Just a Little Honesty by Tracie Puckett Page A

size.” After I managed to chew up the fistful of popcorn without swallowing it whole, I turned back to Luke.  I looked behind him and noticed that the top was down on his loaner sports car. “What’s with the dropped top?”
    “I thought it’d be more enjoyable this way,” he said, and I agreed. It’d be quite an experience to sit in the convertible with my feet kicked out the window while I enjoyed a classic movie (with a friendly(ish) face at my side). “Movie’s about to start,” Luke said, checking his watch.
    I took that as a hint that we should get settled in, so we both retreated to our sides of the car. I, like any normal human being, opened my door and slid inside. Luke, as if suddenly possessed by a sixteen-year-old version of himself, jumped over his door and into the driver’s seat.
    We settled in, tuned the radio into the drive-in station (as instructed by the admission officials when we entered), and watched as the projection began almost perfectly on time. Only a few minutes into the previews, Luke reached over to take a handful of popcorn, and I bit back the urge to swat his hand.
    And other than the subtle movements required for stealing my food, Luke didn’t move much during the two-hour (give or take) showing of Singin’ in the Rain . I did my best to keep my eyes from looking anywhere else but at the screen, but it was much easier to watch Luke as he sat comfortably in the driver’s seat. He’d let his guard down; he was too enthralled with the showing to notice that I couldn’t tear my eyes off of him.
    Sometime toward the end of the film, Luke tucked both of his hands up under his head as he looked on at the screen, still oblivious to my stare. And I couldn’t help but notice how happy he seemed; he was completely at peace.
     
    Sunday, April 07 | 10:45 p.m.
    Luke and I got back to the cabin sometime around eleven; it had been dark for hours, so the walk from the car to the house was probably the most terrifying experience of my life to date. But, just like he had the first time he walked me through the woods back in Oakland, Luke took my hand—for no other reason than to guide me along in the dark—and helped me find my way from the car.
    After we were safely out of the dark and back in the cabin, Luke shut the door and dropped his keys on a nearby hook.
    “Thanks for the movie,” I said, twisting my lips.
    I didn’t know what else to say. I could’ve thanked him for letting me have a few minutes of peace and quiet, letting me go off on my own, or finally trusting me enough to loosen his grip. But I could hardly see how that would’ve meant anything to him. I could’ve thanked him for being beautiful, having the perfect face to stare at, or a million other things… but all I could do was express my thanks for the night out.
    “Sure,” he said, heading back for his usual rocking chair. “You heading up to bed?”
    I looked up at the loft for a minute and then back to him, and he was already settled in and reaching for his photo book.
    “Luke,” I asked, watching as he opened the front cover. “What’s in that thing that’s kept your attention for the past couple days?”
    He ran his fingers across a page and then looked up. “Hmm?”
    Just like he’d been the first time I’d inquired, he seemed perfectly unaware of anything but the book in his hands.
    “Luke?”
    “Oh,” he said, shrugging, but he never tore his gaze away from the page. “Family pictures.”
    “Your family?” I asked, coming closer.
    “Yeah,” he said, and he still hadn’t looked up. He simply kept his head low and flipped through the same old pages he’d been flipping through since we’d arrived two days earlier.
    “Can I see?”
    His head suddenly jerked up, and he watched me in complete shock; the expression on his face looked as if I’d just asked him to strip down to nothing but his socks. He looked horrified by the question, but the horror wore off after a brief minute.
    “You