A Song for Julia

out much when I lived in the area.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “Why not? Don’t take offense, but you seem like you were probably one of the popular girls.”
    “You couldn’t be more wrong. What makes you think that?” I asked, giving him a challenging stare.
    “First impressions, I guess. You still look very professional in that outfit, kind of preppy. Sexy as hell.”
    I’m not a blushy sort of girl, but that made me blush. “It’s not exactly club attire, is it? But I don’t want to take the time to go back and change.”
    “No worries, Julia. It’s just us, anyway.”
    I swallowed and then leaned against him. What had gotten into me?
    Lust. That was the only explanation. I could feel the hard muscle of his shoulders and thighs pressing against me, and my body was responding to that—no matter what my mind said.
    The cab came to a halt, and the driver muttered something. I leaned forward. Nothing but red taillights ahead of us for blocks.
    “What’s going on?” Crank asked.
    “Construction,” the driver said. “Bad. You want me to let you out here?” He looked anxious to dump us out of the cab as soon as possible, to avoid being stuck in the westbound traffic.
    I took a breath. My chest was tight, my whole body tense. I rubbed my hands on my skirt, closed my eyes and thought, Screw it. I can do this. It’s just one night, anyway.
    “Do you want to…” he asked, just as I started to say, “Let’s …”
    We both stopped, and he laughed.
    “You go first,” he said.
    I bit my lip, and I could feel my cheeks heating up again. “I was going to say …” and my voice trailed off.
    “You were going to say?”
    He grinned. It was a crooked grin, the left side of his mouth slightly higher than the right, and it made me want to melt into my seat and pull him right after me.
    I took a breath and closed my eyes. “I was going to say, where are you staying?”
    I kept my eyes closed another fifteen seconds or more. And, let me tell you, fifteen seconds is a long, long time. Finally I opened them, and he was looking at me with an expression I couldn’t interpret. For someone who was always joking, always making snide remarks, he looked serious. Too serious. More serious than I was comfortable with. I didn’t need serious in my life.
    I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, then he said, “I’m at some dump in Arlington. Sharing a room with Mark.”
    “Oh,” I said, my voice unnaturally tense.
    “What about you?” he asked. He spoke very slowly, carefully.
    “Um … my parents have a condo in Bethesda. I was planning on heading back there tonight.”
    “I don’t want to say goodbye,” he said.
    I couldn’t get control of my breathing. I felt lightheaded. Out of control. “Come back to my place.”
    He titled his head, leaned close and whispered, “Are you sure?”
    I found myself chewing on my lower lip again. “Yes.”
    I dropped my eyes and leaned forward, putting my hand on the back of the taxi driver’s seat. “Can you take us to Bethesda instead? Wisconsin Avenue and Montgomery.”
    Suddenly it was quiet in the cab. Tense, awkward. I couldn’t believe I’d done this. I did not do one-night stands. But here I was, half-hyperventilating, with this guy I’d only known for eight hours sitting beside me in the cab. And I guess if it was just for now that was fine, but what if he wanted to see me again? What if he wanted to date? What if?
    I didn’t think I could handle that.
    This was so stupid. Things were so much easier with Willard, before I broke up with him. I was always in control. There was no passion there, true. There wasn’t anything there. But it was comfortable. Easy. I wasn’t afraid.
    Crank, though: he made me afraid.
    The cab cleared the traffic and turned up at Massachusetts Avenue, and we were speeding out of downtown DC.
    “You’re awfully quiet now,” Crank said.
    I looked at him, and his eyes were boring into mine, intense, probing.
    “Having second thoughts?” he asked. “It’s okay.”
    I leaned a little closer. “No. Just … it’s just tonight. We don’t see each other again. We don’t call each other in Boston. We don’t … anything. Okay? We enjoy each other’s company tonight, and then we’re done.”
    He stared at me, surprised. And … his face looked disappointed. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing once in his throat. “I don’t know why, but that’s … not what I expected.”
    “Don’t get expectations. Not