18 Hours To Us

by Krista Noorman

  He pulled it away and looked into her eyes before continuing.

  “Thank y—” She started to speak just as he leaned close and blew on her knee. Goosebumps covered her skin everywhere, and she knew there was no hiding them.

  His eyes met hers again, and the corner of his mouth turned up a little.

  She swallowed hard and attempted a weak smile.

  He squeezed a little antibiotic ointment onto his finger and rubbed it over her scratches, his other hand gently holding her calf.

  She couldn’t take much more of this torture. It was a relief when he finally covered it with a bandage, straightened the leg of her jeans, and let go. But then things became worse as he stood and grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, lifting it up over his head. She could’ve sworn her heart stopped beating, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

  “My turn.” He faced away from her.

  She stood slowly and moved the first aid kit to the hood of the car. The wound on Colton’s back was no longer bleeding, but it was red and crusted over. She took an alcohol wipe and began to clean the area.

  Colton winced.

  “Sorry.”

  “Do what you gotta do.”

  A wave of dizziness suddenly hit her, and she gripped his side with her left hand as she worked to clean the cut with her right.

  “I like that,” he said.

  “The sting of the alcohol?” she asked.

  “Your hand.” He rotated slightly at the waist and glanced down to where she was holding his side.

  “Turn,” she commanded. “I’m not through with you.”

  Colton chuckled.

  She finished her mission and applied a small amount of ointment before searching for a bandage to cover it. “Maybe you need stitches. It’s not bleeding anymore, but it’s kind of a gash. You could end up with a nasty scar.”

  Colton reached for the butterfly bandages. “Just use a couple of these. It’ll be fine. A reminder of our trip.”

  “Men.” She rolled her eyes and applied the bandages.

  He turned to her then. “Done?”

  She glanced at his chest before averting her eyes to the tree line. “Yes. Are you gonna put a shirt on now?”

  “Do you want me to?” The soft tone of his voice sent chills up her spine.

  “Yes.”

  “How come?”

  She noticed the amused smirk on his face.

  “No shirt. No shoes. No service.”

  His eyebrow lifted.

  Her cheeks warmed, and she stared at the ground. “We’ll be hungry again soon. Restaurants won’t serve us if you aren’t wearing a shirt,” she clarified.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile. He shook his head and walked to the back of the car again. He returned wearing a fresh, unbloodied shirt in a deep green that brought out the color of his eyes.

  “Better?” He tugged at the bottom hem of his shirt.

  “Better.”

  Colton tossed Natalie the keys. “Your turn.”

  “Seriously? You actually trust me to drive?” She circled to the driver side.

  “Just don’t crash.” He winked as he disappeared into the car.

  She took her place behind the steering wheel, adjusting the seat and mirrors. A wave of excitement came over her followed by a strong wave of dizziness. She really needed those ibuprofen right about now.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  She breathed in deep and let it out. “Ready.”

  Colton’s car was awesome to drive. Smooth and sleek. She felt special that he allowed her behind the wheel, and she wondered if he had ever let Lexi or any of his friends drive. She pushed the thought out of her mind and took a quick glimpse at him as he slept. He looked peaceful and oh-so-handsome. She fought the urge to reach out and brush a wave of hair off his forehead. And that jawline—that perfectly cut jawline with a hint of stubble forming. Natalie sighed. She wasn’t the kind of girl to refer to guys as hot, but Colton really was.

  Ahead on the highway, Natalie noticed the signs for I-77, which would lead her south to Charleston, West Virginia, where the caravan of buses were stopping for the night. She also saw signs for I-76 going east into Pennsylvania, the original route Colton had put them on.

  A million thoughts raced through her mind. What if she took I-76 instead of merging onto I-77? This trip was nothing like she had expected it to be so far, and although part of her wanted to meet up with her friends, the other part wanted her trip with Colton to continue. Just the two of them.

  She passed another sign. Only a mile to decide. What would Colton think when he woke up and discovered that she had turned? What would it mean, if anything, for them? She was sure his flirtation was just the way he treated all the other girls in school, that she wasn’t as special to him as he was actually making her feel. But what if she was wrong? What if he was feeling even a fraction of what she was feeling for him? Could there be something between the two of them? Something real?

  The green highway signs stared her down as she sped toward them. 77 or 76? Sensible or stupid?

  She glanced over at Colton, then activated her turn signal.

  Stupid.

  10

  Talent

  Colton had teased her about snoring, but he was doing that very thing, which she found rather adorable. It was exactly the kind of snore people teased about. Loud and steady. She touched his arm, and he immediately stirred, rubbing his eyes like a cute little baby waking from a long night’s sleep.

  He peered out the window. “Where are we?”

  “Still in Ohio.”

  “Will this state ever end?” His voice was deeper than normal with a slightly scratchy, just-woke-up sound to it.

  She felt suddenly flushed. “Are you hungry? Because I’m hungry.”

  “I think you’re always hungry.”

  “True.” She noticed a sign for a restaurant called Italiano Grille. “Do you like Italian?”

  “Who doesn’t like Italian?” He kissed his fingertips and tossed them in the air like an Italian chef.

