“So you’re just not going to tell me who it was?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Come on. I just want to know.”
I scoffed. “You just want to gossip about me with Monica next time you see her. It’s nothing. Just a friend.”
He threw my towel back at me. “Whatever you say, Cap. I saw that stupid little grin on your face. I’m your friend, and you don’t smile like that about me.”
“That’s because you’re a pain in my butt.”
He shrugged with a grin. “Probably so. You’d be lost without me, though.”
I rolled my eyes. “Go lift something heavy.”
He saluted. “Aye, aye, Captain.” He strode away, whistling the theme song fromPopeye.
Such a smart aleck.
When I went to pick up Krystal that evening, my sweaty workout clothes were replaced by a clean button-down and my nicest jeans. I knocked on the front door and smiled when Krystal opened it.
“You didn’t have to come to the door,” she whispered. Then louder, she said, “Hey, just let me grab my shoes. Come on in.”
I stepped inside. She was probably right. It looked a little date-ish, didn’t it?
Sharon was sitting in the living room, a plate in front of her on a television tray. “Hey, Mrs. D. How are you doing?”
“Bryce, it’s good to see you. And looking so sharp! Did you get the cookies I sent to the station the other day?”
I smiled. “Yes, ma’am. They were delicious. We appreciate it.”
“Danielle promised me she’d send your favorites.” She looked back toward the hallway, but Krystal wasn’t coming yet. “I’m just so thrilled the two of you are spending some time together.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, well…. It’s just the fundraiser.”
Sharon nodded. “Oh, sure. Of course. The fundraiser.” She winked, then turned as Krystal came down the hallway. “You kids have fun.”
“We’re just working, Mom.” Krystal leaned over and kissed her mom on the head. “I’ll see you later. Just leave the dishes, okay?”
We walked out to the truck, and I started around to get the passenger door. Krystal put her arm out in front of me. “I got it. Not a date, remember?”
I frowned and kept walking. “I open the door for my sister, too. Doesn’t have to be a date for a man to be polite.”
“I’m just saying… I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” she said as she climbed inside.
“So what if they do? Maybe a few rumors around town would be good for me.” I shut the door with a little more force than necessary and walked around. It wasn’t Krystal’s fault.
I took a deep breath and opened my door. “I seem to be apologizing for my words a lot with you.”
Krystal smiled. “It’s okay. You can say what you think around me. I won’t judge you.” As I drove down the street toward my parents’ house, she continued. “It’s just that… I don’t want people to think we’re dating, because when I leave…I’ll be the bad guy who left you behind–again.”
I swallowed my instinctual response to deny her words and thought about what she said. I hated the fact that she was right.
I nodded. “I’ll be sure to make sure our friendship appears strictly platonic.”
Which should be easy because it was strictly platonic. Right?
A minute later, we were at my parents’ house. They lived right down the road from Krystal’s mom. It had been a lot of years riding the bus together and cruising around the neighborhood on our bicycles that had cemented our friendship. Bikes had transitioned to my first truck, and the neighborhood had been replaced by drives on the gravel backroads with the music up too loud.