Not Until Then

Not Until Then Chapter 3

I really needed to talk to Dad. Talk, as in, real talk.

The moment we walked out of the suddenly penitentiary building, we were greeted by the cold gust of the wintry wind. “Do you want me to ride you home?” Jonathan proffered, already reaching for his keys in his pocket.

“I have my car,” I smiled wryly “Thanks though.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He grinned wickedly. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Was he trying to make me swoon or something? Because, really, I’ve seen that smirk—it was his trademark; the one he plastered on during magazine pictorials. I have to admit though, it was pretty mesmerizing. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

My smile didn’t falter. “Okay.” I answered simply.

His grin was immediately replaced by a disappointed frown. It took everything I had not to laugh. Stupid Jonathan, thinking I’d go all swooning on his feet. As if. “So,” he started again “I think it’s only logical for me to have your number.” He said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“No, it’s not.” I countered playfully.

He scowled. “You know, most would really kill for the opportunity.”

This time, I laughed. “Narcissist,” I got my phone from my bag and gave it to him. “Punch in yours.” He obliged, and then held his phone to me. “What will I do with that?” I asked quizzically.

“Save your number,” He responded with a duh tone.

Nuh-uh. It was my protocol to get numbers but never give mine away. That gave me the choice; whether I’d call the person or otherwise. In this case, I wasn’t really planning on calling or texting Jonathan. “No thanks,” I pushed his phone back to him with my palms.

“I’m not stupid, Braille. I know what you’re up to.” He said, but nonetheless, shoved his phone back to his pocket.

I decided to ignore his remark. “It’s cold here. I need to go.”

He nodded and started shuffling to the general direction of the lot. “Okay, I’ll walk you to your car.”

I held my palms up to stop him. “No, you don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?” He cocked his head to the side innocently.

“Be all gentlemanly, Jonathan, you don’t need to act pleased.” I gave.

“You think I’m acting?” He arched an eyebrow.

I looked him straight in his blue eyes. “No,” I responded “I know you’re acting.”

He chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not.” He held me palms and pinned them to my side, then tucked his hands to his pocket.

“Nice try, flirt.” I smirked deliberately.

He shook his head dramatically. “There’s no point in convincing a skeptic.”

“That’s right,” I grinned “So if I were you, I’d jog back to my car. See you tomorrow?”

“Is that an invitation?” His eyes blatantly lit up in mischief.

I scowl. “No, it’s a death threat.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’m suicidal. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With the last attempt of his wicked grin, he turned to the direction of his car. I turned to mine and drove to my house.

Like usual, I parked in the driveway of my empty house. It did feel lonely sometimes—being on your own—but I strongly prefer it this way. Living with Mom and Dad wasn’t bad but I had this urge to move away after college. It seemed reasonable, seen as I’d be working to feed myself then. Not entirely though; my bank account already had a rather head-spinner initial before I added my first earnings.