The Book Of Love

"Where ya headin' off to, darlin'?" my father asked me as I attempted to slip past him and out the front door. When he caught me, I realized that my plan wasn't very well thought out. Even if I did make it out the front door unnoticed, he still would have heard the truck start up; it was practically impossible not to hear the engine roar to life.

I slowly turned back around and took a few steps towards where he was sitting at the kitchen table building a puzzle. That was his thing--puzzles. When I was younger he would let me build them with him, but I didn't find the same amount of joy in it as my father did. Occasionally, I would sit down and connect a few pieces, maybe chat a little if he was in the mood. But normally, we didn't talk much while he was busy with a puzzle, or even just in general. We side-stepped each other and usually remained quiet. I knew he tried his best to communicate, but for some reason it was just too hard for him. I think half of the reason why was because he never knew what to say; we had nothing in common, complete opposites. But the other half of me believed it was because I resembled my mother. He still kept pictures of her around the house, and sometimes I would see him through the crack of his bedroom door holding a frame while he wept on his bed. He just loved her too much to ever really let her go, I suppose.

"I-I was just going to meet a friend at the diner," I replied. I suppose I could have lied, but I didn't like to. If I did lie, I walked around feeling guilty all day and would eventually tell my father the truth. I never really did anything bad enough to lie about, though.

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at me. "Oh," he sort of smiled. "W-what's her name?" he stumbled out.

I hesitated before I finally spoke, barely twisting my shoe against the wooden floor. "His name's Aaron."

My father's eyebrows raised as he grew extremely curious. "A boy? You.. you're not.. he's not your boyfriend, is he? How old is this Aaron?"

"No, Daddy, he's not my boyfriend," I explained as I lightly rolled my eyes at him. "And he's eighteen, a year older than me."

"Good," he answered before pausing for a long moment. "I'd like to meet this boy sometime," he said, finally getting back to his puzzle pieces.

"I can see if he can meet you later today?"

My dad gave his head a couple of nods. "Sometime soon would be nice. I don't want you hangin' 'round a boy who's no good for you. Be careful, you hear now?"

"I know, Daddy. I'll be back before nightfall, is that alright?"

"Sure, darlin'," he answered, still fishing through little puzzle pieces. I watched him for a moment before he spoke again. "Go on now, I don't want you to be late."

I smiled and was almost to the point where I was in tears. I was so beyond happy that we had spoken more than a few words. I backed away slowly, leaving the house, before I hopped in the truck. I never thought my father would be okay with me spending time with a boy.

~!@#$%^&*()_+

I pulled into a parking space along South Oakes Street and saw Aaron leaning against the brick wall of the restaurant, one boot against the wall, head surveying the street. He walked over to my truck and opened the door for me. I got out and thanked him before we walked to the entrance.

"I've never been here. Is it any good?" I asked him as he followed me in through the door.

"I don't know, I haven't been here, either. I figured we could try something new together," he shrugged.

We found ourselves a booth and slid in so we were across from each other. We picked up a menu and started to scan over the choices. Our waitress came over a few minutes after we sat down.

"How y'all doin' today?" the middle-aged redhead asked.

"Fine, thanks. And you?" Aaron politely answered.

"Great. What can I get y'all to drink?"

"A chocolate milkshake," Aaron smiled. "Linvin' on the edge."

"Just a water, please," I told her.

She gave us both a glance before saying she'd be right back. We didn't really talk much after our waitress left; we were too busy trying to decide what we wanted. A few minutes later, she came back with our drinks and took our orders.

"So," I started. "My dad caught me trying to sneak past him earlier, and I ended up telling him about you. He said he'd like to meet you."

"Yeah?"

I took a sip of my water, nodding my head. "Mmhm. Would today be okay? Or do you have something going on later? You know what, you don't even have to meet him if you don't want to. He's just being protective, and we've only even known each other for a few days," I nervously rambled.

"No, no. I'd love to meet your father. And I don't have anything to do later, so I wouldn't mind introducing myself today. We could go after we leave here--if you'd like, I mean."

I grinned. "Okay."

"My family wants to meet you, too. I told them all about you, well, as much as I know," he sort of laughed. "But we can go some other time, it doesn't have to be today."

"Really? But what if they don't like me? That would just be horrible," I said with a little frown on my lips.

