Authors: J.W. Phillips
“I don’t know how to be an ‘us’,” she stated
near tears.
“I don’t either.” He grabbed hold of both of
her hands. His grip was tight, but he traced her palm with all the
intense emotions flowing through him.
“You’ve dated tons of girls.”
“Dated yes, but I’m hoping we’ll be more.” He
wanted to smile, but he felt like he was throwing his soul out on
the ground for her to stomp on.
“More,” she reverberated as if it caused her
pain. He gently and steadily nodded his head.
“More,” he forcibly whispered, knowing what
more with him could cause.
Julie placed her hand on his chest. He looked
down at her in awe that she was so freely touching him. More than
anything it amazed him, no matter how much it hurt; he liked her
touch.
“Trucker, wait. I promise not to break your
heart, if you promise not to break mine.”
Left without words, he pulled her into his
body and wrapped his hand around her head, working his fingers
through her curls. She had no idea how impossible that statement
was on both accounts. He could never bring himself to ever hurt
her, and he had no heart to break.
Holding hands, she pulled him into her room.
It was a poorly remolded attic space. Paneling had been hammered to
the wall and painted off-white. She had a queen size mattress lying
on the floor with a small bedside table next to it. The bed was
perfectly made, with a homemade quilt and had a line of pillows, a
few flimsily made, propped against the back wall. Across from the
bed was a dresser and television. The north and south side of the
room held a row of windows. He tossed up the end of hideous blue
curtains.
“Do you like them?” Julie asked.
“Not really,” he snapped.
“I made them.” She informed him.
He turned around. Julie had her arms wrapped
around her and looked near tears.
“You sew?”
Julie nodded. “I use to all the time with my
granny.”
She had taken pride in her room. He could see
the homey touches she had scattered about.
Oh, my sweet angel, I
did it again. I hurt you.
“I don’t like them. I love them. Maybe you
can make some for my room,” he lied. The look she gave him didn’t
convince him she believed him. He hugged her. No, she didn’t belong
in his world, but he really didn’t belong in hers either. However,
her world was the only place he wanted to be. “Come on, my
beautiful.” Trucker motioned with his head to the door.
*******
Trucker strolled gracefully to the car with
his hand lightly placed at the small of Julie’s back. He hummed a
peppy tune, causing the whole day to hit home.
He’s really here
for me, and he likes it.
He opened the passenger door, holding
it for her.
“Nice ride,” she commented as she slipped
inside the car.
“You’re nicer,” he whispered.
He fingered her hair and breathed a statement
too low for her ears to comprehend as he softly shut the door.
Julie ran a finger over the slick dashboard, touching the screen
that displayed an impressive GPS and sound system, and watched him
walk with ease around the front of the car. She closed her eyes as
the fear enveloped her. How many times had she awoken in the middle
of the night dripping with sweat after dreaming about him? How many
times had the thought of his eyes kept her up all together? Now she
was here, in his car, going who knows where with him.
When he glided onto his seat, the aroma that
was only his startled her. The faint smell flooded her nostrils. It
was manly and musky. It was the most addictive drug, and she
couldn’t stop breathing it in. He glanced at her, raised one
eyebrow, and gave her an unbelievable radiant smile.
“What’s wrong, Angel?” He reached over and
squeezed her knee.
The uniqueness of his aroma plus the heat
pouring off his body was an instant comfort. The calmness in the
pit of her stomach let her know that was where she belonged.
“Nothing’s wrong.” She smiled. “Just admiring
your car.”
“Glad you like it,” he answered, coy.
She rubbed her fingers along the dash again
and turned the knobs on the radio.
“It’s not the normal car for Promise Land,”
she replied. Julie let her head fall back to rest against the seat
and took a deep breath.
“I know,” he said as he shrugged his
shoulder. That statement seemed to bother him. “But we’re not the
normal family either.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“You look good in it,” he added.
She couldn’t answer him. She didn't feel like
she really belonged anywhere, let alone with
him
. But then
again his car didn't fit into this town, so maybe she did.
“What kind of car is this?” she asked, still
pondering his expression.