  Natalie giggled. “Some people don’t.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know a single person who doesn’t like Italian.”

  “My stepmom doesn’t.”

  “I don’t know your stepmom.”

  “I’m just saying, there are people who don’t.” She activated the blinker at the next exit and caught Colton in her peripheral vision as he sat up straight, arched his back in a stretch, then ran his fingers through his hair.

  She gripped the steering wheel and forced herself to watch the road. It was all she could do to keep her eyes off of him. Somehow, he was even more attractive after a nap.

  “Favorite Italian dish?” he asked.

  “Chicken parmesan.”

  “So, you’re a marinara girl then?”

  “You’re not?”

  “A girl? I think it’s pretty obvious.”

  She gave him a look. “You’re an Alfredo guy then?”

  “Fettuccini, please.”

  She smiled as she turned right at the intersection and spotted the sign for the restaurant.

  Colton retrieved his phone and groaned.

  “What?”

  “You’d think she can’t function without me, I swear.”

  “Well, she is your girlfriend. She’s probably just worried about you.”

  He shook his head. “She’s not worried about me. She’s worried about us.” He motioned between the two of them.

  “She couldn’t care less about me.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “Oh.” Lexi wasn’t worried about her boyfriend’s safety. She was worried that he and Natalie were going to hook up while they were together. “Well, that’s ridiculous. She has nothing to worry about. Right?”

  Their eyes locked for an instant. “Right,” he replied.

  She drove into the parking lot of the Italiano Grille while Colton tapped away on his phone, reading his messages, she a
ssumed.

  The moment she pulled into a parking space, he pointed at the GPS. “Is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You missed the exit for 77.”

  Natalie stared at the steering wheel, her heart picking up pace. “No, I didn’t.”

  “You did. You were supposed to take 77 about twenty minutes south of the falls.” He touched the screen, bringing up the full map, showing her the route they were supposed to have taken.

  She watched without a word until he finally noticed the smile she was trying to hide.

  A smile crept over his face. “Wow!”

  “What?”

  He poked her playfully in the arm. “You’re sneaky.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” She could barely keep a straight face.

  “You went this way on purpose.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Did I?”

  “You’re having fun with me. Admit it.”

  “I never said that.” A blush colored her cheeks.

  “You didn’t have to.” He laughed. “You’re glad you crashed your car and we’re on this trip together.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  He shook his head, clearly amused.

  “Are you mad?” she asked.

  “Heck no.”

  “You’re not upset we aren’t catching the buses tonight?”

  He looked at her seriously. “I’m having fun with you too, Natalie.”

  She smiled at him, and the smile she received in return reached all the way up to his vivid green eyes.

  He clapped his hands together. “Let’s eat!”

  Italiano Grille was quaint with photographs of the famous sites of Italy gracing every wall. It wasn’t a typical Italian restaurant like others she had been to, though. This one had a small stage to one side where some sort of talent show was going on.

  The hostess saw them to a seat not too far from the stage, and they listened to a man singing an Italian opera song.

  Natalie’s eyes grew big as the man hit a couple high notes. She looked over at Colton, who was pretending to mouth the words as the man sang. “Stop.” She swatted at his arm. Giggles took over as he continued. “He’s going to see you.”

  Thankfully, the man’s song came to a close before Colton’s antics were discovered, and the room filled with applause.

  The waitress came to take their order as another man took the stage and stepped up to the microphone. “Thank you, Paolo. Next up, we have a local favorite, the one and only Deb, featuring her good friend Davey.”

  A petite brunette woman with short curly hair and poofy eighties-style bangs stepped onto the stage and took a seat on a small stool. She carried a ventriloquist dummy with red hair and a red shirt and propped him up on her knee.

  “It’s wonderful to be back at Italiano Grille tonight,” she said. “We love coming here.”

  “I don’t,” Davey piped in.

  “You don’t?” Deb asked. “Why not, Davey?”

  “It’s the food,” he replied.

  “What’s the matter with the food?”

  “I can never decide what to eat. It’s all so good.”

  “How do you know, Davey? You have no taste buds.”

  A few audience members chuckled. Colton rolled his eyes.

  The waitress arrived soon after with their order, and a goofy expression settled on Natalie’s face at the plate piled high with spaghetti and chicken and lots of marinara sauce. It was a good thing she was at the gym five days a week conditioning because she had a voracious appetite. She heard the click of a camera and saw Colton taking a picture of her.

  “Seriously?”

  “The way you’re looking at that food just screamed to be captured.”

  “Whatever. Don’t post that.”

  “I won’t.” He grinned knowingly.

  Natalie tried to pretend his grin didn’t affect her in any way and took a bite of her dinner.

  “Good?” He was still watching her.

  “Mhmm.”

  Colton dug into his fettuccini Alfredo, and they ate in silence, listening to the ventriloquist’s act.

  “See that table there in the front row?” Davey asked, nodding his head toward an older couple seated next to the stage.

  “Yes, I do,” Deb replied.

  “I think I know him.”

  “You know the guy?” Deb asked.

