and I cut my apology short, knowing that he already has shut me out. Just when things were going right, I had to mess it up in typical Leighton fashion.

"I'm sorry, it's just that a lot was riding on this summer," his face dropping kills me inside. "I've liked him for years, and it finally feels like he might want me back. I even heard that he wanted to ask me to my town's Summer Fling dance in August, but with me being so far I doubt that he'll even ask me anymore."

He pauses for a second before speaking softly. "Trust me, he'll ask you."

I raise my eyebrow at him. "And how would you know that."

He doesn't respond, and soon the only sound in the truck is the music from the Pop radio station. He's quiet, and it isn't until I turn towards the window that I hear his response. It is so faint, so quiet, that if I hadn't been paying attention I would have thought I made it up. But I know what I heard; I wouldn't be able to forget it if I tried.

Because as I looked out that window, focusing on the rolling landscape in front of me, I heard him whisper, the words delicate and sweet:

"I know because he would be stupid not to."