“A Jag XKR,” he stated almost nonchalant.
“That’s a cute habit.” He eyed her nail biting.
She didn’t even realize she was doing it. “My
mom hates it.” Julie answered, slapping her hands in her lap.
“I think it’s adorable, but if mom hates it .
. . we could always put some fake nails on you. That cured my mom.”
He shook his head. “Naw, I like you the way you are.”
She could feel the heat in her cheeks and
knew the redness was soon to follow. He reached over and stroked
the back of his finger down her cheekbone.
Julie started digging around in her purse for
some change. Nerves had left her mouth dry and her throat
parched.
“What are you doing?” Trucker asked as she
dropped some quarters in her lap.
“Oh, I’m thirsty. I was seeing if I had any
money for a drink.”
Trucker reached over and lightly pushed a
loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you really think so little
of me?”
“What?” Her face twisted in confusion. She
was startled that he would ask such a question.
“Angel, there is no way I would let you buy
your own drink.” He leaned across the car, bringing his face close
to hers. His breath washed over her, flooding her mind with his
particular smell. “The least I would do is buy you a drink. I want
to
give
you the world.”
A lump formed suddenly in her throat. Her
heart pounded in her chest.
I don’t want the world. Just a good
guy to treat me right would mean the world to me.
Trucker drove in silence for the longest
time. Julie wasn’t sure what was going on in his head. His hand
never let up his grip on hers, but he never acknowledged her
either. He suddenly flipped the car around and headed to Robert’s
Service Station, the local mom and pop convenience store.
“Come on, beautiful. You’re thirsty.”
Oh, how he switched from one mood to the next
so quickly. Mr. Mercurial and his moods could give a good person
whiplash
Trucker was at her side of the car, opening
the door for her. His movements at times were so fast and swift
that they dumbfounded her.
Julie halted when she enter the store and saw
Courtney working the counter. It was her grandparent’s store, and
she managed the cash register occasionally. Julie couldn’t help but
wonder if Trucker was bringing her there to tease Courtney.
Courtney seemed to not even notice Julie was
even there as her face lit up when her eyes met Trucker’s. She
leaned across the counter, rubbed the edge, and gave Trucker a soft
little giggle accented with a wink.
“Hello, gorgeous, what did I do to deserve
this privilege?” Courtney asked. She raised an eyebrow and licked
her lips, leaving no doubt that she wanted him.
Trucker grunted. With their backs to the
counter, he played with Julie’s ear, letting his fingers trail down
her neck and land on her shoulder. He pulled her close to his side
as Courtney let out an audible gasp.
Smiling a little too big, Julie grabbed an
orange juice out of the cooler. Trucker stood there and examined
the drinks. He acted as if he had no idea what to get. He finally
reached for a soft drink and tossed it in the air, easily catching
it.
“That’s going to spew.” She said.
“Huh?” he asked, and gave his head a quick
shake.
“Go everywhere when you open it,” she
answered with a slight wave of her hands.
“Oh, yeah,” he said and gave her one of his
heart-stopping smirks.
“Look who the cat dragged in, if it isn’t
Julie Emison. How are you doing?” Ms. Tona, the owner, asked. She
was sitting in the center of the store in her recliner, surveying
the customers.
“Hey, Ms. Tona, I’m doing great. How are
things going? I see your hip is doing better.” Julie reluctantly
walked over to Tona, pulling Trucker with her.
“Yeah, I should’ve listen to your grandma and
had this hip replaced five years ago.”
Julie turned back to Trucker and gripped his
elbow. She wanted to soothe the deep crease that has formed between
his eyebrows with the pad of her thumbs but something in his eyes
made her feel uneasy. “Truck, this is Ms. Tona, Courtney’s
grandmother and my grandma’s best friend. She owns the place.”
“Oh yeah, you’re the new boy Courtney keeps
carrying on about.”
Trucker groaned and rolled his eyes. Between
the look he was giving Tona and the feeling of
restlessness Trucker was exuding, Julie wanted to make a quick
exit. “Ms. Tona, it’s great seeing you, but I really need to get
home.” Julie bent down and kissed her cheek.
