The light turned green, and Ethan began directing us onto the highway. Unlike the last car, this one was nearly silent aside from the purr of the engine. The muscles in Ethan’s jaw tensed, and I realized the question might be more invasive than he wanted to get into.
“You don’t have to answer that.” I internally kicked myself. If this was a date, I was killing the vibe. “It’s your business, obviously.”
“No, I don’t mind.” Ethan’s face relaxed as he said this, like the decision to talk about it was more stressful than actually talking. “I didn’t think about what it would be like to have part of my life be so extremely public. To have people I don’t know and have never met be concerned about me. They have opinions on everything: what I wear, how I talk, who my friends are.” He squinted at a road sign and changed lanes before throwing a quick glance at me and adding, “Even who I date.”
The memory of his pained expression while talking to Emmie returned, and I winced. “I’m guessing the internet made the breakup with Emmie worse, then?”
“Dating someone with that level of fame is hard. I thought I knew what it was like to have strangers reaching out to me or following me, because of my grandma, but Emmie was next-level. People who didn’t even like cars became interested in me because of her, but we were also trapped. When you’re fifteen, you don’t really think about what it means to publicly date someone. You just put someone on your grid and then taking them off becomes impossible, because you aren’t just breakingup with them, you are breaking up with their fans in a way, too. If I’m honest, I think that relationship was over before either of us were ready to admit it. She just moved on before telling anybody, including me.”
“Oh.” My mouth dropped open. It wasn’t that I didn’t know the story, but somehow, I hadn’t expected him to say it so plainly.
“Your face.” Ethan stole a glance at me and then cracked up before laying on the gas a little more. “Don’t get me wrong. It wasn’t funny at the time, but I can joke about it now. With you. I can’t joke about it publicly. That would cause all kinds of problems.” Ethan rolled his eyes, and I imagined what kind of comments he would get tagged in if Emmie’s legion of fans saw it. “You know, you are one of the few people I don’t have to worry about sharing any of these details on the internet.”
“Perks of having a social-media-free friend.” I grinned over at him as he exited the highway.
“Perks of having a friend you trust,” Ethan said, watching my reaction out of the corner of his eye. My heart skipped a beat as the weight of what he’d said sank in. He trusted me. Not because I had no way to share his secrets, but because he didn’t think I’d hurt him. I hoped that was true.
“What do you want to do instead? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“To be honest, I really don’t know,” Ethan said, after a moment of silence. “I stopped posting regularly. So now, when I share it’s because it’s a thing I’m excited about and want to teach people. My sister Stephanie is an ESL teacher, so maybe I’d like that, too?”
“I could see you being good at that.” I nodded, thinkingabout the way he talked to the camera, earnest and patient. Like he understood that cars could be daunting, but he had faith in your ability to figure out the whole headlight-changing thing.
“So, does Emmie know you don’t want to do this forever? I feel like if she did, she’d probably give up on you two getting back together.”
“She does. But she also has a different level of fame than I do. I can go back to being known only in internet car circles. At least, I hope I can.” Ethan frowned, then added, “Emmie has a brand to protect, sponsorships and deals to lose. It’s her livelihood, and she’s trying to figure out how to make everyone happy with her again.”
“Oh.” When he explained it like that, I could understand her better. I lived with tremendous pressure trying to make two demanding parents happy. I couldn’t imagine what it was like to try to please millions of people. “So, what does she want? For the two of you to get back together, or pretend you’re still dating?”
Ethan snorted as we slowed, waiting for a red light to turn at the entrance to the park. “I’m pretty sure she has given up on that.”
“Why?”
He glanced over at me like he was surprised I would ask that question. For a moment, he didn’t say anything; he only scanned my face. Looking at me intentionally, he held my gaze and said, “Because I’m interested in someone else.”
If it was possible to have a heart both stop and beat so hard that it might come out of a chest, mine was trying to do that. Ethan watched me, his expression shifting from playful to something with heat in it. It was the kind of look that made me wantto grab onto him. To run my fingers through his hair. Feel his skin against mine. My breathing felt shallow as my imagination ran wild. I tried to make myself say something. Confirm that this new person was me.
Instead, the light changed, and he refocused on the road. “We need driving music before we lose reception.”
“Okay,” I mumbled as my thoughts smoldered into a useless pile. I wondered if I’d ever recover from his look. Or if I’d melt into a puddle of wanting on the floor mat if he even so much as blinked at me again. I watched as he pressed a button on the steering wheel, imagining his hand on my thigh instead of the car…Then cheesy music filled the air, the spell broken by a man singing about walking around in his sleep.
“What is this?” I laughed. “And why are we listening to it?”
“It’s ‘River of Dreams,’ ” Ethan said. When that didn’t elicit a response, he added, “Billy Joel.” When that failed to mean something to me as well, his eyes went wide. “You know, the Piano Man. You don’t know any of the good music, do you?”
“This song is older than we are, isn’t it?” I rolled my eyes.
“Yes. By several decades. Like the eighties or nineties, I think.” Ethan started laughing as we pulled up to a little hut with a park ranger in it. He turned down the Piano Man and opened his window, taking a map from the friendly-looking ranger, who rattled off the park rules.
Falling in line behind the other cars driving through the park on the one-lane road, he turned the song back up and started howling along like we were at karaoke.
“Why is this your driving music?” I asked as soon as the song started to fade.
“It’s what my dad listens to at the garage.”
“Music from the eighties?” I did a little math, then peeked over at Ethan. “Wait, my parents listen to two thousands hip-hop. How old is your dad?”
“Sixty-five. Second family, remember?” He gestured to his chest before putting his hand back on the gearshift.
