This means nothing.
___
"Do you even know how to read a map?" Elliott momentarily glanced at from the road to Brin and back again.
"I'll have you know," Brin huffed turning the map right side up, "I've read plenty."
"Okay," Elliott bit down on his lip, grinning. He knew she had no idea how to read a map by the way she pressed it within an inch to her scrunched up face. But seeing the long stretch of road in front of him, he decided he needed a laugh.
"Fine Navigator. Where are we right now?" He tossed her an I told you so look when she failed to come up with a response.
"I feel like you're getting a kick out of this," she folded the map back and put it back in the glove compartment, half sulking.
"I never thought I'd say this but you're right---Ow! What was that for?" He rubbed his arm that was now the target of Brin's fist.
"For you being a know it all," she shrugged, twisting the dial on the radio and rolling down her window.
"No, no. What are you doing?"
He swatted her hand away not wanting to hear the latest Cody White song. As far as Elliott was concerned all of White's hits were meaningless pop songs that girls including his sister and now Brin fawned over.
"You don't like Cody White?" Brin half shrieked looking at Elliott as if he had grown another arm.
"What gave it away?" he deadpanned.
"Not cool," she folded her arms over her chest.
"Actually you're the one who's not cool. Anybody who listens to Cody White doesn't have any musical taste."
Brin wasn't one to be at a lost for words, ever. Being the only child of Catey and Fred Henderson, she learned early on to never be off guard and to be already thinking of a response before the last words left the person's mouth.
Being the Mayor's daughter, she had to have a few tricks up her sleeve.
Because this circumstance wasn't one she'd been in too often, she resorted to...ahem... unconventional means.
"Are y-you, are you mocking me?" Elliott exclaimed. "Wow, very mature, Brin."
This continued for at least 30 more seconds till one of them caved.
"Yes!"
"This means nothing," Elliott replied, watching as Brin smiled.
He had to admit, it was nice seeing her smile. Her laugh didn't hurt either.
He cleared his throat, finding the air in the car now suffocatingly humid, and the distance the console had made between them looked incredibly small.
He tugged at his collar, eyes locked on the two lane road. He didn't even realize Brin calling his name just two minutes later, until he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Elliott!"
"Hmm...what?"
"I was asking if there was something you'd like to listen to," she pivoted to the point where she was staring at him directly.
Had it always been this hot in the car?
Reaching down to turn the heat off he stopped. He pulled back his hands realizing it wasn't even on.
"Um...no," he pulled down the sun visor to block the glare of the oncoming traffic, hoping it would also block the blush creeping towards his cheeks. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry. Maybe we should stop for something to eat. What time do you want to grab a bite?"
"Are you okay?" She spared him a quizzical glance. "You seem a bit...what's the word... Oh I don't know, a little jumpy?"
"Jumpy? Me, jumpy," his voice came out in the form of a tiny gasp. "I'm not jumpy."
"Whatever you say," she held her up hands in defense. "And the answer to your question is no. I'm not hungry. We have to get to Elmsville as fast as we can so you can get your book and I can get back to doing the things I like."
"Are you trying to get rid of me?" He lowered his voice, half joking, wishing he didn't ask the question.
"No, it's just that--" she sighed.
"What?"
"It's nothing," she rested her head nearest to the window in her palm, staring out into the atmosphere. Rolling fields with horses grazing in them came into view.
"Fine we'll do it your way," he turned his indicator on, "Elmsville it is."
___
"I still can't believe Will got on the wrong plane," Brin muttered. "Will, you had one job and you screwed it up."
"Maybe Victoria dodged a bullet," Elliott suggested.
What kind of person doesn't read the gate number before hopping on a plane?
"Everytime they get together, something goes wrong," Brin and Elliott said in unison.
"I want to know how the book ends. It's killing me. Have you finished reading it?" She tapped on her thighs, wishing she hadn't worn shorts as the heat of the leather seat seared her skin.
"Kind of."
"Are you finished reading it or not?"
"I've read farther than you have, I'll say that much. My aunt's probably going change stuff around, characters names, that sort of thing."
"Oh," she smiled feeling giddy. "Well I can't wait to see what happens."
"No can do, Brin," Elliott honked at a slow moving driver. "You weren't even supposed to read it the first time. My aunt gave it to me to read over, to get a sense of her demographic."
"And what demographic would that be?"
"YA. That means young adult."
"I know what that means Elliott," she playfully nudged him. "I'm surprised you know what that means."
"Me? Out of all people?"
"Right," she nodded understandably. "Bookworm."
