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be a trick.
    I try to pry my arm away from his hand. “I’ll let go, but you have to promise me you will tell me why you’re freaking out?” he says, sounding uneasy.
    “Just get it over with, please,” I say, in a small pleading voice.
    Instantaneously, he lets go of my arm. I stand there frozen, not knowing what to do. I’m still shaking, going through a hundred scenarios in my head. Should I run? If I did, could I find my way back to the dorms? Why would it matter? I would probably find a bigger creep trying to get back on my own. It’s late and I’m a helpless, clueless girl. I could go back into the restaurant and use their phone to call Lauren or the guy I used work with, but it’s late and I don’t know if they would be up. Who knows how many IHOP’s there are in the city. I’m royally screwed either way.
    “Kara …,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry if I said something wrong, but I would never hurt you.”
    He slowly reaches for me. I jump back staring at the ground. I’m hoping he will just go get in his car and leave. We just stand there like idiots in the parking lot of IHOP. Just breathe. If he wanted to do something, he would have already done it … or at least tried to get me back in the car so we wouldn’t make a scene. I can feel myself starting to calm down.He is giving me space, but still staying close by. While I stand there, I can see that he’s really concerned. I realize I have made a complete fool out of myself. I can’t stop the inevitable form happening, but I need to live my life. Fate will happen either way. I wish I could have realized this before now. Before I found myself standing at IHOP with a complete stud and embarrassing myself. Life would have been a lot easier.
    I look up at him to find him running his hands through his black hair, worry etched on his face. When he looks up, our eyes meet, and I realize that he is at a loss as to what I’m going to do next. The first guy that I’m attracted to in years and I have a freak out in front of him.
    “I’m s-sorry,” I say, looking down again.
    He takes a timid step forward, slowly raises his hand (making sure that I see what he is doing), and gently lifts my chin up. We are so close I can see that there are specks of gray in those meticulous hazel eyes of his. They are so pure that I instantly feel guilty for accusing this nice guy or assuming what his intentions were tonight. “I don’t know what that was, but will you please come back to my car? I will take you home if you want, but I would really like to talk … just talk,” he says, placidly.
    “O-okay …,” I say, guarded.
    I start the walk of shame. I’m so humiliated. He opens my door, and I cautiously climb in. Before he gets in, I take the time to take a deep breath and calm my nerves. He doesn’t say anything, just begins to drive. I’m guessing he knows where the university is. I don’t want to ask, though.
    We drive for what isn’t more than twenty minutes, and I start to recognize my surroundings. I see the corner mart where I go to buy my food, then we pass the coffee shop that I worked at for the first three years of school so I know that we are not far from campus. I watch the street lights go by, one by one. Maybe he will just drop me off and we will go our separate ways. No way am I going to start a friendship, let alone any sort of relationship, with him after the way I acted.
    He turns onto the campus and without looking at me, says, “What building is it?”
    “B,” I say, while twisting my hands in my lap.
    He pulls into a parking spot and turns off the car. He just sits there with his hands on the wheel. He looks like he is contemplating something.
    “Thank-you for dinner and the ride back … and I’m sorry for the way I acted,” I manage to say.
    I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle. “Wait …” I stop and look back at him. “Maybe, it would help if you