“Brick Starling, did you hear a word I just said?” the girl sitting across the table from me asked. 

Shit. 

I had tuned her out a long time ago, shortly after we had ordered our drinks and she had started prattling on about something to do with an argument she had with her sister before she left her house. Something about a missing shirt… or maybe she had said it was a missing jacket? 

Her name was Tessa Gleason, and our mothers were both members of the same Bible study group. Momma had begged me to take Tessa out to dinner, like she had with almost every other member who had a single daughter of a similar age. And just like every other time, I knew that this one was doomed from the beginning. I felt it in my bones the same way you can feel the dull ache of an old injury on a bitterly cold winter day. This one would crash and burn, just like all the rest of them. 

“Have you been ignoring me this whole time?” she pouted. 

“I’m sorry, I really am,” I confessed to her.  

It was the truth. Tessa was a cute girl. Warm chestnut-colored hair that complemented her eyes well. Still yet, I knew I would forget the color of them the second she was no longer sitting in front of me. I was sure I had caught her gawking at me during several Sunday services. No doubt she had likely been praying that I would ask her to dinner, but that had been a prayer that went unanswered. Technically, this was not supposed to be a date. At least, that’s what Momma had promised me. It was more like a friendly meet and greet, arranged by our respective mothers where we both drove ourselves and there was no expectation of anything to come. 

Just give her a chance, my Momma had pleaded at the time she made her case. 

I had humored her reluctantly but without protests. I had always held a soft spot for my mother and I knew that she was eager for me to find someone. She meant well, but I didn’t exactly share her eagerness. 

Hope’s Bluff was a small town, one of the smallest in the whole state of Georgia. Essentially, I had known all the girls who were my potential options for years now. I had even dated a few of them briefly, but it never led to anything more. I meant no disrespect to any of them, but something was always missing. 

Hell, I didn’t even know what that something was, or how else to describe it. Just something that you felt that you were supposed to feel when you were around that infamous one. 

The One. 

What a load of horseshit that always turned out to be. Almost always, anyway. I believed in love and I knew it existed, but the idea of soulmates was a bit farfetched. It seemed more likely that you could be compatible with different people in different ways. The concept that one person, just the one, had an entire monopoly on that was a pill I could not swallow. Mentally I was already a grumpy old man, and far more cantankerous than my 25 years should have allowed me to be. 

I was sure there could be plenty of likeable things about the brown-eyed girl sitting across from me. Maybe she liked to draw, and she wanted to be a teacher. Maybe she loved dogs, and her favorite color was purple. These were all things that someone would find special and even endearing, but the only thing I felt at that moment was a headache coming on. 

“You have really nice blue eyes,” she told me through batting lashes, in a voice that made me feel uneasy. 

“Oh – uhh, thanks,” I replied a little too quickly and offered her a polite smile. As I shifted positions in the cramped booth, I couldn’t decide whether avoiding eye contact with her now was making things better or worse.

My eyes had always garnered a lot of attention over the years. They were a very light blue, so light that sometimes they almost looked silvery – especially against my dark hair. The contrast was striking, and I had gotten used to catching people staring. 

Tessa cleared her throat and flipped her hair off her shoulder. 

“I was asking,” she began, “if you were planning on going down to the creek next weekend…” 

A hint of frustration had begun to seep into her syrupy voice, but it was abated by her hope of securing any future plans that might include me. I had done my utmost best to politely ignore the girlish stares and flirty compliments she had been giving me since we were seated. I considered what she might be imagining might happen from here and let it play out in my mind. 

Tessa did not seem like the type of girl that was used to hearing ‘no.’ It looked like she had spent a lot of time in front of the mirror before she had finally settled on the perfect outfit. She was likely highly disappointed that I hadn’t returned any compliments to her. 

It wasn’t very gentlemanly of me, I admit – but I knew she would live. 

