So it goes
He can't keep his wild eyes on the road
Takes me home
Lights are off, he's taking off his coat
I say I heard that you been out and about with some other girl
Some other girl
He says, what you've heard it's true but I
Can't stop thinking about you and I
I said I've been there too a few times.
Lights flashed by as we drove through the night towards the coast and my grandparents' beach house on Cape Cod, three hours away. It was a second long decision but an easy one. Plus I knew where they hid the key.
I had curled up in the front seat, his leather jacket warming my bare legs, just staring at him as he drove, soaking him in. The silhouette of his face against the night, his strong fingers tapping the steering wheel, his knee bouncing up and down nervously. He was actually nervous. I smiled to myself. He hadn't touched me since the single fast but fierce kiss through the passenger window when he stopped to get gas and cigarettes.
His eyes flicked back and forth from my face to the road. He pulled a cigarette from the carton with his teeth and lit it while driving. With the cigarette in his left hand on the wheel, he nonchalantly draped his right hand in my lap. I didn't place mine in his but traced letters into his palm with my fingernail. He shivered but pretended to ignore me. Man of little words. I didn't want to be the first to break the silence.
The rhythm of the car and sounds of traffic rushing by us on the interstate put me in a light sleep, his hand still in my lap.
I woke off and on, every time having to remind myself where I was and who I was with. Once I did, I drifted back off. Safe. I woke once to his hand on the back of my neck, a solid but steady weight. Another I heard his voice in the night. "Luke, it's me. I know you won't get this until morning. I won't be home for a few days. Rory's with me. Tell Lorelai. And don't worry. We'll be home soon."
Nothing sounded better to her in her subconscious drifting than the words 'Rory's with me'.