“Kiss me here, before we get to school,” I said. I needed to get rid of this ghost feeling. Get rid of this I’m responsible feeling.
Buddy didn’t even hesitate. He pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Here?” he said, shutting off the engine.
We were a good ways out of Cassadaga.
I could taste the flowery chamomile still. “We don’t want anyone watching us,” I said as I leaned over the emergency brake to him.
“Right,” he said. His lips touched mine. “Mmmm, sweet.”
“Thank you.”
Then Buddy pulled away. “What do you mean, anyone watching us? We don’t do PDA. I believe in keeping what’s important to me all my own.”
“What?” I said, my voice going all screechy.
He smiled at me.
For a moment I forgot where I was. I was that comfortable.
“Evie.”
The windows steamed up. Expect Florida weather to get things steamy before they even have a chance to on their own.
“What?”
“What makes you think people been watching us kiss?”
I looked out the window.
No ghosts. No Tommie. I shrugged.
“It’s your dad, isn’t it? Your JimDaddy.” Buddy took a tight hold of the wheel.
“What? Gross. Are you kidding me? No. Ick.”
Buddy ran his hands around the steering wheel. He sure looked cute when he was bothered. I let down my window to get a bit of cooler air in the car. A mosquito buzzed in. I killed it.
“He used to watch me and Tommie.”
I raised my eyebrows. Folded my hands in my lap. “Watch you? Like watch watch you?”
“Like ‘I’m a father and I have my eye on you’ watch us.”
“I see.”
Buddy started the car. “You know,” he said, switching the car into gear. “It’s been years. I’d like to move on. But there are so many reminders.”
He pulled out in the street without even looking in the rearview mirror.
Whoever was in the car behind us laid on the horn, and Buddy flipped him off out the back window. Not that anyone could see from the steam. “We gotta get to class,” he said.