  Davey shook his head. “No, the table.”

  Deb looked at Davey curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “I think we were made from the same tree.” Davey cackled.

  A few chuckles were heard over the clinking of silverware against plates as people enjoyed their meals.

  Colton sucked a noodle up as he shook his head. “They call this talent?”

  “Be nice.” Natalie twisted a few long strings of spaghetti around her fork.

  The dummy spoke again. “All these candles on the tables are making me nervous.”

  “Why, Davey? Because you’re made of wood?”

  “No, because of all the hairspray you use.”

  Colton rolled his eyes at Natalie. “Oh my gosh.”

  “It’s cute.”

  “It’s lame.” He took a drink of water.

  “I’d like to see you get up there.” Natalie nodded toward the stage.

  “No way would I ever be a ventriloquist.”

  “I mean, just get up there and … talent.”

  “You first. You could flip around the stage. But don’t fall off the edge because I’m not catching you this time.”

  “You’re funny … hey, I know, how about standup comedy?” She teased, nodding enthusiastically.

  He shook his head.

  “What other talents do you have?” she asked.

  “None.”

  “You lie.”

  “I can throw a football.”

  “If I remember correctly, you wrote me a poem once.”

  He tilted his head to the side and smirked at her. “So, you do remember our first grade love affair?”

  She hoped the lighting in the restaurant was dim enough to mask her blush.

  “Well, I don’t think ‘Roses are Red’ really counts as poetry,” he told her.

  “I thought it was good for a six-year-old.”

  “Now who’s the comedian?”

  “I think I still have it somewhere.” She knew exactly where it was, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “No, you do not.”

  She nodded and took a bite of garlic bread.

  “Do you remember what it said?”

  “Nah.” She waved him off, even though she remembered it word for word.

  He examined her closely as she took another bite of bread. “You do, don’t you?”

  “I’m eating,” she mumbled between bites.

  He left it alone, but kept his eyes on her as she ate.

  “Stop watching me.”

  “Where do you put it all?”

  “My dad says my stomach is a bottomless pit.”

  “That seems like an accurate statement.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  When the ventriloquist finished, she went from table to table, handing out her business cards.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said when she reached Natalie and Colton’s table. “Davey and I are happy to do parties and events.”

  “She is, anyway,” Davey piped in. “But if it was your party, pretty lady, I would be more than happy.”

  Natalie giggled.

  Colton stared blankly.

  Natalie took the business card Deb handed her. “Thank you. Bye, Davey.”

  “Bye, pretty lady.”

  Natalie examined the card. Turning it over in her hand, she found a scratch-n-sniff sticker with Davey’s picture on it. “I might regret this.” She hesitantly scratched the sticker and raised it to her nose. “Pizza,” she said with relief and handed it to Colton, who tucked it under the bread basket without taking a whiff.

&nbs
p; The announcer from earlier took the stage again. “Now we’ll open up the stage to anyone with a talent they would like to share with us.”

  “Your turn,” Colton stated.

  “No way.”

  “I’ll get up there and talent, as you say, if you do a little gymnastics routine for everyone.”

  “Not happening.” After her fall earlier, she knew she shouldn’t be doing any gymnastics until she let her body recuperate from the accident. But Colton didn’t know that. He thought she was fine, because that’s what she had told him. At least she’d been able to pop a couple ibuprofen while Colton was sleeping in the car.

  Colton took the last bite of his pasta and jumped up from his seat. “We’ve got talent!”

  “All right!” the man pointed to Colton. “What is your name, young man?”

  “My name is Colton, and this is my good friend, Natalie.” He pulled Natalie’s chair out as he passed by.

  “Colton.” She covered her face with her hands.

  “What’s your talent?” the man asked.

  “Natalie is a gymnast and would like to share some of her floor routine with everyone.” He took her hand and tugged her up from the chair, turning her to face the stage, nudging her forward.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” she muttered under her breath.

  The audience began to clap as Natalie and Colton took the stage.

  “I don’t have my music with me,” she whispered.

  Colton took out his phone. “What should I play?”

  She thought for a moment. “Play the theme song from the movie Goonies.”

  “Seriously?” Colton replied.

  “Just search for ‘Goonies Floor Routine Music’ on YouTube.”

  He did as she asked and found it.

  Natalie moved to the side of the stage and crossed her arms over her chest, her head tilted to the side, one leg bent across in front of her other. The music began, and she kicked her foot to the side, her arms coming down and gracefully moving along with her body as she rotated. It wasn’t her current floor routine music, but she had used it when she was younger. She did her best to make it work with her current routine, dancing across the stage to the other side and turning to prepare for her first run. She knew she couldn’t perform all of the skills she normally would because of the lack of space and no safety mats—not to mention her stiff neck—but she did a roundoff back handspring, then continued on with her 360-degree turn. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment when she came out of the turn, feeling a little dizzy. All eyes were on her as she did a switch leap and split jump combination, then went for one more roundoff back handspring. When she landed, the audience cheered, but the room began to spin and tilt on its axis. She attempted to raise her arms up in the traditional gymnastics salute, but stumbled instead.