a fight again?” Tori always craves junky food when she’s upset with her boyfriend.
“He tells me,” she puts a finger in the air, “that I’m supposed to stay here in this dumpy dairy town and wait for him to decide what he wants to do with his life. I told him, hell no! I’m leaving for college as soon as I can. I’m not going to get stuck here waiting for him while he wastes his life away and miss my chance at a real college experience.”
“If you go to ASU, you’ll only be in Tempe. That’s a twenty-minute drive. What’s his deal?” I ask.
“His deal is he doesn’t want me going to a real college filled with smart guys getting a real education and doing something with their lives. That’s his problem,” she snaps.
I let her vent at me as we drive to a nearby burger joint. It’s the kind of place where you park, order out your window, and they bring the food out to your car. There’re a few picnic tables on an island in between the parking areas and shaded by a large awning with misters around the edges of it. We see a few other students sitting at one of the tables, so we sit at a table next to them. We use the intercom on the order box by our table to order some food.
As we’re waiting for our meal to arrive, Tori says, “Oh my gosh, that guy is totally checking me out. Can he be any more obvious?”
I follow the direction of her gaze. She’s looking at a guy sitting behind the wheel of a black pickup. The driver’s window is down, so we can see he’s looking in our direction. He’s wearing sunglasses, so we can’t see his eyes, but he’s clearly watching the two of us. I half expect him to turn away now that we’ve caught him, but his gaze never falters. Something about his intensity is a little off-putting. It’s very direct, as if he doesn’t care that we know he’s staring.
“He’s certainly not shy, is he?” I mutter and turn back to the table. There’s nothing new about a guy checking Tori out.
“Well, I don’t mind. He’s actually really cute. I wonder how old he is?” she says thoughtfully. She starts twirling her hair around her finger and flashing coy smiles in his direction.
“Oh, never mind,” she says as a waitress on roller skates brings us our food. “He’s not even from here. I wonder if he’s moving here or only visiting,” she muses. “Hey, maybe he’ll take me back with him! I wouldn’t mind some California weather about now.”
“California?” I ask, puzzled. I turn and look at the guy in the truck again.
“Yeah, his license plate.”
Sure enough, the plate on the front of his truck says California.
“Whoa, that’s creepy,” I mutter under my breath.
“What is?” Tori asks around a bite of hamburger.
I study the truck closer. It has to be the truck Jana almost backed into this morning. Same dark color, same make and model. It’s too much of a coincidence not to be. And here he is, sitting here, staring at Tori and me.
I’m beginning to think that maybe it’s not Tori he’s been checking out. I try to decipher his expression. Is he angry? I wouldn’t be so bothered by him if I hadn’t noticed he’s not eating anything. Well, maybe he ordered something and it hasn’t come out yet.
“What’s creepy?” Tori demands impatiently.
“Oh, nothing really. It’s just, Jana almost crashed into that guy this morning. And here he is. A weird coincidence, I guess.”
“There’s nothing weird about that at all,” she says. “The way your sister drives, we probably come across her victims more often than we know—there are so many of them. Besides, a guy’s gotta eat.”
Tori’s right. I try not to think about it as I finish my lunch, but I can’t keep my eyes from flicking in his direction every few minutes or so. He never takes his eyes off us, and the whole time we’re eating, no one brings him any food. Maybe he finished before we got here, but I don’t remember seeing his truck when we parked.
“This is so
“He tells me,” she puts a finger in the air, “that I’m supposed to stay here in this dumpy dairy town and wait for him to decide what he wants to do with his life. I told him, hell no! I’m leaving for college as soon as I can. I’m not going to get stuck here waiting for him while he wastes his life away and miss my chance at a real college experience.”
“If you go to ASU, you’ll only be in Tempe. That’s a twenty-minute drive. What’s his deal?” I ask.
“His deal is he doesn’t want me going to a real college filled with smart guys getting a real education and doing something with their lives. That’s his problem,” she snaps.
I let her vent at me as we drive to a nearby burger joint. It’s the kind of place where you park, order out your window, and they bring the food out to your car. There’re a few picnic tables on an island in between the parking areas and shaded by a large awning with misters around the edges of it. We see a few other students sitting at one of the tables, so we sit at a table next to them. We use the intercom on the order box by our table to order some food.
As we’re waiting for our meal to arrive, Tori says, “Oh my gosh, that guy is totally checking me out. Can he be any more obvious?”
I follow the direction of her gaze. She’s looking at a guy sitting behind the wheel of a black pickup. The driver’s window is down, so we can see he’s looking in our direction. He’s wearing sunglasses, so we can’t see his eyes, but he’s clearly watching the two of us. I half expect him to turn away now that we’ve caught him, but his gaze never falters. Something about his intensity is a little off-putting. It’s very direct, as if he doesn’t care that we know he’s staring.
“He’s certainly not shy, is he?” I mutter and turn back to the table. There’s nothing new about a guy checking Tori out.
“Well, I don’t mind. He’s actually really cute. I wonder how old he is?” she says thoughtfully. She starts twirling her hair around her finger and flashing coy smiles in his direction.
“Oh, never mind,” she says as a waitress on roller skates brings us our food. “He’s not even from here. I wonder if he’s moving here or only visiting,” she muses. “Hey, maybe he’ll take me back with him! I wouldn’t mind some California weather about now.”
“California?” I ask, puzzled. I turn and look at the guy in the truck again.
“Yeah, his license plate.”
Sure enough, the plate on the front of his truck says California.
“Whoa, that’s creepy,” I mutter under my breath.
“What is?” Tori asks around a bite of hamburger.
I study the truck closer. It has to be the truck Jana almost backed into this morning. Same dark color, same make and model. It’s too much of a coincidence not to be. And here he is, sitting here, staring at Tori and me.
I’m beginning to think that maybe it’s not Tori he’s been checking out. I try to decipher his expression. Is he angry? I wouldn’t be so bothered by him if I hadn’t noticed he’s not eating anything. Well, maybe he ordered something and it hasn’t come out yet.
“What’s creepy?” Tori demands impatiently.
“Oh, nothing really. It’s just, Jana almost crashed into that guy this morning. And here he is. A weird coincidence, I guess.”
“There’s nothing weird about that at all,” she says. “The way your sister drives, we probably come across her victims more often than we know—there are so many of them. Besides, a guy’s gotta eat.”
Tori’s right. I try not to think about it as I finish my lunch, but I can’t keep my eyes from flicking in his direction every few minutes or so. He never takes his eyes off us, and the whole time we’re eating, no one brings him any food. Maybe he finished before we got here, but I don’t remember seeing his truck when we parked.
“This is so
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