Jack climbed in and shut the door. As he settled into his seat, his woody cologne filled the air and affected me, though I tried not to show it.
In the bar window, Reggie’s sign went off.
The street was now dark and quiet.
The silence between Jack and I was thick with expectations I wasn’t sure I could fulfill anymore.
I was inexperienced. What was Jack into? What world would he open up to me?
“I live a few streets away,” Jack said quietly. “Just off Ontario Street.” He then named his street.
I knew it well. I’d lived in this neighborhood all my life, just off the train tracks. “Do you share your place with somebody?” I asked, slowly driving off. I glanced over at him.
Jack’s eyes were fixed to the street and his profile was a little tense. Was he having seconds thoughts about taking me home? “No,” he said. “I live alone. Why?”
Then I noticed his hand was on the door handle. He was anxious. I wanted to make him feel safe, but didn’t know how. I turned the radio on.