Life Lines

15: Not A Serial Killer

"I'm aiming for great, just so you know."

I smiled at him. "I'm sure you are."

"Why did you say it like that?"

"Every guy aims for a great night. Doesn't mean it happens."

He contemplated my comment for a moment, the cab of the Hummer going into silence. One of Matchbox Twenty's old songs filling the empty space.

"Hopefully tonight will be different," he said softy.

"Hopefully."

When he pulled into the town's park, I started to get worried. Thoughts like maybe he didn't know where he was going, he's lost, and maybe he was a serial killer after all kept popping up in my head.

"Um...Union..."

"I know where I'm going," he said reassuringly. "Trust me."

Five minutes later, the massive Hummer came to a stop. I stared out the windshield and tried not to be amazed and slightly worried at the same time. The last time I saw this view, I ended up calling Schylar for a ride home because my date tried to force his way under my t-shirt. Why that seemed to happen all the time, I didn't know. What I did know was exactly where I was but I wondered if he did. He said he did but if that was true then he should know what this spot was used for.

And I had no intention of doing that.

I looked around and there wasn't a car in sight. Then again it was still early.

"Um..."

"I thought we should go somewhere that was a little more private but still public."

I looked over at him in worry. "Union...I don't know what you think is going to happen tonight but..."

His frown was probably deeper than mine. "What are you talking about?"

He didn't know. Oh my dear lord. The embarrassed blush my face had been collecting suddenly drained out and I had to bite my lips together to keep from laughing.

"What?" The frown got even deeper. "This is nice." He waved at the windshield. "The view is spectacular and Dreama said the stargazing is pretty...why are you laughing?"

"Did Dreama also tell you that this is the local make out spot?" It was his turn to have color in his cheeks. "She didn't, did she?"

He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"No." It was a clipped no, a cross between anger and discomfort. "I'm sorry, Natalie. I didn't know." He turned his head to look at me, sincerity in his eyes. "I swear I just..."

"It's fine." I looked out the windshield for a second and then turned back to look at him, smiling. "Let's just move passed it. What did you have planned?"

"Well," he rested his hand on the back of my seat and rotated just slightly to look in the back seat, "I was planning on a picnic in the bed of the truck but now that I think about it..."

"Let's do it."

"Are you sure? Because we can go. I can actually take you to a real restaurant..."

I pried his hand off the headrest of my seat and reached back, opening the lid of the picnic basket. Whatever he had in there smelled so good.

"We're staying. At least for now." I dropped the lid and looked at him. "If it's ok with you, that is."

"It's fine. I just don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."