tell if it was a good or bad thing.
We fell into a comfortable silence as the rest of the movie played and as soon as it ended we got our stuff up, piling it in the back of the truck. It was a quiet ride home, music playing softly in the background.
I pulled up to her cabin and we both spoke at the same time.
“Does anyone ever-”
“You know we don’t-”
We both stopped.
“I was going to ask you if anyone ever calls you Jo?”
Jolene looked at me and smiled. “Close friends do.”
“Oh,” was my reply.
“You can call me Jo.”
I smiled. It was really a simple and stupid thing but for some reason I thought I had crossed a huge hurdle right with this girl.
“What were you going to ask?”
Her eyes looked away from mine. “We don’t have to do this, yeah know.”
I shifted on the bench seat, trying to face Jolene. “Do what?” I asked timidly.
She stayed sitting forward. She was wringing her hands and her eyes focused on the cabin, not looking at me. “This dating thing. Is it weird? I think it’s weird?”
And then I felt like I was starting all over again, taking ten steps back.
Jo shook her head. “I mean, shit, that came out wrong. We can hang out and we don’t need to classify it as a date. I just . . . when I date I have this goal in my head-” And then she abruptly stopped.
I hesitated a second but asked, “No, keep going. What’s this goal?” I turned more fully towards her in the truck, with one arm leaning on the steering wheel. I didn’t want to give her a chance to avoid me or try to look away.
She sighed, obviously uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading. She still couldn’t look at me. “No one knows me, Ty,” she whispered. “When I’m dating, it’s about the short-term fun and really nothing more. It’s how I work and it’s been pretty good so far. I don’t want to mess with that. I’m happy with how things are.”
I didn’t know if I quite believed her, if she was truly happy.
“We don’t have to label it. At all. Okay?”
Jo nodded, accepting what I offered. “Do you run every morning?” She asked me, changing subjects.
“I try.”
“Do you always run on this trail?” She pointed to the general direction of the trail that connected to her cabin.
“It’s one of my favorites. I try to hit it at least once a week, if not more.”
I wanted to reach over and take her hand or brush the piece of hair that keep slipping from behind her ear. I know we had said there was no label, this was not dating, but I felt this pull to her and I had to restrain myself.
“What are you thinking?” was the question I allowed myself.
“Do you always run alone?”
“Mostly. Yeah.”
She fidgeted in her seat.
“Why?” I asked her. “Want to join me?” Because her joining me first thing in the morning to run the trails would be the second best thing to waking up next to her. God, this friend/non-label thing was going to be hard.
“Okay, don’t laugh, but when I was living in Boise I was kind of addicted to work out classes. Zumba, Hip-Hop, Body Combat, any of those. I would go to three or four classes each week and now that I’m here for the summer I don’t really know what to do.”
“Come running with me.”
“I could, but I really know nothing about running, let alone trail running.”
I smiled. “It’s pretty simply. Put one foot in front of the other.”
She smiled back at me. “That’s it, huh?”
I nodded. “I’ll be here, six in the morning. Be ready”
Jo laughed as she said, “I guess I’ll be running with you in the morning. All right then. Well . . .” I could tell she didn’t know what to say as she paused. I bet her dates probably ended differently than this one. Oh that’s right, it wasn’t a date. “Thank you for tonight,” she finally said.
Jo slipped out of my truck as quietly as she slipped in. I watched her get into her cabin and pulled out of the driveway, already wishing it was morning.
CHAPTER
Learning to Kill: Stories