When I got home, I stared at my open, empty suitcase for what felt like eternity. I had no idea what kind of extra credit work I would be doing. Were we going to go to some museum? Was I going to have to dig through boxes in the garage and do some kind of family history project? Maybe he was just going to make me sit at his kitchen counter and write like 10,000 words on the history of paper. I just didn’t know. I decided to pack for all contingencies.
I texted Mom and left a note letting her know I was staying at Uncle Alex’s for school stuff, and that she could call either one of us to check the story. I knew she would be in meetings until seven, so she wouldn’t get the text or the note until I was already gone. She would probably check in with Alex, not me, and agree to leave me to my fate.
I heard a car horn and peeked out the window. Sure enough, there was Uncle Alex closing the door to his truck and walking toward the front door. He was still wearing what he wore to school, and it was at that moment, I realized I too was still in my school uniform. Crap. I opened the door just as he reached it, a small half-smile planted on my face. He stood there in the doorway, looking me up and down. I suddenly felt very self-conscious under his gaze, which was stupid. He saw me in this uniform everyday. Why would the fact that I’m spending the night at his house change how he would look at me?
“Are you ready?” he asked. I threw on my backpack, and I grabbed my purse and suitcase instead of giving an actual response. Uncle Alex politely took my backpack and suitcase to carry to the truck as I locked up the house. I wonder if he was this old school in his dating life. Oh, I wonder if he has a dating life. It’s odd that he’s never been married, at least for this family and town. I mean, he’s super attractive, has a house and a steady job. I wondered if he’s any good in bed. Oh my gosh, why am I wondering about that? I felt the blush creep up my cheeks as images flooded my mind of Alex’s lips on mine, and other places on me. I could not bring myself to look at him as I climbed into his truck.
We rode in silence all the way to his house. The tension was palpable. I now understood what people meant when they said they could cut it with a knife. I could smell his cologne or body wash or something, and it was almost hypnotizing. If he was single, I seriously didn’t understand how. We reached his house and unloaded the truck in silence. His mouth kept twitching, as if he wanted to say something but kept changing his mind.
“So, where am I crashing?” I asked as I stepped through his front door. It was a small house in a quiet neighborhood. The furniture was fairly basic, second-hand. Looked comfortable and homey, and I quickly wondered if that cushy, brown couch would be my bed for the next couple of nights. Or maybe, I’ll be in his bed… I shook my head, trying to get those thoughts from my mind. I didn’t know why this fantasy was so prominent lately. Even if he was single, he wouldn’t be interested in me. There’s an insane age difference. Plus, the whole related thing.