Still The One - Carrie Elks Page 0,50
advantage of the movie going on forever.” He rolled his eyes and took her assignment from her. “How long are they gonna keep showing it? There’s only so many times I can bear watching DiCaprio die.”
Van’s lips twitched. “It’s a beautiful scene. He gives his life up for her.”
“There was enough room for both of them on the door. Nobody needed to die.” He glanced up at the screen. The credits were rolling. Cars were backing out of their spaces and slowly joining the line to get out of the field. “Can’t you persuade old man Chaplin to show something with more action? I’m sick of chick flicks.”
“Titanic isn’t a chick flick.” She pulled out the cash drawer to count the takings. “And there’s lots of action in the movie. Don’t sulk because you’re jealous of Leo.”
“Jealous of that kid?” He shook his head. “No way.”
She stacked the twenties, then the tens.
“Tanner!” someone called from a car. She looked around him to see Chrissie Fairfax hanging out of the window. “We’re going to the creek. My cousin’s bringing a keg. You wanna come?”
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “What do you think?” he asked Van.
“I think I’m not invited,” she pointed out. “And anyway, I need to get home. Check on Mom.”
He turned back to Chrissie. “Not tonight.”
Chrissie batted her eyelashes at him. “That’s a shame. Maybe next time.”
“Sure.”
Van gritted her teeth and rolled the bills into cylinders, wrapping them with rubber bands. “Sure,” she muttered. “Because I’m desperate for a look at your boobs.”
“I didn’t know you were into girls.” He leaned closer, grinning at her. “Tell me more.”
“Your girlfriend’s trying to get your attention.”
“What?” He looked over his shoulder.
“Call me,” Chrissie shouted, lifting up her cellphone. “If you change your mind. You’ve got my number, right?”
“Go,” Van said to him. “The two of you getting together is inevitable.” She had no idea why that thought hurt, but it did. They were growing up. Having boyfriends and girlfriends was part of that.
“I’m walking you home, remember?”
“I can get a ride off someone. Jack lives over my way.”
The smile slid from his face. “You’re not getting a ride from Jack.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a manwhore. He’ll probably feel you up with one hand and steer with the other. I don’t want you getting in any accidents. We have a plan, remember?”
She separated out the coins, putting them into separate clear bags then into the cash box. “Yeah, well maybe I want to be felt up by Jack.”
Tanner leaned into the window, his brows knitting together. “What?”
Van shrugged. “I’m not a vestal virgin, Tanner. But everybody seems to treat me like that. Every time I think a guy’s gonna ask me out, he always seems to back off. It’s frustrating. I’m seventeen years old and I’ve barely kissed a guy.”
“Seventeen’s young.”
“You’re seventeen,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but I’m a guy.”
“What’s that got to do with it?” She locked the cash box. “Please don’t tell me you have this sexist belief that girls shouldn’t put out but boys should. I thought you were better than that.”
He grinned. “I am better than that. And I’m not talking about girls, I’m talking about you. Imagine if you go out with a guy and then he breaks your heart. I’m gonna have to beat the crap out of him, and that could end up on my permanent record. So you keeping yourself chaste is doing me a favor. Seriously.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Chaste?”
His eyes sparkled. “Virginal. Whatever.”
She shook her head. “You’re such a loser, you know that?”
“So they tell me.” He leaned in and ruffled her hair. “Come on, Van. Let’s go home.”
She licked her bottom lip, her brows knitted together. Mr. Chaplin drove up in his electric cart to take the money, and their conversation was forgotten.
At least until they were halfway home. They’d walked in silence for the first part, their sneakers kicking up the dust as they passed the growing corn lining both sides of the road. The moon was low in the sky. Heavy, almost, and it cast a pale light that made everything look black and white.
“Tanner?” Van asked, looking up at him.
“Yeah?”
“Did you have something to do with Nathan breaking things off with me last month?”
He stared straight ahead, his tongue pushing against the softness of his cheek. “What makes you ask that?”
“Because I could never figure it out. One minute he was asking me to the Spring Fling, the next he was telling me he needed to concentrate on football.” It had