Falcon tries not to laugh but fails. “You have quite a memory.”
“They scarred me for life,” I state bluntly, keeping the frown on my face.
Falcon shakes his head and placing an arm around my shoulder, he pushes me toward the door. “I’m not falling for it. You’ve already shown me you don’t scar easily. Let’s get going.
“Oh, wait.” I duck from under his arm and go grab the keys in my bedroom. Twirling them around a finger, I say, “We can’t walk to town.”
“We’re not taking my car?” Falcon asks as I shut the door behind us, and we walk toward the parking area.
“No, we are most definitely not taking your car,” I say, then I grin up at him. “Lulubelle is sensitive, so don’t insult her.”
“You named your car,” Falcon murmurs and then he stops walking. “I’m not going to lie, everyone on campus thought that was the janitor’s car.”
I slap my hand over my heart. “That hurts.” I feign looking hurt.
“Is it roadworthy?” Falcon asks, stepping closer to my blue Volkswagen Beetle.
“Now you’re asking for a beating,” I threaten as I unlock the driver’s side. I get in and unlock the passenger door for his royal highness.
Falcon gets in and bundles the dress on his lap. I hold it in, but when my eyes begin to water, I burst out laughing.
Falcon turns in the seat and placing his right hand on my headrest, he leans over to my side. I try to swallow my laughter, but every couple of seconds, it bubbles over my lips. His eyes capture mine, and he begins to lean in.
My laughter dries up, and my lungs forget what their main function is. My fingers wrap tightly around the set of car keys.
His eyes keep hold of mine, and as he gets closer, I can make out tiny green flecks scattered in his deep brown irises.
A car near us beeps and then laughter sounds up from a group of students.
Not thinking twice, I grab hold of Falcon’s neck and shove him down, trying my best to hide as well.
When I hear the other car pull out, I peek over the dash to make sure the coast is clear. “That was close,” I sigh as I sit up again.
Falcon leans back against his seat and covers his eyes with his left hand. His shoulders shake from the silent laughter.
Putting the key in the ignition, I start the car, which has Falcon staring at Lulubelle as if she’s an alien lifeform. “I seriously can’t remember when last I saw a car which needed a key.”
I pull out of the parking bay and wag my eyebrows at Falcon. “Stick with me, and you’ll experience all kinds of things.”
“Yeah, just not what it’s like kissing you by the looks of it,” he mumbles.Falcon checks the time again, and it’s only been five minutes since we placed our order. When he looks at me, I point to his watch. “You keep looking at the time. Do you have to be somewhere?”
“No, I’m just not used to waiting.”
“Patience is a virtue,” I quip.
“Do you really believe that?” he asks, leaning back in the booth we’re sitting at. “It’s from the bible, right?”
I scoot forward and cross my arms on the table, then smile brightly. “It’s from a poem. Piers Plowman which was written by William Langland.”
Thank you, Daddy, for teaching me poetry.
“I didn’t know that.” Interest flickers over Falcon’s face.
“Piers Plowman contains the first known reference of Robin Hood.” I try to remember the verse Dad told me. “Something along the lines of Conscience teaching about forgiveness, and Patience teaching to embrace poverty.”
“Do you agree with it?” Falcon asks.
The waiter brings our order, and I first take a sip of my juice before I reply, “In a way I do.” Not being a breakfast person, I only ordered toast. I butter the slice before I explain further, “I think it should be the other way around, poverty teaching you to embrace patience. You can’t do and have what you want with the snap of your fingers. You have to save up and wait to make some of your dreams come true. If everything in life is ready, just waiting for you to take it, it’s too easy. There’s no joy of finally achieving your goal or experiencing your dream.”
Falcon nods with his gaze on something outside the window. “Everything’s black and white then with no color,” he murmurs deep in thought. Snapping out of the moment, he looks at me and smiles. “You’re very insightful.”
I shrug and chew the bite I just took. Swallowing, I reply, “Nah, I just have an amazing dad.”
“I’ve never met him.” He picks up the cutlery and begins to eat.
“My parents divorced when I was six. My dad’s an old soul, and their lives just weren’t following the same paths. He’s traveling the world. When I’m done with my degree, I’d like to join him.”