Chapter 3

The engine hummed for a few minutes before Ashley finally heard the voice in her head speak. What am I doing?!, it said, simultaneously amazed and detached by the recent turn of events. Here she was, in the passenger seat of a beat-up Subaru with a man she didn’t even know at the wheel. While his driving was modest and safe, for all she knew he could be taking her to the middle of nowhere to rape her and bury her in a grave where a future estate would be built that she would then haunt as a ghost. Or something to that extent, she thought.

That would be her fault, of course. She had been pushing his buttons pretty hard, and even that, Ashley knew, was an understatement. For all the effort she put into piquing his interest in her, she might as well have raped him with a hand-job and saved some time. Oddly enough, though, that would not have produced the results she was looking for. In fact, something that direct would have ruined it.

It was weird; seeing this stranger, this man, gave her a sudden longing for company, something more than small talk. She knew girls her age wouldn’t start to really go through puberty until a couple years later, but just then, when this man, John, walked up to her and offered his help, a switch went off. She burned, and not the burn she felt while pleasantly experimenting with herself at night; this was a deep burn, unforgiving. It made her heart take precedence over any thought her mind produced. She wanted to be with him. No, she had to be with him. And not with any other man or boy. Him.

She didn’t understand it, either. John wasn’t exactly a hunk of a man. He wasn’t bad, but nothing about him should’ve made her feel that way. He was a little nerdy, no glasses, but he definitely possessed that general lack of coordination with conversations and movements. His suit was lame and his attempt to not stare at her ass was laughable. Though his reaction to her catching him was cute ... and she kind of liked his tie, blowing in the wind like that. It was his tiny cape and he was her superhero, here to save her from another unfortunate consequence of her father’s chronic neglect. John was a tall, lanky Superman disguised like Clark Kent in that stupid, depressing suit. She felt better thinking of him this way; he was, after all, only trying to help. It was her fault that he felt awkward, causing him to drive in that stiff, mechanical way older people find themselves doing once their senses start slowing to a crawl. After grabbing a look at John, however, Ashley knew his senses were more than alert; he was bound to pop like a balloon if his insides tightened any further. She needed to get him relaxed.

“John, thank you for giving me a ride home,” Ashley said, sincerely. “I hope I didn’t interrupt whatever you needed to do-”

“Insurance,” John interjected.

“What?” Ashley asked.

“I sell life insurance ... well, other kinds too, but mainly life. I’m an agent, travel a lot, hence the plain suit,” John picks up his tie when he says this and waves it a few times. Insurance? Ashley thought. That’s kind of like a superhero, I guess. Kind of...

“I’ll cancel my appointment later ... it’s no problem, it’s going to storm anyway. I’m just glad I was there to make sure you got home safe,” he said. Ashley felt her chest heat up a little. I’m glad too, John, Ashley thought.

The sky had darkened a lot once they started leaving. Ashley had told John the extremely long way to get to her house. She wasn’t sure why. Something made her feel like talking to him, without the blatant advances. She saw his pants bulge pretty quickly during her little act and knew it wouldn’t take much to get his heart racing again. She needed more time with him ... for other reasons. Just to be sure.

“Why were you there, anyway? At the school?” Ashley inquired. She really did wonder this. Why was he at the school that late? Nobody else stuck around waiting like Ashley so clearly was.

“Yeah ... that’s ... I was there to pick up my daughter, got caught up in an appointment and...” John faces his hand at his head and flips it, like something fell out. “I forgot.”

“My dad always forgets, too,” Ashley said, recoiling back on the last word. John didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry,” “No, it’s alright,” Ashley and John said at the same moment. They both glanced at each other and laughed. This is the first time Ashley heard John laugh; she liked it. It felt real, unforced. That’s how John was, she realized. Unforced. When he smiled, his face really stood out, like a college boy who developed contemplative wrinkles in his eyes and forehead as he matured, but retained elements of his boyhood. Ashley liked the ones he kept: not the annoying territorial elements like her father or boys at school had, but the good ones, the sweetness boys can possess but only fully develop after learning to cherish life, not destroy it. She knew if a squirrel ran across the road, John would swerve to miss, not swerve to hit. With this in mind, Ashley studied his face again, his soft eyes and his gentle presence. She flushed a little; he looked more handsome than he first appeared.

“Are you alright?” John asked her, not looking. She instantly looked away.

“D ... did your daughter get a ride from someone else?” Good save, Ashley thought. She really did wonder this, too. John did that hand gesture on his forehead again.

“Yeah, I’m an idiot. I also forgot my ex-wife had her this weekend ... we alternate weekends, and I thought this weekend was the second in the month, but I saw her two weekends in a row and...” John realized how boring he must sound. “Just forget it.”

“No, it’s fine, what’s your daughter’s name?” Ashley urged the conversation on, her mind once again losing control over what her mouth said. The more she listened to him, watched him, she felt something else building up inside her. Not the slow burn heating up her chest, though that, too, had worsened. It was ... affection for him. Deep, passionate affection, like she had it for years. Why was she feeling this way?

“Megan ... do you know her? Fifth grade, I think,” he said.

“No ... I don’t think I’ve seen her before,” Ashley responded and she jolted; John gave an unexpected laugh at this. Letting one last laugh draw out, he quickly smeared his face with his right hand and sniffed, little after-laughs still trickling through.

“I don’t really see her either ... most weekends she’s with me she stays at a friend’s house,” John mentioned. A hint of sadness poked through his voice.

“I’m sorry about that,” Ashley said, sincerity still intact. Lightning struck and rain started to fall. It was thick, but still safe to drive in.