She didn't miss the smirk that appeared on his face.
"Thanks."
"That wasn't...you know what? Take that however you want," Brin examined her nails.
She was due for a fresh coat, preferably something purple.
"Uh oh," Elliott kissed his teeth. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, was bumper to bumper traffic.
"Is there a way to go around it? Can we take a different way?" Brin lifted her head peering over the dashboard. Cars were piled up far into the horizon.
"I don't think so," Elliott took a look in his rearview mirror. "Shit."
Brin followed his gaze, slumping in her seat once she saw the same thing he did.
"That's not a good sign."
They were surrounded each and every way.
"Well, get comfortable Henderson we could be here for a while," Elliott clenched his jaw.
___
Okay, maybe there was one thing more that Elliott hated in this moment--being right.
They managed to pull out of traffic by sundown.
"How are you holding up?" Brin lazily looked over at her companion. "You seemed tense back there."
"Fine now," he stared at her, eyes drooping, voice low.
"If you'd like I can take over driving. It's not a big deal," Brin offered, shaking her now asleep foot.
"I can't ask you to do that. Besides," Elliott rubbed the dashboard, "This car is my baby. I'm very protective of it."
"I can see that. Now tell me, how'd all those scratches and dents get on the car?" She placed her hand under her chin prompting him.
"Comes with the territory."
"Sure."
"Looks like it's getting dark. We probably have to turn in somewhere."
Brin's heart thumped a little faster, her palms (one on her thigh, the other holding the passenger side door) were slick with sweat.
She didn't even think of that. It seemed like ever since she had met Elliott she wasn't thinking lately. All her training was beginning to fade or in this case evaporating from her brain.
"Brin what's wrong?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat, inhaling deeply. All she could smell was the woodsy cologne that Elliott was wearing. That didn't help one bit to clear her mind.
"Brin. I'm going to pull in this parking lot. That way we can stretch our legs. Does that work for you?"
"Yeah...y-yeah. Works great," Brin brought the back of her hand up to the middle of her forehead wiping the dampness.
Get it together, Brin.
She unbuckled her seatbelt, peeling herself off the seat, climbing out.
"Careful," Elliott was at her side in mere seconds, stabilizing her. If it wasn't for his quick reflexes, she'd be sprawled onto the pavement courtesy of her sleeping foot.
"Thanks."
Was he always this tall? Brin wondered. He had to have at least three feet on her.
"Not a problem," he waited till she found her balance and leaned away, still within reach in case she needed him.
"Don't tell me I'll have to carry you."
She stared at him, the summer breeze rustling in their hair, noticing his tone was much more high spirited than it had been since Scoops and Shakes.
This boy is going to ruin me.
She gave him a half smile as best as she could.
Her phone rang, and Elliott retrieved it from the car, tossing it to her.
She caught it with ease, her years of playing baseball paying off.
Crouching down into the grass she slid her thumb across the screen, chewing down on the edge of her lips.
"Hello?"
"Brin, what do you mean you're going to Elmsville and who is this friend? Has your father and I met them?"
Catey Henderson wasn't one to mince words. She was calculating, always planning the next move. It was no surprise she'd nabbed the Mayoral election, months after relocating back to Clearview.
With wages stagnant, she, her husband along with their daughter had put down roots in their old stomping grounds.
Brin's eyes found Elliott who was now sprawled out on the car's hood. Steps away sat an open grocery store. Its lights cast a glow on his face. She hadn't realized his eye lashes were so long.
"Brin. I'm waiting," her mother prompted on the other end.
"Mom. I'm with Elliott Mitchell. It's quite a long story--"
"I've got time. Now spill, Brinley May Henderson."
Outside began to reach stiflingly hot temperatures so Elliott dragged Brin to the freezer section of Grocer-Mart.
Opening the freezer door he mouthed "Which one?" Tilting his head towards the frozen dessert section, he lightly pushed her towards the door, letting the crisp stream of air wash over her.
She brought the phone down, clasping a palm over the microphone. "You are a lifesaver. And strawberry please."
He nodded, searching for a treat he himself would like and let Brin return to her phone call.
Brin couldn't tell but her Mom was pinching the bridge of her nose trying to wrap her head around the situation. Her daughter was miles away with a boy she barely knew.
"I know what you're going to say. You're going to tell me to turn around and start heading back to Clearview. Well Mom and Dad, you taught me to own up to my mistakes and to do the right thing. That's what I'm doing," gripping the phone tight, she waited for her parents to erupt.
But it never came.
___