Aaron reached his hand over to mine and rested it on top. His hands were warm and slightly calloused. I figured it must have been from working on the farm every day. Despite the roughness, his skin tingled against my own and made me feel comforted, protected even. "Trust me, they're gonna love you. You don't have anything to worry about. My folks are the nicest people you'll ever meet, and they won't judge you like the kids at school do."

"If you say so.."

"It'll be alright, I promise."

Our waitress, Carol, came back to our table and set down our lunch right after Aaron pulled his hand away from mine. She refilled my water and brought Aaron a glass, also.

I had only taken one bite of my sandwich before we were interrupted by a girl our age. "Aaron! Oh my God! I've missed you so much!" the blonde exclaimed as she took a seat next to him.

"H-hey, Emily," he started, surprised to see her. "Haven't seen you in what, a little over a week since school let out?"

I saw Aaron send me an apologetic smile, but I just looked down then away to other people in the diner. She was gorgeous, drop dead gorgeous. And I wasn't. I was probably smarter than her, but what good did that do? Guys don't care if you're on the honor roll, they only care about how big your chest is and how far you're willing to go. I couldn't compete with her, plain and simple.

"Yeah, well.. I still miss how things used to be." That caught my attention. Apparently, they had a history, and from the looks of it, the subject made Aaron a little uncomfortable. I looked back over to the two of them and saw Aaron look at me.

"This is my ex-girlfriend, Emily. I found her under the bleachers with my best friend after football practice last year," he said in a harsh voice.

"Oh," I said quietly, knowing it wasn't my place to say that she missed out on something great. "Nice to meet you, I'm Johanna."

"Whatever," she responded as she looked me up and down. "Taking in the homeless, Aaron?"

"You need to leave," he told her.

"But, baby..," she whined innocently, reaching over to him and trying to wrap an arm around his torso. I looked away again.

"Get off me, Emily," he repeated, pushing her off of him.

"Fine," she huffed as she slid out of the booth. "You'll come back to me one day, and we'll pick up right where we left off--in your room with our clothes on the floor," Emily finished with a smug smile before walking out the door.

Suddenly, I wasn't very hungry anymore. I started to gather my things, and Aaron placed his hand on mine again, stopping me.

"I'm so sorry. Please, don't listen to anything that she said. I'll never get back together with her. That whole relationship was a mistake. I felt bad for her because people hated her, and I thought I could dig up some good in her."

"Is that why you asked me to go to the fair and come here? Because you 'felt bad' for me because I'm completely alone?" I asked him as I grew slightly angry. My tone was quiet, but I still got my point across.

"No, never," he immediately said. "I mean, I am sorry that all you have is your pa, nobody else," he said before pausing and hesitating a little. "But I was hopin' that I could fit somewhere in your life. I just think that you're so amazin' and so unlike anyone else. I wanna be around you for who you are. I don't wanna try and change you; you're already perfect in my eyes," he softly smiled.

I-I didn't know what to say. I had never been called perfect, not even by my own father--someone who's only suppose to see you as perfect. And Aaron really was as good-hearted as anyone could be. He really did want to show people how good Emily was; I could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. I smiled back at him and watched as his grin grew wider. "I'm sorry for thinking that."

"You don't have to be sorry, Johanna. I can understand why you'd assume that," he said with a small shrug. "Do you wanna to get goin'? Maybe head over to your place if you're still up for it?"

"Yeah, sure. We could eat something when we get there, and then, maybe..," I trailed off, deciding whether or not I should say the last part.

"Maybe what?" he asked as he pulled out his wallet.

"You could stay for dinner, if you wanted. I think my dad mentioned something about steak, and maybe a salad. I don't know if you like that, but he's not such a bad cook. You don't have to if you don't want to, though."

"Do want me to stay?"

I didn't say anything for a moment. I just looked at him, even though I already knew what I wanted. He looked into my eyes, and I felt my heart skip a beat. "Yes," I breathed.

"Good, 'cause I wanna stay," he replied, rising to his feet. "Besides, I love steak. It's my favorite food."

"I don't think I have a favorite food," I shrugged, joining him before pointing back down to the money he'd left on the table. "You know, it was probably only around twenty bucks for everything. You have thirty-five dollars sitting there."

"I know," he replied like it was nothing as we walked out the door. "Maybe a little too generous sometimes."

"I'd say you are, most definitely," I smiled as we opened up the squeaky doors of the Ford. "You're so much more than just generous, though," I mumbled, hoping he wouldn't hear me.