of my hand to pound his chest while he clears his throat.
“You okay?”
“ Fine, you just took me by surprise,” he has some trouble getting the words out while he's still trying to clear his throat. He places his hand back in my lap and I smile. “Want to expand on that for me, babe?”
“ I go to the shooting range about once a week, or I used to. It's been almost two months since the last time I went. I usually spend hours there shooting targets and stuff.”
“ Seriously?”
“ Yeah, I love it.”
“ Monday, we go. I have to see this.” He can't keep a straight face so I pinch him. Hard.
He snatches his hand away, “Ow! What the hell was that for?”
“You think I'm totally going to suck! That I’m just some cutesy little girl that probably hits everywhere but her target. I wanted to hit you, but I knew it would hurt me more than you so I pinched you instead.”
“ What kind of gun do you use?”
Pouting, I shake my head and stubbornly cross my arms, “No way, I'm not telling you any more. You'll only laugh at me.”
“Why, is it a .22?”
“ Ha ha. Not funny. Alright, game on. We go on Monday. Then we'll see who laughs.”
He smiles wickedly at me and I know he's laughing on the inside, so I twist his nipple as hard as I can.
“OW!!” He cries, rubbing circles over it through his shirt, “Stop pinching me.”
“ Stop laughing at me.”
“ I'm sorry but I keep picturing you with a gun and it makes me laugh. I'm going to have to remember a camera.” I pinch him in the same spot. “Aahh! Stop!”
“ You laugh, I pinch.”
“ Fine, lets change the subject.” His face turns serious and I grow weary from it, “Do you think maybe you can't figure out what you want because you're staying inside your box? You were raised to think a certain way, but that doesn't mean you can't find your own path. Life doesn't have to be so black and white.”
I know he's right, but it still goes back to not having a clue where to start, “What do you want out of life?”
Jay shrugs, “Nothing worth talking about.”
“But you do know what you want, right?”
He takes a peek at me out of the corner of his eye, “I thought I did.”
“How did you figure it out?”
He frowns, “I didn't. Life figured it out for me.”
“That's very cryptic and doesn't make much sense to me. I'm not trying to pry, I'm only curious because you seem to know exactly what path you're headed down.”
“ Yeah, I do know.” His voice has become pensive and grave, “I've been headed down the same path since I was eight.”
I look down at my hands holding his and my thumb starts rubbing circles on it. “I'm afraid...” I'm nervous to keep going, but I know Jay won't judge me and I need to say my worst fear out loud with someone. I continue to watch my thumb stroking his hand as I begin to tell him what I've been thinking for the past few weeks, “I'm afraid that the only reason I let him take control over my life is because it was easier than figuring it out for myself. That terrifies me. That's not the kind of person I want to be.”
“Baby, look at me,” he nudges me with his arm and I raise my head. He shifts from watching the road to looking at me, “You aren't that person. He took advantage of the kind of person you are and used it against you. What happened doesn't make you a weak person. If anything, it makes you stronger than most. Don't do that,” he nudges me again when I shake my head and look back at our hands. “Don't dismiss what I said because you don't think it's true. You had the strength to walk away. You need to give yourself credit for that instead of degrading yourself over what he did to you.”
Jay puts on his blinker and turns into the old raceway that hasn't been used since they built a bigger one over a decade ago.
“What are we doing here?”
“ You'll see.”
We drive up near the track and I see two rows of cars with their hoods open, facing each other, probably ten
“You okay?”
“ Fine, you just took me by surprise,” he has some trouble getting the words out while he's still trying to clear his throat. He places his hand back in my lap and I smile. “Want to expand on that for me, babe?”
“ I go to the shooting range about once a week, or I used to. It's been almost two months since the last time I went. I usually spend hours there shooting targets and stuff.”
“ Seriously?”
“ Yeah, I love it.”
“ Monday, we go. I have to see this.” He can't keep a straight face so I pinch him. Hard.
He snatches his hand away, “Ow! What the hell was that for?”
“You think I'm totally going to suck! That I’m just some cutesy little girl that probably hits everywhere but her target. I wanted to hit you, but I knew it would hurt me more than you so I pinched you instead.”
“ What kind of gun do you use?”
Pouting, I shake my head and stubbornly cross my arms, “No way, I'm not telling you any more. You'll only laugh at me.”
“Why, is it a .22?”
“ Ha ha. Not funny. Alright, game on. We go on Monday. Then we'll see who laughs.”
He smiles wickedly at me and I know he's laughing on the inside, so I twist his nipple as hard as I can.
“OW!!” He cries, rubbing circles over it through his shirt, “Stop pinching me.”
“ Stop laughing at me.”
“ I'm sorry but I keep picturing you with a gun and it makes me laugh. I'm going to have to remember a camera.” I pinch him in the same spot. “Aahh! Stop!”
“ You laugh, I pinch.”
“ Fine, lets change the subject.” His face turns serious and I grow weary from it, “Do you think maybe you can't figure out what you want because you're staying inside your box? You were raised to think a certain way, but that doesn't mean you can't find your own path. Life doesn't have to be so black and white.”
I know he's right, but it still goes back to not having a clue where to start, “What do you want out of life?”
Jay shrugs, “Nothing worth talking about.”
“But you do know what you want, right?”
He takes a peek at me out of the corner of his eye, “I thought I did.”
“How did you figure it out?”
He frowns, “I didn't. Life figured it out for me.”
“That's very cryptic and doesn't make much sense to me. I'm not trying to pry, I'm only curious because you seem to know exactly what path you're headed down.”
“ Yeah, I do know.” His voice has become pensive and grave, “I've been headed down the same path since I was eight.”
I look down at my hands holding his and my thumb starts rubbing circles on it. “I'm afraid...” I'm nervous to keep going, but I know Jay won't judge me and I need to say my worst fear out loud with someone. I continue to watch my thumb stroking his hand as I begin to tell him what I've been thinking for the past few weeks, “I'm afraid that the only reason I let him take control over my life is because it was easier than figuring it out for myself. That terrifies me. That's not the kind of person I want to be.”
“Baby, look at me,” he nudges me with his arm and I raise my head. He shifts from watching the road to looking at me, “You aren't that person. He took advantage of the kind of person you are and used it against you. What happened doesn't make you a weak person. If anything, it makes you stronger than most. Don't do that,” he nudges me again when I shake my head and look back at our hands. “Don't dismiss what I said because you don't think it's true. You had the strength to walk away. You need to give yourself credit for that instead of degrading yourself over what he did to you.”
Jay puts on his blinker and turns into the old raceway that hasn't been used since they built a bigger one over a decade ago.
“What are we doing here?”
“ You'll see.”
We drive up near the track and I see two rows of cars with their hoods open, facing each other, probably ten
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