AUTHOR'S NOTE: All characters in this story are eighteen or older. Craig is a 45-year-old single man. He is blue-collar and has never been to college. Kim is 18 years old and has just completed high school. She lives with her parents and is attending community college this fall. The events depicted in this story begin during the summer after she graduates from high school.
Further Note: I was trying to write fan fiction. It was based on a popular book about a teenage student who falls in love with an older teacher. There is a scene in the book where she and two teenage friends are at a bowling alley hanging out when a middle blue-collar man approaches them. In the course of the conversation, he offers a drink out of his cocktail. Only the main character takes a drink. The scene ends there but I always thought about what would happen if she accepted a ride home from him. From that, I tried to develop a storyline between her and the man whom I called Craig. Getting tired of that story, I started an origin story for Craig. It turned out to be a three-part ark. This is the first part. It's a slow burn with more sexual tension than sex but sometimes that's funner.
Craig leaned back against the rough bark of an old oak tree, nursing a beer as the party buzzed around him. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cigarettes and barbecue, mingling with the faint perfume of wildflowers carried on the night breeze. The backyard was dimly lit, illuminated by a few strings of mismatched fairy lights and the glow of a fire pit in the center of the gathering. Laughter and music overlapped, a chaotic symphony of voices and clinking bottles.
He wasn't much for parties anymore--hadn't been for years--but a buddy had dragged him along, and he figured it wouldn't hurt to show his face. The crowd was younger than he'd expected, in that mid-twenties phase where everything is possible and hangovers were mild. He'd already noticed a few glances thrown his way--half curious, half dismissive. He didn't belong here, and he knew it.
That's when he saw her.
She was small, almost lost in the crowd, her long black hair like a river of ink spilling down her back. She stood off to the side, her dark olive skin glowing faintly in the firelight, her shoulders hunched as if trying to make herself invisible. She looked nervous, out of place, like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck that wasn't slowing down.
Craig frowned, taking another sip of his beer as he watched her from across the yard. She was too young to be here--he could see that as plain as day. Her oversized sweater and scuffed sneakers didn't match the flashier outfits of the other girls, and she clutched a plastic cup like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground.
The guy beside her leaned in too close, his voice low and insistent, his hand brushing her arm. She flinched, taking a small step back, her gaze darting around the yard like she was looking for an escape.
Craig straightened, his beer forgotten as he pushed off the tree and made his way toward her. He wasn't sure why--maybe it was the look in her eyes, or the way she seemed to shrink into herself every time someone came too close. Either way, his boots crunched softly on the gravel as he closed the distance.
"Hey," he said, his voice low and even as he stopped a few feet away from her. The guy talking to her glanced up, his expression darkening at the interruption, but Craig didn't spare him a second look. His focus was on the girl, who stared up at him with wide, startled eyes.
"You okay?" he asked, his tone gentle but firm.
She hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and the guy before nodding quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Craig raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. "Doesn't look like it."
The guy scowled, muttering something under his breath before slinking off, leaving the girl standing there with her cup. She looked up at Craig again, her expression a mix of relief and uncertainty.
"Thanks," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the party.
He nodded, leaning slightly to the side so he wasn't towering over her. "Name's Craig. You got one?"
"Kim," she replied, her grip on the cup tightening.
"Kim," he repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. "You shouldn't be here, you know."
She shrugged, a small, almost defiant gesture. "I'm fine."
Craig studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah, sure you are. Are you hungry? There's food over by the fire."
Her lips parted, and for a moment, she looked like she might argue. Then she nodded, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "Yeah, okay."
"Come on," he said, tilting his head toward the fire pit. As they walked, he made sure to keep his pace slow, his steps steady. Kim didn't say much, but he caught her sneaking glances at him out of the corner of his eye. She didn't know him, but she didn't flinch away either. That was a start.
Craig watched as Kim nibbled on a hotdog he'd managed to snag from the food table, her small frame perched on the edge of a folding chair by the fire. Her nervousness had faded slightly, and now she was smiling--tentative, but genuine. He'd kept the conversation light, asking about school, her favorite music, and anything else that got her to open up.
"You like Fleetwood Mac?" he asked, tilting his head as the crackling firelight danced across her face.
Kim's eyes lit up, and she nodded quickly. "Yeah, I do. My dad listens to them all the time. 'Dreams' is probably my favorite."
Craig chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Good choice. Can't go wrong with the classics. You ever see them live?"
Kim shook her head, her long hair swaying with the motion. "No. I don't really go to concerts. My parents are pretty strict. And besides I was too young."
Craig raised an eyebrow, his grin softening. "Strict enough to keep you out of parties like this?"
Her smile faltered, and she looked down at her hands, which were folded tightly in her lap. "Yeah," she admitted after a moment. "But I wanted to try something different, you know? Just for once."
"Nothing wrong with that," Craig said gently. "But these kinds of places... they're not always as fun as they look."
Kim glanced up at him, her dark eyes searching his face. "I guess not," she said quietly, her voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and understanding.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the party fading into the background. Craig found himself surprisingly at ease around her, her quiet honesty a refreshing change from the usual chaos he encountered.
After a while, Kim shifted in her seat, setting her cup down on the ground. "I should probably go home," she said, her voice hesitant but firm.
Craig straightened, nodding. "Where's your ride?"
Kim hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "I, um... I walked here."
Craig frowned, his protective instincts kicking in. "Walked? At night? That's not safe."
She shrugged, looking sheepish. "It's not that far."
"I'll take you," Craig said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Kim hesitated, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, he thought she might say no, but then she nodded. "Okay," she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
They left the party quietly, slipping away from the noise and chaos. Craig opened the passenger door of his truck for her, waiting until she was settled before climbing in himself. The drive was calm, the hum of the engine filling the space between them as Kim gave him directions.
When they pulled up to a modest, middle-class house, Craig glanced at the porch light glowing softly in the darkness. "This it?" he asked.
Kim nodded, gathering her things. "Yeah. Thanks for the ride."
Before she could open the door, Craig touched her arm lightly, his hand warm and steady. "Hey," he said, his voice honest and low. "I had a good time tonight. You're good company."
Kim blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she smiled. "Thanks," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Here," Craig said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. "Let's exchange numbers. That way, if you ever end up at another party like this, you've got someone to call."
Kim hesitated for only a second before taking his phone and typing in her number. She handed it back to him, her smile growing as she looked up at him. "Thanks, Craig. For everything."
Craig nodded, watching as she climbed out of the truck and walked up the driveway. She turned back once, waving before disappearing inside. Craig sat there for a moment, the faint glow of her porch light casting long shadows on his face.
As he pulled away, he couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.
The first text came a few days after the party. Craig was working on his truck, hands smeared with grease and his mind focused on the stubborn engine that refused to cooperate, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He wiped his hands on a rag and pulled it out, frowning slightly at the unfamiliar number.
Kim: Hey Craig, it's Kim. Just wanted to say thanks again for the other night. Hope you're doing okay.
He stared at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He liked Kim--she was sweet, vulnerable, and had a good head on her shoulders. But she was also young, too young, and he wasn't about to lead her down a road that would only end badly. After a moment, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and returned to his truck.
By the time he finished his work, two more messages were waiting.
Kim: I hope I'm not bothering you!
Kim: If you're busy, no problem. Just wanted to say hi.
Craig sighed, running a hand through his short-cropped hair. He could almost see her, biting her lip as she stared at her phone, second-guessing every word. He typed out a quick response, keeping it simple.
Craig: Not busy. How are you?
