I decided I’d handle the check-in call later. For now, I had to get my nerves under control. I only lived half a block from the entrance to my subdivision, so it wasn’t a long walk, but I saw Jason’s truck sitting at the side of the road, and Jason’s spiky blond hair and tanned skin, and the walk suddenly seemed endless. Every step echoed in my ears, hammering like thunder. Each step seemed to make every bit of me shiver and jiggle, and I wondered if he would think I was overweight. I knew I wasn’t, logically. I was short and well-endowed, but I was in shape and ate well. I knew it, and most of the time I was fine with how I looked. But every once in a while, usually around Jason, I’d feel self-conscious about my shape. I knew he was attracted to Nell, which made me wonder if he’d ever even see me, since I looked nothing like Nell. I was shorter than she was, heavier than she was. I had dark skin and dark hair. Nell was tall and slender and had pale skin and perfect blonde hair. Nell was energetic and talkative and popular and confident, and I was…not. I was quiet, and shy, and I stuttered.
God, I knew I was going to stutter around Jason. I just knew it. He’d make me nervous or excited, and I’d forget myself and start stuttering. I was already nervous, and I wasn’t even within ten feet of Jason. I took several deep breaths and tried to call up my ire at his nerve. He still owed me a hell of an explanation, but I knew I’d let it go after a while. I’d give him shit about it, but I’d forgive him. Eventually.
I approached his black pickup truck and smoothed the front of my gray cotton skirt. Jason jumped out of his truck and circled around to open my door for me; points to Jason for manners. He didn’t speak until he’d swung the truck around the short boulevard at the entrance and out onto the main road.
“So,” I said. “Explain.”
Jason just grinned at me and turned on the radio, tuning it to a country station. I grimaced and changed it, but Jason frowned at me, tuning it back. “I like that song.”
I glared at him. “I hate country music.”
“Have you ever really listened to it?” he asked.
I sighed and shook my head. “No, not really,” I admitted.
He turned the volume up so the music filled the car as a new song came on. “Listen to this song. It’s one of my favorites. It tells such an amazing story.”
I closed my eyes and focused on the words…Eighty-nine cents in the ashtray, half-empty bottle of Gatorade…I was hooked immediately by the simple, vivid imagery. I lost myself in the song. Every line, every verse, and every repetition of the chorus was sung with wrenching emotion. I drive your truck…god. It hit so hard. I didn’t know why, because I’d never lost anyone the way the singer had, but I felt the song so poignantly.
When it ended, Jason clicked the stereo off. “So? What’d you think?”
“Who was that singing?” I asked.
“Lee Brice. The song is called ‘I Drive Your Truck,’ if you couldn’t tell from the chorus.” He grinned at me. “So was I right?”
I nodded. “Yes. You were right. That is a very touching song. It wasn’t so twangy like I thought it’d be.”
He laughed. “You’re thinking of the older style of country. The stuff coming out these days isn’t all like that, it’s more like country-influenced rock, I guess you could call it. I like country music because it’s…I don’t know. It’s about stuff. Most of the songs tell a story, or deal with something you can grab on to, you know? Something you can understand. I mean that song, obviously it’s about a guy who lost a close friend or a brother or his dad or something. It’s right there in the lyrics.”
“The lyrics were very poetic.” I smiled at him. “Play something else for me.”
He grinned and turned the radio back on. He listened for a few beats and then nodded. “This is another good one.” Glancing at me, Jason pointed in my direction as if dedicating a performance to me. “This one’s for you, Becca.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re weird.”
He cranked it up and shouted over the guitars. “I’m dedicating it to you! Listen up!”
He rolled the windows down and stuck his hand out, bobbing his head with the music and slapping the side of the truck with his palm in time with the beat. It had the same feel, the music in the background to the singer’s voice. It was more pop-influenced, I thought, and the singer had less of a country accent, but it was still definitely a country song. Then I started paying attention to the lyrics, in which the singer told the subject of the song, a woman, that she didn’t have to do all sorts of sweet and sexy things, but it sure would be cool if she did. It was a cleverly written song, romantic and heartfelt.
When the song ended, Jason turned the volume down a bit as another song came on. “Like that one? That was ‘Sure Be Cool If You Did’ by Blake Shelton.”
“Isn’t that the guy on that TV show? X-factor or The Voice or something?”
“Yeah. He’s on The Voice.”
I glared at him. “Why would you dedicate that song to me, anyway?”
He blushed and looked away, glancing at me sideways as he drove. “I don’t know. I just did. It seemed…fitting, I guess. For you and me, out on a date?”
I sighed. “You still haven’t explained anything to me.”
He rolled his eyes and rubbed the side of his face. “I know, I know. I just…you’re out with me now, and I’m having fun. Why ruin it with serious talk?”
I gave him a really? kind of look. “Because the only reason I agreed to come out with you is because you promised to explain.”
“Fine.” He turned the radio down. “It’s like this. Apparently every single person in the whole damn town knows I had a crush on Nell.” I noticed his use of the past tense, but I didn’t interrupt. “Well, at practice yesterday the guys were making fun of me about it.”
“That’s not very nice. Aren’t they supposed to be your teammates?”
He stared at me as if I’d said something he didn’t understand. “They are my teammates. It’s a guy thing, I guess. We give each other shit. It’s just…it’s just what you do.” He held up his hand when I opened my mouth to ask a question. “I thought you wanted me to explain? Then shut up for a second. They were giving me shit about having had a crush on Nell for my whole life but never doing anything about it. So, yeah. Frankie and Malcolm each bet me a hundred dollars that I wouldn’t ask Nell out the next day. Well, you can’t turn down a bet like that, so I asked her out. I mean, I wanted to anyway, but this way I got money in the process.”