There would be no invitation for a second date, dinner, or whatever alternative word could be applied. She was clearly way more invested in this than I was, and while I took no pleasure at the thought of upsetting her – I knew no good would come of waiting to do it. I needed to put an end to any hopes she harbored of calling me her boyfriend and rip this band-aid off before the scratch grew into a wound. 

“Brick – the creek…,” Tessa prompted again impatiently, interrupting my thoughts and resolve. “Are you going?” 

It was impossible not to see where this was going, and the glaring warning signs with it. Sugar Creek was the destination of the last party of the summer every year. It was an unofficial event that was attended by mostly everyone under thirty in our small town of Hope’s Bluff, Georgia. 

It was a party that always started off innocent enough in the early hours of the afternoon. But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, the booze would start to flow steadier and the inhibitions would wane. 

I should know. 

I had fallen victim to that scene on occasion and I owned a few of those bad decisions myself. None of which were too serious, mostly they were just stories that got added to the endless list of dumb antics my buddies and I enjoyed teasing each other about. 

And I was not eager to add Tessa to that list in any capacity.  

“Actually, I’ll be working down at the fire station this weekend,” I told her. 

The disappointment that washed over her face instantly made me even more uncomfortable, and I resented being in that position in the first place. I could easily name a hundred other places I would have rather been, anything but exchanging half-hearted small talk with her. And it was nothing against Tessa, that went for all the awkward dates that I had been on the past few years. 

My response to her had not been a lie, although I knew I could likely swap a shift if I only asked. I knew I might even actually have a good time if I did go to Sugar Creek with her. And I knew that maybe – if I sentenced myself to spending enough time with her – I could even end up liking Tessa. 

But I knew none of these were real possibilities, since I would not do any of them. 

Just before Tessa opened her mouth to offer an alternative solution, the fire tones trumpeted loudly from the portable radio at my side. The sirens erupting captured the attention of every person in the restaurant, giving our already uncomfortable interaction an audience. 

I jumped to my feet and struggled not to look as relieved as I felt while I made my apologies to her. I wasn’t sure if I was sorrier for my lack of interest or for leaving her to eat her meal by herself. I was silently thankful that at least she had driven herself, ensuring I held no further inconvenient obligation to responsibly take her home. 

I rushed out the door of the restaurant without looking back, before she could guilt me into making any promises I knew I could not keep. 

I slammed the door to my truck and started the engine, practically racing out of the restaurant parking lot like I half-expected to see her chasing after me. 

I wasn’t sure why I thought she would do that at all, I was sure I was easily her least enthusiastic suitor ever. She may have even thought I was a bit rude at times and didn’t make me proud to admit she may have even been right. Small town or not, even I could easily say Tessa had better options than me. Not that I was hard to look at. I had been told more times than I cared for how attractive I was, but compliments were so useless. I rarely gave them, and I hated receiving them. 

What was anyone ever supposed to say back, besides an awkward ‘thank you?’ Nearly everything about someone’s physical appearance was out of their own control. Were they supposed to pass that compliment along to their parents, and be grateful to them for inheriting the right genetics? 

I did not know the answers to those questions, and I suppose I didn’t really care to figure them out either. Just one more reason why Tessa was better off with someone else. A half dozen names came to mind without even putting too much thought into it. She deserved someone who could give her genuine attention, and that someone was certainly not me. 

The only person I had ever imagined giving that degree of devotion to was someone I had never even met. I damn near laughed at myself, and at my own ridiculousness. 

Yes, I was more than aware of how crazy that sounded, and even more ashamed to admit I had always remembered her name just as well as I remembered her face. 

Aurora Bradley. 

She was the granddaughter of Miss June Bradley, the lady that lived right across the street from the fire station. She lived in Florida, and I had only ever seen her in pictures. At first, I thought it was just one good picture. After all – no one could be that photogenic. But she looked so close to perfect in every single picture, no matter what she was wearing or how she had her hair. 

The highway mile markers blurred past me as I sped towards the destination of the fire call, and I thought of the girl in the pictures with the face that was just as unforgettable as her name.