“Bye, sweetie, tell your mom and dad hello
for me.”
“I will.” Julie turned on her heel and didn’t
even look to see if Trucker was following.
“So have you known Courtney like forever?”
Trucker whispered in her ear.
“Yeah, she has been torturing me since they
placed us in the same playpen. You know the popular cheerleader
versus the geeky want-to-be scenario,” Julie joked. She was smiling
but noticed a flash of aggravation cross Trucker’s face.
“You’re no geeky, want-to-be,” he whispered
as he slammed his drink on the counter.
Courtney smiled and ‘accidentally’ scraped
her knee up against Trucker’s legs, but to Julie’s relief Courtney
appeared invisible to him. Even more, Courtney’s touches seemed to
pain him instead of gain her any attention. Nevertheless, Courtney
had her hands on her hips and a look of determination on her
face.
“That would be three twenty-five, babe.”
Courtney said with a wink.
Trucker tossed a five at her. “I’m not your
babe,” Trucker stated.
Julie could see his temper flair at her
unwelcome advances. Courtney handed him his change and with a small
snort, she jerked her shoulder, turning to walk away.
Climbing into his car, he sat his cola in a
cup holder and shifted his body in her direction.
“I’m sorry, Angel. I had no idea that she
would be in there.” His brooding eyes burnt through her.
“It’s okay. You couldn't have known she'd be
there. Plus, you’re pretty impressive.” Julie clasped her hands
together and started twisting and untwisting her fingers.
“You think I’m impressive?”
“Very,” she answered, biting down on her nail
bed, bringing a drop of blood to the surface. Trucker tapped his
finger across her nail, capturing the blood droplet. She swore she
saw him taste it, but his movement was so fast she couldn’t be
sure.
“Do I impress you?”
“Yes,” she barely managed to say. He let out
a soft chuckle when her voice cracked.
“That’s all that matters.” He stretched his
arm out and placed his hand around hers. The warmth coming off his
skin was shocking. Although a sinister look was still alive and
well in his eyes, she'd never felt safer.
They rode down every back road in the county.
He quoted poetry and questioned her about every small detail of her
boring and predictable life.
“Why do you do it? Why are you so pure?” he
asked, cutting his eyes over toward her. His voice was smooth but
rough at the same time.
Taking in a deep breath, she answered. “It's
just how I am. I don't want to hurt my parents.”
He nodded and considered her a moment before
asking, “But why do you care?”
“Huh?”
“Why do you care if you hurt your
parents?”
“Hurting them would hurt me.”
He paused as if sensing her discomfort. “I’m
glad you’re made that way. I think you’re very special,” he said
quietly, fidgeting with the air conditioner. He grinned and ran his
hand absent-mindedly through his dark hair.
“Tell me more about you. What do you do for
fun? Tell me what makes Julie tick?”
As if he put her in a trance, she started
spurting off endless facts about herself. “My favorite color is
blue. I love daylilies and how they grow wild on the side of the
road. I’ve watched
Arsenic and Old Lace
hundreds of times
with my granny. I like to eat potato chips with ice cream.”
Julie went on for the longest time telling
him about herself. She couldn’t ever remember talking about herself
so much. She was certain she was boring him, and then she would get
a glance at his face to see absolute absorption in what she was
saying, so she continued. She told him all about her family, about
her parents, about her grandmother that passed away the year
before. They talked about school and their favorite subjects. The
more she talked the happier he seemed to get.
“So we’re going to the movies?” he said,
suddenly.
Oh crap, I forgot I told my mom that. I hope
he knows I don’t expect him to tag along. I doubt he truly wants to
spend time with my friends and me. Heck, I find it hard to believe
he still wants to spend time with just me. Furthermore, the closest
theater is in Franklin and that is a good thirty minutes away.
Though I wouldn’t mind being locked in a car with him for that
long.
“Julie.” He snapped his fingers.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “You don’t have to. I
promised them I would early in the week. It’s in Franklin. I know
that is too far to drive, it’s okay.”