Chapter 32: Happy Meals and Second Chances

Saturday rolled around and so did the tires on Tyler's car, all the way to my driveway. The sound of the doorbell rang throughout the house, waking both me and Luke up. We were up until three last night and by the time he decided it was time to go to sleep, there was no point in him walking five feet back to his house.

"Who is that?" Luke mumbled, rubbing his eyes irritability.

"I don't know," I yawned, snuggling deeper into my pillow.

Luke sat up. "Want me to get it?"

I sighed heavily. "No, I should get it. It's my house."

"All right. If you insist." Then he tugged the covers away from me, smacking his lips.

When I heard the insistent ringing echo throughout the house again, I willed myself out of my bubble of warmth and padded to the door. I passed Dad's room on the way. He was snoozing the day away, his sporadic snores and heavy breathing causing me to snicker. Without bothering to check the peephole in the door, I haphazardly threw it open to reveal an unapologetic looking Tyler.

The sight of him made me feel miffed. My body  stiffened instantly. "What are you doing here?"

"Look, I know you're probably mad at me."

"Mad? Mad? You stood me up, Tyler."

"Summers, look, I can--"

"My name is Charlotte," I hissed.

"And your last name is Summers. Anyways, identity crisis aside, I came to explain why I wasn't here yesterday. I didn't stand you up, not really."

"Is this explanation going to be long?" I asked, tapping my foot impatiently and rubbing the goosebumps on my arms in an attempt to generate friction and heat. "You know what? Just come in."

I ushered him into the living room after gesturing for him to stomp the snow off of his shoes. He situated himself on the chair opposite the loveseat. I snatched the blanket off of the arm of the couch, shook it open, and covered myself with it. The cold, harsh fabric briefly scratched against my skin. "All right. Explain yourself."

"I was in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I really don't want to talk about it, so can we just leave it at that?"

"Tyler, I was waiting for hours."

"And I'm sorry about that, but I had more...pressing matters to attend to."

"Tyler," I sighed, "are you still in trouble?"

"I think I've handled it."

I really wanted to know what sort of trouble he had gotten himself into. Knowing Tyler, it was probably risky business, dealing with drug dealers or something like that. According to books I had read, it was safe to assume that whatever problems he had would be passed onto me. I would get caught up in whatever danger he was facing. The question was whether or not I wanted to embrace the exhilaration  that came with being with Tyler or if I wanted to drop him like a hot potato like I had done with Alec and Beckett. While I wasn't suicidal and I enjoyed living, people became tangled in these sort of things all the time. It's what life was: sorting out the complications even if you've brought them on yourself.

"All right. I trust you."

Saying those three words, rather just one because  I used "I" and "you" on a daily basis,  to him might prove to be another mistake I was making, but I did trust him. As far as I knew, he never lied to me. In fact, he was the only one who was brutally honest with me, aside from Ian's outburst earlier. He didn't care if my feelings got hurt, just as long as he was able to speak his mind.

"That's not a smart idea, Summers. Oh, I'm sorry. Charlotte."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shut up."

"I want to make it up to you."

"And how are you going to do that?"

"I still want to go to the mountains if you're up for it. I'll make sure to stay out of everyone's way that day."

I felt a little guilty knowing that Luke was upstairs waiting for me while I was discussing a date with Tyler. "You better be in the driveway when I look out."

He smiled. "I'll get there an hour early if I have to."

"Maybe ten minutes earlier. It's borderline stalkerish if you get here any earlier."

"Understood. How about tonight at seven?"

"Only if you'll be here."

He looked at me with his smoldering dark eyes and said "I will" as if it were a promise. With a head nod and brief "goodbye," he left the house leaving me curiously clueless about his whereabouts the previous night.

***

I peeked out the window at 6:50, and sure enough, Tyler was sitting patiently in his car. His dome lights were on and I could see him periodically checking the clock. I wondered how long he had been waiting. Being the impatient person I was, I shoved my arms into the sleeves of my puffy jacket as quickly as I could. I pulled a knit hat over my ears, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and inserted my hands into my mittens. "Bye, Dad!"

"Have fun, kiddo. Be home by eleven."

I slid into the passenger seat of his car. "You're early."

"I could say the same thing to you," Tyler replied.

"I saw you through the window."

"Me too."

"What?"

"You looked out the window and I saw you."

I punched his arm. "You are such a creeper."

"What? It's not like I'm watching you sleep. You were looking for me, were you not?"

