minutes.” I stand up.
“It’s only around the corner.” Brandon jerks his back.
“I need to visit the ladies’. It was nice chatting with you.”
I don’t wait for him to say the same. I’ve got to make it to the ladies’ and back to the classroom in less than five minutes and I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a line. Lord knows there are lots of ladies who work here.
I rush through the cafeteria and out the door. The restrooms are at the end of the hall. If this wasn’t my first day on the job and I was alone, I would run, but like my mama always says, have decorum, Sahara, know your manners. I push the door open and hike my way through the room to find an empty stall.
“Hey there, new girl?”
I jerk my head back. Is this voice talking to me? I ignore it and go about my business, flush and stalk my way to the sink. An older woman is washing her hands next to me.
“Listen here, new girl, you be careful around that boy.”
“Ma’am?” I don’t mean her any disrespect but I’ve got to make it to class and I’m not sure why she is telling me to be careful around… Brandon.
“Just be careful.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I nod and hike out of the ladies’ as fast as I can without running. I could probably qualify for the walking event in the Olympics. I’m sure I look ridiculous swinging my arms up and down but I’ve got to make it to room 771 in less than a minute. I slide in through the closing door.
Mr. Flints is at the front of the class with some odd-looking metal contraption and his eyes are on me. I sure hope he hasn’t been looking over my resume. Good grief, Sahara, what have you gotten yourself into? I slide my way to the back of the class but as I pass Brandon’s desk he hands me a small piece of white paper. Is he passing me a note in class? Does he want me to get in trouble? I sure hope Mr. Flints didn’t pick up on that. I grab it and stick it in my pocket as I sit down. The note is like a fire blazing on a hot July night and I’m fanning myself in the back of the class trying not to sweat. I slowly retrieve the note and open it up. Written are two words and ten numbers that flicker through my chest like a swarm of bees buzzing at a hive. Call me.
After class I scramble to my car and hop in. I saved up for three whole summers to buy Rontu. I thought that was the right name for my brown Chevette. It reminded me of the dog in Island of the Blue Dolphins. I just knew when I laid eyes on it at the flea market that Rontu and I would go on great adventures. Sure, most folks don’t think Chevettes are great cars, but I knew it would be solid and make for great companionship. Shoot, look at us now. Sitting in the parking lot of Blue Ribbon Creamery. First day of training was, I guess, a fifty-fifty. I didn’t scoop ice cream right… but I did meet somebody really nice. My chest tightens. I glance out into the parking lot; most of the cars are gone. Brandon is hustling toward me. I swallow. What am I going to say? What is he going to say?
His face lights up like the first day of spring and everybody is headed to Dairy Queen for their free scoop of ice cream.
“Hey there.” He leans into my car window. His body is so large I have to back up or else our faces would be touching. And by our faces I mean our lips. They are so close. The lump in the back of my throat grows bigger, like it’s one of those ridiculous-size jawbreakers that nobody could even fit in their mouth – well, except Suzie T, but that’s not nice to say; I can almost hear my mama clearing her throat in disapproval.
“Hey.” I kick my own foot. Hey? Why can’t I ever think of something clever? Well, I suppose that’s because I’m Sahara… and unfortunately Sahara is not clever. Especially with her degree that’s not good enough for the creamery. I frown.
Brandon squints his eyes at me. “Do you want to grab something to eat?”
I laugh. “Are you trying to come up with another way of buying me a meal?”
Brandon flashes his healthy chompers at me again. “It wasn’t going to be as fancy as the cafeteria but I have a couple of bucks in my wallet and the dollar menu sounds like a good idea. What do you say?”
My eyebrows push together. Is he serious? I’m too embarrassed to ask. “Maybe another time. I’ve got to get home and study.”
Brandon jerks his head back at me. “Study for what?’
“For this class we’re in. Aren’t you going to?”
His knuckles brush against his chin like he’s thinking of something. “How about we study together?” His dreamy blues stare down into my eyes and my chest tightens like a rattlesnake is cutting off my air supply. “Starbucks and study time, yes?”
“All right.” I can’t imagine Brandon’s ever heard the word no. He’s so confident and those eyes of his are about the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.
“Do you want to ride with me?” He raises an eyebrow at me.
“No, I’ll follow in my car.”
He nods and strolls to a big silver truck. I’m sure that thing cost a fortune. It’s so fancy-looking. Here I am in my beat-up…
“I’m sorry, Rontu.” I know I didn’t say it out loud but it’s like Rontu and I are connected somehow and, even though he’s a car, it just didn’t seem the right thing to say or think. He has really been a worthwhile investment for me.
I follow behind Brandon’s pricey truck and flip on some tunes to ease my nerves. That guy makes my insides dance around like a bunch of Mexican jumping beans. As the twang of the guitar slides through my speakers, I’m immediately at ease. I sure do like Patsy Cline and “Walking After Midnight” is one of my favorite songs. I know it’s sad but it reminds me of my daddy. Like maybe somehow his leaving was not on purpose. I wonder sometimes if he got lost and is still trying to find his way back to our home. To me and my mama. Though I don’t know if my mama would welcome him back in as it’s been twelve years since he left.
As I park my car I glance at Brandon’s truck. It’s so sparkly and nice, just like Brandon. Why is something that shiny acting interested in me? My stomach clenches and I hop out of my car.
Brandon holds open the door for me and we make our way to the register. I scan the different options and decide to order one of their tiramisu lattes. Whipped cream in the afternoon, is there anything better? I think not.
I reach into my purse to take out my card and Brandon pushes my hand back in my purse.
“Come on now, it’s only coffee.” His dreamy blues make my knees all wobbly.
I sigh. “Okay. Thank you. I’d like a tiramisu latte.”
“Whoa… I said coffee not the works.” Brandon laughs.
I reach back in my purse.
“Sahara, I’m kidding.” He shakes his head at me. “Two tiramisus, please.”
The cashier takes our names and rings us up. We step to the side while they make our drinks.
“You’re
