Adam's List(49)

I ruffle my wild locks, wishing I had a ponytail holder. Wishing I had some excuse to keep my hands busy. I wasn’t ready to tell him about my dark past this soon. I ball my hands into fists at my sides. “I had a hard time in school last year...I had a kind of mental breakdown.”

He glances over his shoulder, his eyes worried. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

I look away when our eyes meet. “How could you? I never told you about it until now.

Anyway, I guess my parents are protective because they’re worried it will happen again.

But I swear to you, it won’t. I’m okay now.”

It’s not the total truth, but I’m not lying either. If I tell Adam about my stay in the hospital, the drugs I have to take every day to keep from falling into a funk, the reason my mom wants me to check in with her every single day, he may have second thoughts about this trip. He may turn around before we’ve even left the state. And I’m starting to think checking off his list will be as therapeutic for me as it will be for Adam. I’ll be proving not only to my parents but myself that I can function like anyone else.

“Are you hungry?” Adam motions to signs for restaurants as they pass. “I should’ve asked if you grabbed breakfast when I picked you up.”

“I’m good, unless you want something. I brought a little cooler of water and snacks if you’d rather wait a little longer. And you still have two questions left.”

“We don’t have to play anymore.”

I shake my head. “It’s part of the game. Don’t worry, I promise not to be as brutal.”

“Okay. Dogs or cats?”

“Seriously? That’s your question? My preference to four-legged, domesticated creatures?”

“It’s not your turn to ask questions yet. Just tell me. I think it reveals a lot about a person.”

“Well, that’s easy. Dogs all the way. They’re loyal and show their emotions on the outside. Cats stare at you with that creepy look, like they’re constantly plotting against you. My family had a dog while I was growing up. A little white and chocolate cocker spaniel named Bailey. We had to put her down when she started walking in circles. My mom said she’d never have another dog because it was too hard to sit with Bailey while she died. Someday when I have my own house it’s the first thing I’m getting, before furniture.” I twist around to face Adam. “What did that reveal about me? You were a philosophy major, you must have some idea of why a person hates cats.”

“You’re not allowed to ask me any questions when it’s my turn.”

“I never said that.”

“New rule.” He gives me a triumphant look. “Last question. Why did you agree to go with me on this trip?”

I slip my legs underneath me, huffing. “I thought you said you were going to take it easy on me.”

“Never said that either.”

“Man, this is cruel.” I watch the little yellow car pass us on the interstate, a mom driving with two little kids bouncing in their car seats in the back. “When we first met there was...something about you. The more I got to know you, the more I couldn’t wait to see you again. At first I thought you were really crazy to ask me to go on this kind of a trip when I didn’t even know your last name. Then I realized when we’re together, it’s effortless for both of us. We get along without it being forced, without there being any awkward moments. I wanted more of it. I’m not going to lie, a part of me really wanted to get away from my parents, too.”

Adam clears his throat, looking over his shoulder before turning into the passing lane to clear a car that’s half a mile away. “Okay, your turn.”

I cross my arms, smirking. “You know you could’ve taken it easier on me, and maybe I would’ve been nice to you. Just remember you set yourself up.”

He shrugs. “Do what you have to.”

“Okay. How many girlfriends have you had?”

His head swings over to me. “Seriously?”

“You don’t get to ask any questions when it’s my turn,” I remind him.

He looks back to the road, grumbling under his breath.

“What’s that?” I ask, cupping my ear. “Didn’t catch your answer.”

“I’m counting,” he snaps.

And suddenly I’m wishing I didn’t ask. How many girlfriends could he possibly have had that he needs to count?

“I don’t know. Maybe five?”

“Since high school?”

His eyes flicker to mine. “That’s question number two. And no. Since middle school.”

“So I’m not the first girl you’ve pushed away?”