She opened the two-liter and filled each cup. After finishing, she handed William
his cup, raised hers, and clinked their cups.
“Cheers!” she exclaimed.
“Cheers,” William whispered.
He could barely taste the alcohol in his drink. Emily was right. This was how he
should start. He definitely was not an experienced drinker.
The second drink she made him contained a bit more alcohol, but it didn’t taste
like it. William thought he could end up a Jack and Coke man after all.
Emily was on her third one. But she began pouring less into her drinks than when
she started.
“I like you, William,” Emily told him.
“I like you too,” William responded.
“Do you like working at the gas station?” she asked.
“I don’t mind it,” William confided. He really didn’t. He did the job and left.
There wasn’t much to it. It wasn’t brain surgery.
“I don’t mind it when working with you,” Emily confessed. “You seem to know when to
talk and when not to. You’re not trying to talk just to talk like other people. I
like that.”
“Thanks,” William responded. Did he do that?
“I thought it was going to be a long summer,” she took a big gulp from her cup.
“But with you, I think it’s going to fly by.”
“It probably will,” he responded, then took a big sip.
“Doesn’t it seem like fate?” Emily asked. “We met at that party and then ended up
working at the same gas station months later.”
“Maybe,” William responded. He took a deep breath. He could feel it. She was going