The Survivor (Book #2)

Chapter 25

"Are you okay with getting food, or do you need to get home immediately?" he asked once we were out of the neighborhood and back on a familiar road. He seemed so anxious that I felt an odd desire to comfort him.

"It's okay. We can get food if that's okay with you?" I asked, unsure. I didn't know what of this interaction was in it for him, but I was grateful.

 "Perfect." He flipped on his turn signal to begin heading to a location he had in mind. 

He was wearing a button-up shirt, per usual, but he had a leather jacket over it that tightened around his muscles. I watched his arm bend slightly as he turned the wheel, but it looked more like a branch forced to move from wind than a limb. His muscles were stiff, but I didn't know why. Fear? Focus? He caught me looking at him, so I turned my body so that I was looking at the road instead. 

"I'm assuming you don't want me to ask any questions." He stated in a serious voice.

I considered what his questions might be, and what answers I would have to invent to reply without frightening him.

"What kind of questions?" I asked, hoping that I was coming off as mysterious in a flirty way and not just scaring him off.

"Questions like... why aren't you wearing shoes?" he proposed, smirking a little. We stopped at a red light and he gave his full attention to me. I tried not to be shy and to hold his gaze.

"I left them at home. Next question." I said with a bob of my head.

"Who were you yelling at?" he asked futilely.

"Ooh, hard pass on that one." I grinned. The light turned green and he swiveled to face the road, but his eyes kept flickering to me. 

"Hmm... what about, do you prefer the shallow or deep end of the pool?" he asked, the same firm expression on his face. I went through my thought process aloud, for the sake of buying time. And because it was a really funny question.

"Well, you can do handstands in the shallow end of the pool so that's enjoyable of course... but I'd have to say the deep end." I rubbed my chin as if the thought were distressing.

"Why?" he pressed.

"When I was very little, I'd like to swim to the bottom of this 8-foot pool my friend had. I remember she would float at the top with a life jacket and I would dive, pushing past the pressure and holding my breath until I couldn't last another second without air." I explained, slightly amazed that his joking question had become something genuine.

"What about you? The shallow or deep end?" I asked, shaking my head and trying to ignore the way I felt getting to simply talk to someone who wanted to hear my answer.

Just like Charlotte, he ignored me and offered another question. "Why did you want to get to the bottom so badly?" 

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. "I think just to prove that I could. I wanted to find my limits and break them. We can push ourselves so much farther than we think if we just try."

He chewed on his lower lip and thought about that. I didn't mean for it to become profound... what if he thought I was arrogant now?

"Maybe I just wanted to impress my parents. Idon't remember." I added dumbly, wincing when he turned to me and raised aneyebrow. 

"You don't have to do that, Maya. I want to hear what you have to say." He said forthright before mumbling the last sentence, seemingly embarrassed.

"Thank you. I'm not used to that." He was so honest with me that it was hard not to be just as honest in return.

Suddenly the car made a sharp right turn and we pulled into a steep driveway. There was a little white building ahead of us with blinking neon lights wrapped around an unobtrusive open window. The menu was dark and almost unreadable, but pink light coming from an "OPEN" sign made it visible.