I rolled up to Easton house with my wavy hair spilling down my back, a layer of mascara to make my already long and dark lashes more intense. For the first time in a while I felt cute and didn't feel the stomach knots that came with it. I wasn't going to have some creep leering at me all day, wasn't going to have half a dozen men come up to me and ask me if I wanted to get a drink. 

I was just going out with a guy because I wanted to.

"Hey cutie," I called out of my window when I parked in his driveway.

Like I expected, his cheeks flamed and a huge smile spread across his cheeks. Though I hadn't thought it was possible, he looked even more adorable in black jeans and an orange plaid shirt.

"Am I dressed properly?" he asked, giving me a little spin.

"Mmm, you might be looking a little too handsome, but other than that, you're perfect."

Easton's face went completely red and seeing his reaction only made me feel warmer inside. I had read that men often weren't complimented on their appearance. While girls were always told how beautiful their smile was, how pretty their eyes were, men rarely got any appreciation. And it was clear that Easton needed his own hype man and I would do everything I could to make him feel desirable.

"Do you want to take my truck? It'll save some gas for you," he suggested, still looking a little sheepish.

"Do I get to drive?"

"If you want to."

"Then let's go."

Before Eddy, I hadn't cared much about cars. Hell, before Eddy, I hadn't cared much about anything. But my impulsive nature seemed to come from the god whose blood flowed in my veins. Like Poseidon, I had been irritable, quick to anger, and selfish. If I had had the ability to slam a trident into the ground and cause an earthquake I certainly would have.

But, with Eddy in my life, I straightened out. As I grew fond of him, I discovered that one of the only ways to spend time with him was bent under a hood, staring at an engine. I became quite well versed in cars- beyond just hotwiring the old ones- though I would certainly never be as good as him.

I was pretty excited to drive Easton's truck and was even more delighted to find that the tall vehicle handled well in corners, even at decent speeds. The suspension was a little stiff, but didn't affect the on-road drive so much that I felt it took away from my experience. I watched my date wince when I came into turns a little fast or when I pushed the throttle harder than he would have, but he never complained. 

"Can I ask you something?" Easton ventured while I was still knee deep in thought, obsessed with the truck.

"Sure, but I might struggle with finding an answer."

"How did you learn Gaelic? And why?"

"Gaelic?" 

"The language you were singing in the river, before you saw me. I recognized it immediately. I had to learn a fair amount of it while I was growing up. It's part of the education system," he elaborated.

I had no idea what to tell him. Up until he had told me, I had no real clue. Part of me thought it was Greek because that seemed to be the only thing that made sense. It was something the water bestowed upon me, because when I was high and dry, I couldn't conjure up a single syllable that I had sung. 

"I don't know," I admitted, suddenly feeling so tired of lying.

"You don't know." His voice was full of disbelief.

"No."

I don't know if I had annoyed him with my inability to answer, as if I made him think that I was lying, or if he just didn't know what to say back. Either way, the conversation died and I no longer felt so excited about driving his truck.

One minute ticked by before Easton started squirming in the silence.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he began, sounding a little shy all over again. "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"I know. You didn't upset me. I have just been unsafe for a really long time and it's hard to know how to share and how much to keep hidden."

"You can tell me anything, I would never judge you for what you have done or anything that has been done to you. I know first hand that we don't always control our environments and sometimes we make bad choices to survive."

The words were so honest that my eyes darted to him, leaving the boring country roads for a moment. But he wasn't watching me anymore. His head was tipped against the window and his expression was distant. 

"I lost my mother," I blurted. I don't know why I said it. And I didn't dare add that I had watched her die or that I was the reason that she passed away. But I just felt like he needed to know something, anything, about me. "I haven't seen my father in years. Or anyone from my family."

"What about that man you live with?"

"Eddy took me in after I broke into his barn."

Easton didn't blurt out a thousand apologizes or stop meeting my eyes. He didn't glance away with nothing to say and he didn't fill the air with a similar story to try and put us on an even playing field. He just nodded his head and said, "I'm sorry that you had to go through that. Thank you for telling me."

The rest of the drive was quiet. When we arrived at the little town, Easton's eyes lit up.

"I didn't think a county fair would be your thing," he teased.

"I'm all about cliche dates," I replied. "I hope you have a strong stomach because I love anything that twirls and flips."

I paid for our entry into the fair and Easton was immediately pulling me towards the mini donut stand. We started our day with cinnamon sugar and hot coffee. Well, hot coffee for me and hot chocolate for him. And once we finished eating his hand was in mine. I didn't have time to fixate on how perfectly our hands fit because he was immediately pulling me towards our first ride: Helter Skelter.

I was merciless in bumper cars, slamming into him with all my might. He could chase me, but never caught up to me before children slammed into him from all sides. I kept taunting with him, nudging him sideways, watching him get jerked about. He got his revenge on me, making sure I was on the outside of the cart for the scrambler. His bony hip pressed into me as the force pushed up both against the side of the car, mushed between Easton's big body and the metal.

Lunch was comprised of corn dogs and pops. Easton seemed impressed when I could eat as many corn dogs as he could. And I was impressed when he suggested the tilt-a-whirl right after. He certainly wasn't shying away from the threat of vomiting and I was more than willing to follow along.

I heard him laughing while I screamed so hard I cried on the drop of doom. When we came off a spinning ride and he stumbled a little, I gave him an extra shove. When I begged and pleaded to go on the swing ride he complied. I turned around to face him, beaming like I had just found the gates of heaven. He was waiting, phone in hand to take a picture. 

Every laugh that left my lips was genuine. Each tease felt lighthearted and goodnatured, like I knew he could do no wrong. I wasn't scheming my way into his wallet and when I paid for each and every purchase, I was rewarded with the feeling that I was actually taking care of him. At the end of the night, with a full stomach, I felt content, my head resting on his shoulder as we sat on a lazy, creaking Ferris wheel. 

His hand found mine and a smile graced my lips. I tilted my head down, wanting to see how beautifully our hands matched each other. But, between my narrow fingers, I saw scarred skin covering his knuckles.

I opened my mouth to ask him about it, but he cut me off. 

"Does this mean you might consider sticking around for a while?" he wondered.

"Well, I wasn't really considering it, but this handsome guy convinced me that little mountain towns might not be so bad."

"So you aren't going to be running away again?"

"No, Easton. I don't think I could run away from you ever again."

~~~Question of the Day~~~

What "old people" thing do you do?