“It’s a surprise,” I said.

I noticed out of the corner of my eye her head fall back against the headrest.

“I hate surprises,” she groaned.

I glanced back over at her.

“No, you don’t,” I said.

I watched then as her head quickly snapped back up and her eyes caught mine.

“When did you become the expert of me?” she asked.

“An expert?” I asked, making sure she caught my teasing stare before I returned my eyes to the gravel road.

“Oh, that was just recently,” I said.

A wide, devious smile danced its way to my face.

“They give that title to ya after ten years of study,” I said.

She tossed her head back and made a sound that resembled either surprise or sarcasm — I wasn’t sure.

“Ten years of study, huh?” she asked.

I found her stare again and gently smiled.

“And they wonder why I’m not so good at math,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

Her laughter filled the cab. I loved her laugh. I wished sometimes that I could secretly record it and play it back when I needed it the most — like when the school counselor was asking me what I wanted to do with the rest of my life or in the middle of a set of walls during basketball practice or something. Hell, I’d play it back when Mrs. Ritter was on her second piece of chalk in English class too. I was trying to force back a wide smile fighting its way to my lips at the thought when I felt her eyes on me.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“What’s what?”

I glanced over at her. Her eyes were already fixated on a spot behind the wheel.

“That photo in your dashboard,” she said.

I took a quick glance at the dash and then noticed the photo propped up to the right of the speedometer.

“Oh that?” I asked, first eyeing the photo and then her.

She sent me a cocked, sideways smile and then slowly nodded her head.

“That would be Julia Austin Lang — the object of my studies,” I proudly said.

Her crooked smile instantly straightened.

“I’ve made your dashboard,” she said.

I glanced over at her again and caught her happy expression. I couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“Jules, dear, the center of my dashboard’s nothin’,” I said, sending her a wide grin. “You made the center of my life years ago.”

I could tell she was trying her damnedest to muster up a sarcastic glare, even as her eyes grew softer by the second.

“Get over here, pretty girl,” I said, pushing up the center console and gesturing her to my side.

I returned my eyes to the road and then, seconds later, felt her body collide gently into mine. Then, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and squeezed her as close as I could to me.

“We’re almost there,” I said, as I felt her head fall against my chest.

I could get used to this.

It was another minute before we crossed over an old creek slab and landed at the edge of civilization. The gravel road pretty much ended there. I pulled to the side so that Lou pointed toward a big, clover field, and I turned off the ignition.

Then, I looked down and found Jules already eyeing me up with those green jewels of hers. And I just knew her smile was asking me what the hell I was doing taking her to a dark, clover field in the middle of the night.

“I swear my intentions are pure,” I said to her, with a soft side-smile.

She laughed into my chest.

“Come on,” I said, leaning into the door. “It’s outside.”

She hesitated but then followed my lead and scooted back over to her door and pulled on the handle. Then, I switched off the lights, and suddenly, the world around us was pitch-black, and I had to stop for a second to let my eyes readjust.

“Will,” she squealed, laughing. “I can’t see a thing.”

“Good,” I said. “Close your eyes and just wait there.”

I rushed to the front of Lou and slid my hand against the grille to feel my way over to the passenger’s side.

When I reached Jules, I took her hand and led her back to the front of the truck. Then, I put a hand on each side of her hips and squared up to her. I couldn’t really see her face — just its outline — but it didn’t stop me from trying. I held her like that for a second, soaking up the way her little hips felt in my hands and how it felt to have her body so near to mine. Then, before it could get awkward, I hoisted her up onto the hood in one, swift motion.

She squealed again.

“Will, what are you doing?” she asked. “Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Now, don’t move.”

I stepped to the side and hoisted myself onto the hood next to her. Then, I slid back and brought her hips back with me, until we were both resting our backs against the windshield, side by side.

“Okay,” I whispered into her ear. “You can open them.”

My eyes had readjusted, so I could see her face go from blank to wide-eyed in the seconds that it took her to soak up the scene in front of us — all around us. I watched as her lips turned up and her green eyes sparkled the way they did when she was excited about something.

“Wow,” she exclaimed. “It’s beautiful.”

Above and all around us, dashes of light danced against a black background littered with thousands of tiny stars and a sea of fireflies. It was like our own, little light show. And the crickets and tree frogs were our little, country symphony. I took in a deep breath of fresh air and then rested my head back against the windshield.

“You like it?” I asked.

Her eyes left the lights and found my stare.

“I love it,” she said, resting her head on my shoulder.

She was quiet then. I guessed she was watching the fireflies dance in the distance. I, on the other hand, was watching her and the way her fingers played with the edge of my tee shirt at my side and the way her long hair fell in pieces across her shoulders, which had already been tanned by the pre-summer sun.

“So, you really never thought about singing?” she asked, while resting her head back against the windshield again.

Her voice surprised me a little and helped to snap me out of my trance.

“Singing?” I asked.

I turned my face toward hers.

“You know, as a career,” she said.

I chuckled to myself and lowered my head.

“Nah, it’s not for me,” I said.

“Then, what would you like to be if you could be anything?” she asked.

I sat there for a second and thought about it.

“You know, I really don’t know,” I said. “I figure it’ll come to me someday, though.”

She smiled.

“It will,” she said, reassuring me.

“What about you?” I asked. “I’m sure you’ve got plans to take over the world.”

I noticed her smile. It seemed bashful.

“I want to be a lawyer,” she said.

“A lawyer?” I asked.

I know I must have sounded a little surprised.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “I’ve wanted to be the same thing since I was eight.”

“That’s pretty young,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”

She paused before she continued.

“There was just this guy who helped my dad a long time ago, and I guess I just decided right then and there that I wanted to be whatever he was and help someone else too.”

Her eyes traveled off into the heavens somewhere. She seemed to be lost in another time.

“You think it would have been the doctor, but I guess I never saw the doctor then,” she continued. “It was the lawyer that was there by the time I had gotten there.”

My eyebrows instinctively furrowed.

“What happened to your dad?” I asked.

My words seemed to have snapped her back to the present because her eyes darted back to mine, and a soft smile returned to her face.

“Why did you never ask me out when we were younger?” she asked.

I paused but then smiled.

“I did,” I said, “in my head, a thousand times.”

“What?” she asked, starting to laugh.

“It’s true,” I said.

She lifted her head slightly from the windshield and caught my eye. Her lips were parted, but a smile lingered on them.