CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The alley across the way looked deserted as we pulled onto the street. It was after work, with the shops now closed. Everyone had cleared out in the last hour, but Bradley’s truck was still outside his mattress shop. Sometimes I would watch him drive from his shop to his house directly across the street with a truck bed full of mattresses, which always left me wondering what he was really transporting. Kael buckled his seatbelt across his chest and I ignored the annoying ding my car gave, the one that reminded me to put my seatbelt on. Luckily it was an old car so it would ding only once, sometimes twice. I always waited to put my seatbelt on later, a few streets away. I’m not sure why—a little bit of living recklessly, I guess.
As I got closer to my dad’s house on post, the familiar creep of dread was washing over me. I thought about trying to start a conversation with Kael, but from what little I knew about this guy, talking wasn’t really his thing. I glanced over at him and quickly turned on the radio. I had never been around anyone who made me feel this prickly awkwardness before. I couldn’t explain what this felt like—couldn’t even be sure that I disliked it—but I just had this weird desire to talk to him. What was that? The urge to pierce the air, the need to fill the space with words? Maybe Kael had it right by choosing his words sparingly, and the rest of us had it wrong.
My Spotify was playing a song I hadn’t heard before, but I recognized Shawn Mendes’s voice immediately. I turned the volume up a little, trying to contain my inner fangirl on hearing a new song from him for the first time. Kael didn’t react at all to the music, even when I turned it louder and played the song twice in a row. He sat there, like a statue, in my car as I drove closer and closer to the impending doom of the dinner table.
My gas indicator light came on, a bright reminder of my disorganization and irresponsibility. When the Shawn Mendes song finished, it was time for an ad break: a testimonial for a weight-loss clinic, great for my psyche, and an offer for low-interest car loans. “Huge military discounts!” the voice promised, with a borderline drill-sergeant shout. Someday I would be grown-up enough to pay for ad-free listening, but that day wasn’t here yet.
“I can play something else if you want,” I told him, ever the cordial host. “What kind of music do you like?”
“This is fine.”
“Okay.” I replayed the new Shawn song a third time.
I exited the highway and was glad to see there wasn’t a line to enter the base. I loved living on my side of town, close enough to the post, but far enough from my dad that I could breathe.
“Here we are,” I said, as if he couldn’t see the bright lights ahead of us.
He shifted his hips and pulled out a dog-eared wallet from the pocket of his ACU pants. He dropped his military ID into my open hand. The tips of his warm fingers grazed my skin and I jerked my hand away. His ID fell between the seats.
“Damn it. Sorry.” I shoved my fingers into the slim slot and managed to grab the card just as it was my turn to approach the guards.
“Welcome to the Great Place,” the soldier working the gate said.
“Really?” I couldn’t help but tease him.
Ever since the soldiers were required to recite that ridiculous motto, I gave them shit about it. I couldn’t help it. I did it in Texas and carried it on to Georgia.
“Yes, really,” he said, his tone neutral. He inspected our ID cards and the standard decal stuck to my windshield.
“Have a good night,” the soldier told us, though I knew he didn’t care about our night.
He probably thought we were together, that I was some barracks whore driving us to this guy’s small room, where we’d have sex while his roommate slept in the other bed. Who even came up with the termbarracks whore? And why did I think it so freely, without considering that the soldiers were also sleeping with random strangers? I felt like shit knowing how easily the wordwhoreslipped into my head. I made a mental note to get better at the way I think about other women.
“Uh—I don’t know where I’m going,” I reminded Kael.
“It’s a right up here,” he mumbled, as I was passing a street on the right.
“Rightnow?” I jerked the wheel to make the turn in time.
He nodded.
“Next light. Turn left there. There!”
“Dude.” I rolled my eyes, stopping my car for a second.
“What?” The way he asked seemed like he’d forced himself to respond. I felt like he wanted to get out of my car as soon as possible and the thought sort of pissed me off. I didn’t necessarily want to be playing taxi for a stranger who was allegedly Elodie’s husband’s bestie. I barely knew Phillip as it was, and his friend acting this way didn’t exactly improve my opinion of Elodie’s man.
“Sorry. Just go up a little further. It’s there on the right. The brown building.” He gestured in the general direction.
The buildings were nearly identical. The only things differentiating one from the other were the numbers painted on the sides. The one we were passing was either 33 or 88; the black paint was faded so I couldn’t tell.
“Yeah, they’re all the same big brown buildings here at the Great Place.”
I swear I heard the tiniest hint of a laugh, just a small puff of smoke, enough to show that he was at least mildly amused by my comment. Sure enough, when I looked over, there it was—a sliver of a smile spread across his lips.
“It’s here.” He pointed to a massive parking lot. Kael kept his finger pointed at a navy-blue truck parked in the back of the mostly empty lot. I pulled up next to it, about a car’s length away.
“Thanks . . .” He looked at me like he was searching for something.
“Karina,” I told him, and he nodded.
“Thanks,Karina.”
I tried to calm the swarm of bees in my stomach as he climbed out of my car without another word.