Blindness(31)

Then it hits me. The Killers—that’s it!





Do you like The Killers?





Send.

I wait, breath held the entire time. When my phone vibrates, I almost jump. I lean forward, chew on the pencil more, write more lyrics, and slide my phone to the end of my knee so I can read over the edge of the desk. If someone were to give me nudge from behind, I’d tip over.





Sure. And ???





I smile instantly. He sent me two words, but they weren’t good or bye—they were an opening. I suck in my lips to hold in a deep breath before I type.





I’m sure you noticed I need more tutoring? Well, there’s an extra ticket to next month’s show in it for you. Interested?





I wait again, my knee bouncing up and down uncontrollably. I bought tickets to the show a few months ago, before I knew Trevor would be gone. I was just going to sell them on Craigslist, make a little extra money. But the thought of going with Cody is far more appealing—as friends, of course.

Minutes pass, and soon it’s been the full half-hour. I note the next round of assignments from the book and slouch slightly in my seat—suddenly worried that I’ll be tackling them on my own, or with the help of YouTube. I feel foolish, and the thought of running into Cody at home is mortifying.

I tuck Cody’s card back into my book, and stuff it and my notes into my backpack, and toss it over my shoulder. I’m almost out of the room when I hear him say my name.

“Charlie?” Cody says, standing by the seat I just left, my portfolio case dangling by its straps from his hand. “You forget something?”

I bite my lip as I smile, mostly to mask how freaking excited I am to see him. I shrug as I walk back to him.

“Thanks, I wonder how far I’d get before I realized I left my entire life’s work here,” I say. He hands it to me, and I tuck it under my arm, my shyness creeping back up on me as I think about my texts.

“So The Killers, huh?” he says, half squinting at me like he’s trying to tell if I’m telling the truth. “You know…I didn’t know that was you texting me at first. It took me a few minutes to figure it out.”

I’m washed with relief. Of course he didn’t know—he doesn’t have my number. Or, at least, he didn’t until now.

“Sorry, I guess I should have said that from the start,” I say. Feeling clever, I hold a finger up and pull my phone from my pocket to send him a text.





This is Charlie, by the way.





As soon as Cody pulls his phone from his pocket and reads my message, he busts out laughing, then he types a quick note back to me while we begin walking from the classroom.





Phew! I was worried for a second there that the girl who always wears the sweater-vest in front of you was hitting on me.





I read his message and giggle. The girl he’s talking about is an older student, maybe in her late 40s, and she’s about as straight-laced looking as they come—bun, glasses chain, pocketbook planner…the whole package. I lean into him with a poke of my elbow to his side, and he reaches around to hug me sideways instinctively, but he actually leaves his arm around me while we continue walking. I know I should wiggle my way out, but I don’t. I leave it there. I leave it there because I like it there. And even though I know it’s not okay, I decide to move the line I’ve barely drawn…just a little.

I’m different with Cody. I’d never send a playful text like that to Trevor. Sure, I could be cute, even a little sexy—but silly? That wasn’t really Trevor’s thing. And I didn’t think it was mine, either. But being around Cody seemed to force me to cut loose, actually relax, and let down some of the EVERYTHING that I was always trying to hold up, carry on my shoulders.

We keep walking to the main parking lot. I see Cody’s truck parked close, and I’m reminded of his disability. He hasn’t been using his chair since that first time I saw him, but I’ve noticed his distinct limp. Sometimes, I think he tries hard to mask it when he’s with me.

When we get closer to his truck, I feel his arm slide from around me, and I’m suddenly cold. I don’t want him to go.

“So, I’m serious about tutoring. Think you’ve got time?” I ask, hoping he’ll offer to get together soon.

He pulls the passenger side door open and tosses his bag in the front seat. He hangs his arms from the top of the truck door while he thinks, and I notice his fingers grip tightly around it, his muscles tensing while he looks off into the distance. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly as he turns to square up with me, like he’s waging the same inner battle I am.

“I’ve got a little time today. But you’ll have to come to the shop with me. That okay with you?” he asks. I’ve honestly been dying to see his shop, ever since the night Gabe told me about it. It feels like it’s some sort of key into Cody’s past.

“Sounds good. I’ve got nothing going on. I’ll just follow you?” I say, starting to walk backward before he stops me, reaching out his arm for my bag and portfolio.

“I’ll just drive. I’ve got some things to do tonight, so I’ll bring you back for your car when we’re done. It’s the opposite direction from home anyhow,” he says, not really asking. I shrug and climb in while he pulls the door completely open for me, and I’m both thrilled and nervous about being stuck with Cody for the next however-many-hours.