IV
It was after ten when we were finally done packing up Sam’s belongings and putting them in his truck. I took one look at that truck and laughed. Every time I saw the beaten-up old Chevy, I couldn’t keep it together. I was interested in a man who drove an old truck. My parents would probably disown me on principle.
“You ready?” Sam asked, stowing his last box.
“Yeah.”
“Were you laughing at my truck again?”
I couldn’t help but laugh again. “I’m not used to it.”
“Maybe you should drive her.” He offered me the keys.
I quickly backed away. “Oh, dear god, no. I’ll wreck it, and then you’ll be without a home or a car. And I’ll ruin all your things in the accident. We’d better not.”
“One day, I’ll get you to drive my truck.”
“No way.” I shook my head. “That’s not happening.”
He chuckl
