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“Just checking.”
“And actually, I do. My two best buds and I try to go on a camping trip every year.”
Her gaze drifted up and down his button up shirt and settled on his shoes for a moment before moving back to his eyes. “Camping, really? I wouldn’t have suspected you to be the outdoorsy type.”
“Didn’t you ever learn not to judge a book by it’s cover?” he asked.
She tilted her head, her long brown hair falling over her shoulders. “I did, but as you already know, I’m really good at figuring people out, and you don’t strike me as the sleeping in a tent type of guy.”
“What do I strike you as then?”
“The roughing it in a four-star accommodation with room service kind of guy.”
He laughed. “That couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Good to know,” she said, meeting his gaze a humorous smile on her face. “I hate that kind of guy.”
Their eyes stayed locked as if an invisible force was keeping them there and neither were attempting to fight against the resistance. A minute later—or maybe longer; it was hard to tell—Ella cleared her throat and broke the connection. She fidgeted with the small golden heart that dangled from her necklace, rubbing the shiny metal between her thumb and forefinger.
“Have you ever been camping?” he asked, not wanting the little time they had left together to get lost to silence. He was enjoying her company and whether she knew it or not, she was keeping his mind occupied. Before he got on this bus he couldn’t stop wondering about how it would be to stay with his grandfather—a man he only knew through letters and phone calls.
“Once,” Ella said, “when I was seven. And we went all out. I mean we totally roughed it. My dad set up a tent in the backyard and ran an extension cord from the house to the tent.”
“What did you need an extension cord for?”
“The TV of course.”
He laughed. “A TV?”
“And a VCR. I mean how else were we supposed to watch Free Willy?”
“Now that’s roughing it. I’m surprised you survived to talk about it.”
“It was pretty bleak, but somehow we managed,” she said.
He smiled, appreciating the joking tone in her voice and the way playfulness highlighted her face. They fell into easy conversation, and before he knew it the bus was pulling into the depot.
She leaned down, picking up her bag and placing it on her lap. The bus came to a stop and she turned toward the aisle. A couple hours ago he couldn’t wait for his hellish day of travel to be over and now he didn’t want it to end.
People began filing off the bus, and he grabbed his stuff and stepped into the aisle. Ella pushed the strap of her purse onto her shoulder and he nodded to it.
“Is that all you have?” he asked.
“This is it.”
“You travel light.”
She shrugged. “It was only a day trip.”
The aisle cleared, and with no one else in the seats behind them, Lucas stepped away from the seat and stood back to let Ella go first. She slid out from the little world they’d created on the ride, and he followed her off the bus.
“Well,” she said, turning to him, “it was nice meeting you.”
“Likewise.”
“Okay then.” She waved awkwardly and spun around. An unexpected rush of panic filled him, and he called after her. She turned back to him, her long brown hair floating around her.
He moved toward her, knowing that if he let her walk away he would forever question his stupidity for letting her slip out of his life.
