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5 | The Arrow and the Song

Chapter Five

        Apparently Jo’s dad appreciated the dessert(s) from Enchanté, because he now not only tolerated my being with his daughter, but he seemed to encourage it.

If Jo and I had decided to just spend a day at our separate homes, enjoying the company of our separate families, Mr. Underwood would suggest that Jo go out and socialize. With me, in particular. He even allowed me to call him Darrell.

On one of those days Jo and I just wanted to relax and have some individual ‘me time’- it was one of those rare moments when we were inseparable- Mr. Underwood- er, Darrell- convinced Jo to go somewhere with me.

As per his wishes, Jo invited me to Marty’s café, in the hopes that she could also catch up with her friend, Merritt. She informed me that she had indeed checked up on his schedule, and supposedly he was working that day. It was a Wednesday.

In the late afternoon, I started the walk over to Jo’s. We had decided to walk to the café, considering it was somewhat close to her neighbourhood and I’d been losing money like crazy by getting gas, which, of course, fueled my Fairlane.

As I rounded the corner onto Sycamore Street, Jo leapt up from her perch on her front steps. She waved to her dad, who was standing in the window, and ran to meet me.

I had known Jo for a little while, and had dated her for an even shorter amount of time, but I knew most of her habits. For instance, I could easily tell whenever she was excited. She would start to babble with a flushed face and wave her hands around a lot.

So on the journey to Marty’s, while she didn’t necessarily discuss anything particularly interesting or important, I could see that Jo was making a considerable effort to control her emotions.

The only hints I had were a notebook in her hand and two pencils tucked behind her ear, accompanied by a black-eyed Susan, obviously, blossoming on the opposite ear.

Once we got to the café, Jo hurried inside to visit Merritt. We found him talking to a co-worker while they scrubbed down the tables.

“Hey, Merr-Bear!” Jo teased. Merritt spun around and gave Jo an energetic hug.

I knew it was just a hug and all, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit peeved. Although they were just friends, it seemed like Merritt was holding Jo a little too tight, and for a little too long. Eventually, though, I must’ve stared enough daggers into his head, because Jo noticed me over his shoulder and broke off the passionate embrace.

“Chill out,” she whispered, sidling back over to me, “he has his own girlfriend.”

Jo gestured to his co-worker, and Merritt spoke.

“This is Chelsea Spears. She moved here last month from Devon, England. I’m Merritt Langley, by the way,” he introduced Chelsea and himself, coming forth for a handshake.

“Leo Fitzgerald.”

“Hullo,” Chelsea greeted us. Jo and I returned the regards. After a few minutes of exchanging pleasantries and simple chatter, I managed to drag Jo outside with our orders of ice cream.

“What are those for?” I asked, referring to the items she had brought along.

“Oh. This may seem stupid or whatever, but I thought maybe you and I could write a story. A short one, anyway.”

I shot her a dubious glance. “I don’t… I don’t really write. I read, and I do school work and stuff, but I certainly don’t write. Or, I don’t write anything great.”