I looked at the helmet and shook my head. “I told you I was terrified of motorcycles…And I’m scared of surprises too... Can you tell me where we’re going and let me meet you there? I can ask Joan to take me.”
“Are you normally this frustrating?” he smiled.
“If I say yes, will you let me meet you there?”
“No,” he laughed. “I think that would take the fun out of the surprise location.”
He spent fifteen minutes telling me about the different parts of the motorcycle—the spokes, the suspension, the dual engine—and while I was bending down to look at the steel spikes underneath the motorcycle’s body, he promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.
“It’s not you,” I took another step back. “My cousin got hurt really badly on one of these before…”
I shuddered at the thought of Kate falling off a motorcycle and severely twisting her leg when she was twelve years old. She shattered her knee and had to wear a leg brace for over a year.
“I promise you won’t get hurt,” he reached for my hand and patted the motorcycle seat.
I stepped forward, but then I stepped back and shook my head again. I wanted to trust him, but fear overrode all my thoughts.
I tossed the pink helmet back to him and whispered that I was sorry, that I was honestly too scared to even try.
“You know what? I’m sorry,” he got off the bike and removed his helmet. He placed the helmets in the cargo hold and walked over to me. “I do remember you saying that you were scared of motorcycles. I guess I didn’t understand how scared you were…”
He took my hand and kissed it. He led me across the parking lot, to the other side of the hotel, where a bright red Ferrari convertible was sitting all alone.
“I bought it earlier today just in case this happened,” he looked into my eyes as he opened the passenger door. “Is this better?”
I pinched him and slipped into the car.
The Ferrari flew down the back roads of the city.
The last leaves of autumn had begun to fall, and the lush trees that dotted the highway stood familiarly stoic. Sprawling green lawns and lakes were up ahead, and despite the early morning’s gray clouds and rain, the sky was bright blue.
I kept asking Ethan where we were going but he would only smile. I emphasized that I really hated surprises, that if he gave me a hint I would be much more relaxed, yet he simply ignored my requests and laughed.
After two hours of driving, the car came to a stop and I looked outside.
When did this get here?
Orange-leaved trees stood on opposite ends of a dark black pathway that was covered in red and yellow rose petals. My mom and I had gone on a long drive past this part of town a week ago and the pathway and petals weren’t there then.
“This looks pretty simple, right?” he helped me out of the car.
We walked hand in hand down the black and petaled path, past the orange leaved trees, past a picnic blanket and basket that was set for two.
“Isn’t that picnic for us?” I looked at him. “Don’t you think we should eat our dinner first?”
“You’re used to being in control all the time aren’t you?” he smirked.
YES!
“No…”
We continued to walk down the path until we reached a lake, where a small wooden dinghy was waiting in the water.
“Ladies first,” he reached for my hand and held the little boat steady with his foot.
He released the boat from its post and sat down across from me, smiling as he rowed the oars back and forth.
“I rowed for my college team,” I sighed. “I could’ve helped, you know? We could’ve gotten to wherever we’re going ten times faster.”
“Selena, you did not row in college.”
So he can see through me…
We stopped at another clearing, and after he tied the dinghy to a post, he took a black scarf from his back pocket.
“I need you to put this on,” he handed it to me.
“Why?”
“So you are this frustrating,” he laughed and tied the scarf around my eyes. “Can you see anything?”
“No…”
“Good,” he clasped my hand. “I’m glad you finally let me take you out today.”
“Is this the last time I’ll be seen alive?”
“Shhh,” he kissed my cheek.
We walked in silence for a long time. Occasionally he would tell me to watch my step or to stop, but he didn’t initiate any further conversation.
I tried to guess my surroundings by flailing my arms about from time to time, but after losing my balance and falling forward a couple times, I gave up trying to figure it out.
The smell was familiar—newly cut grass, wet leaves, and a freshwater lake—but there were too many parts of Arkansas that fit that description.
“Stop. We’re here,” he let my hand go and slowly moved the blindfold away from my eyes.
I blinked over and over to make sure that what I was looking at was real.
In front of me was a massive white-sanded beach, but we didn’t have white-sanded beaches in Arkansas—at least I’d never seen one. Especially one like this: The sand went on for miles and miles. There were tons of tropical palm trees—definitely not indigenous, an array of bright blue beach chairs near the “shoreline,” and a huge fire pit that was surrounded by large gray stones.
There was a white hammock swaying between two of the larger palm trees, and my name was etched in cursive on massive umbrellas that stood in the distance.