"I was. Anyways, you better be careful driving up to the mountains. It could be icy and I think there might be a snowstorm tonight. I should've checked. Hold on, I can do that now."

"Would you relax? Trust in my driving skills, Summers. Even if there was a storm coming, it wouldn't affect us."

"Driving up a mountain with snow coming at you and ice on the roads won't affect us?"

"It's not like we're going to the top of the mountain."

"We're just staying at the bottom? Well that's no fun."

"Not that bottom. It's in between. You'll like it, Charlotte."

"What?" I poked his muscular arm. "Is it like your secret spot?"

"One of them," he answered aloofly. He glanced over at me. "Don't be so surprised, Summers."

"You just seem too cool for a secret hideout."

"You think I'm cool?"

I shrugged.

"I wouldn't describe myself as cool," Tyler said. "Maybe alluring in an enigmatic way."

I laughed in agreement. "That's exactly what you are."

"Are you saying that people don't flock to me because of my personality? I'm appalled, Charlotte, I really am."

"They might if you actually opened up."

"I opened up for you, didn't I?"

I nodded once. "You did. Thank you for doing so. It means a lot."

"Now don't be getting all soft and mushy on me."

"That sounds disgusting."

"What, soft and mushy?"

The image of an old woman's saggy and doughy stomach popped into mind. I wanted it gone as soon as possible.

I shivered. "Yes!"

"Soft and mushy. Soft and mushy. Soft and mushy," he chorused obnoxiously.

After suffering countless minutes with an annoying Tyler (I'd never thought I'd say that), we arrived at our destination. The journey was somewhat frightening for me. I grabbed onto whatever surface my fingers touched first whenever we went over a bump or I felt that Tyler was going to hit something. He had a habit of not braking until the very last minute. There was a lump in my throat and I predicted I would suffer a heart attack due to someone's reckless driving. Whether or not it would be Tyler was uncertain; I just knew it would be my downfall.

"It's dark," I pointed out.

"That's what happens during the winter."

"I know. So what did you have planned for us?"

"I know how much girls like picnics, at least that's what Google says, so I packed one."

"You, Tyler Bradshaw, packed a picnic in January?"

"I can be romantic." He reached into the back and pulled out two McDonald bags and handed me one. "Bon appétit!"

I received the bag with a goofy smile upon my face. "This is your idea of a romantic picnic? Fast food?"

"It's better than the alternative."

"And what would that be?"

"Having sex or having food that I cooked."

"You can't cook?"

"I mean, I can, but not fancy roasts and garlicky mashed potatoes."

"I wasn't expecting a roast and potatoes! Maybe something like a sandwich."

"And you have a sandwich. Look in the bag, Summers. I even splurged and had them throw in a Happy Meal  toy. No need to thank me."

I pulled out a plastic looking toy, unsure of what franchise it came from. "Thanks, Tyler. But you shouldn't have!"

"It was nothing."

Inside my bag was a Big Mac, a double cheeseburger, a McChicken, and a large fry. "Did you get any drinks?"

"One large chocolate milkshake."

"Just one?"

"With two straws, of course."

"You've watched your movies."

He scoffed. "Well I didn't read the books."

Once we finished eating, he convinced me to go on a walk with him. It was cold, icy, and I couldn't see anything but the stars in the sky. "I suppose now you're going to name one of the constellations."

He snorted. "I'm not Nicholas Sparks."

"You know who Nicholas Sparks is?"

"I am surrounded by females. Of course I know who he is. Wouldn't it be ironic if he was single?"

"He'd be a hopeless romantic who just needs to get laid."

He laughed. "Maybe I should write a book for people like him."

"I bet he gets laid every time he publishes another one."

"They're like babies."

"Except you don't have to went thirty years to get money from them. Writing a book seems really appealing now. Put words down on a piece of paper and the dough rolls in."

"You're forgetting that you need to find a publisher and, I don't know, have a decent plot unless you want to write nonfiction."

"You're such a downer, Tyler," I remarked.

He shrugged. "Just realistic is all."

Our walk lasted a whopping seven minutes. The cold was beginning to penetrate through my barrier of warmth, so I demanded that we went back to where there was heat. Once in the car, we decided that he should take me home. It was ten o'clock and Dad would be pleased with Tyler the Farmer.

I was expecting him to make a move on me, but the much anticipated kiss never happened. There was no hug involved either; apparently those were reserved for emotional moments only. I said thank you, smiled, and headed into my house. I wasn't sure if I'd call the date a success, but it certainly kept me thinking about him throughout the rest of the night.