This guy, I'm waiting for him to say something. I don't trust myself with starting a conversation anymore.

Looking at him, it made it more obvious to me that I was right in saying that he was working. This, besides the sweat stains on his shirt. He had worn down jeans, mostly near his knees, and the hem looked as if it was breaking down a little. The hammer in his hand probably should have told me something first, but you know... potato child.

"Uhh..." he says.

He's going to say something and I can't really wait anymore. Literally, anything he says will be music to my ears. At least I hope so.

"I think I can help you," he stutters ever so slightly, "if you will let me."

"Oh, you handsome boy," the lady behind the front desk starts, "always helping out. You can't seem to stop can you."

Honestly, I almost forgot that she was even there.

"He never stops, I'm telling ya." the woman says. Talking about this guy seemed to make her happier than those papers she was looking at.

"Last week it was Lucinda, down the street. Then, it was Henry at the petrol station. After that-" she kept going on.

I had a feeling that she would never stop. And surprisingly, I was right for about four minutes.

"Well go on," the woman nods at the guy, "say what you wanna say."

"Oh," he clears his throat.

He looks like he's stalling. Then he takes a deep breath.

Oh my god... He's just like me. I don't know if I should be flattered or if I should roll my eyes.

Finally, after all this waiting, I see him open his mouth slightly.

"I was just trying to ask if you wanted to stay at my place," he gives me this small smile.

I didn't know him and I was kind of worried, but at the same time, he looked as if he was really just trying to be nice.

"It's only a ten-minute drive from here," he does that stutter thing again, "and I guaranty it's a beautiful sight."

It dawned on me that he may have been just as nervous as I was. And just as he's a stranger to me, I'm a stranger to him. His thoughts probably mirrored mine, even the dark ones, but it felt like we were making progress.

Okay Claire, now you say something. You know you came here in the first place to have an adventure. So... have one!

"Okay," I nod.

Congratulations, you did it. You're not completely awkward anymore.

"Cool," he grins so happily. "I'll be done in twenty minutes if you don't mind waiting."

"That's fine," I agree, "I'll make myself comfortable."

"Cool," he says again.

I'm sitting on this small wooden bench up against the dark coloured panelling of the walls. It was probably weird for me to take so much interest in the bench, but it just grabbed my attention. It was a slightly different shade of the dark coloured wood that was found almost everywhere in the entrance of this hotel. At first glance, no one would probably notice it, but taking a closer look showed all these incredible details. Particularly, the feet that hold it up. It must have been hand carved. Not one flower or vine, that rose up to the seat, had an identical counterpart. It was completely unique.

"My grandfather made that bench," I hear a voice say.

I look up and the man is standing in front of me.

"It's amazing," I tell him. "Do you think he could make me one?"

He raises his shoulders a little, "Maybe if he weren't dead."

Claire what the hell is wrong with you!

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," I immediately apologize. 

"No worries, it's been a long time," he almost looks as if he's trying to hide the fact that he's laughing.

I really did feel bad, but it eluded me to why he was laughing. Maybe he was trying to be ironic, but usually, you would expect a person to be sad about someone who's dead and probably close to you. He's just confusing me at this point.

The man goes to grab my bag. It was just laying on the floor beside me and I could have picked it up myself, but I really wasn't given the option.

"Let me help you," he says.

I can feel the corner of my mouth rise as I say, "Thanks."

We walked out of the hotel side by side. The weather still hadn't changed. After all, this incredibly fast-changing weather, I assumed it was just tired.

Yes, the sky has feelings too!

The thoughts that go through my mind can be completely insane sometimes, but I always connected that part of me to my dad's wild imagination. I definitely got it from him.

Finally, we get to his car. It's nothing new. Probably from the early 2000s by the looks of it. And it's sparkling navy blue paint only helped me prove my idea. It reminded me of the old family car from when Flint and I were kids.

The man placed my bag in the back seat and he was nice enough to open the passenger door for me. And like the person I've always been, that seat was on the opposite side from what I was used to. So, I walked around the front of the car to the other side.

"It's different, isn't it?" he says sarcastically.

I let out a laugh, "Yeah."

"Don't worry, I bet millions of people have made the same mistake," he says as he closes the car door for me.

I see him make his way to the driver seat. And eventually sitting, he starts the engine. It rattles for a second, but that second made me fear that it would just break down and we would be stuck here forever. Not literally. It would be pretty dumb if I couldn't think myself out of this one.

Finally, I turn to him, "What's your name?"

He quickly glances at me as we make our way out to the main road.

"Jack," he tells me.

I liked the name Jack, and I felt that it suited him quite well. Even from what the lady said in the hotel, he sounded like the kind of person who would be named Jack.

"Are you going to tell me yours?" he questions.

"Oh yeah," I start, "It's Claire. I wouldn't want to put you through what I just experienced."

He looks curious, "What you experienced?"

"Long story short, I just spent hours sitting beside this girl on the plane and we only formally introduced ourselves minutes before we would never see each other again. Plus, I thought she was pretty and never got to tell her," I say kind of quickly.

Jack raises his eyebrows, "Well it sounds like there's another part to this story. You can tell it to me over supper."

"Sounds like a deal," I reply.

I could tell he was letting his guard down, he wasn't nervous around me anymore. And, I felt the same way. I could tell by the fact that his shoulders layed back in the seat now. 

He said that we were only about ten minutes from his place when we were at the hotel. So, I suspected we were getting close, but that didn't stop him from putting his radio on. 

I liked his taste in music and slowly I found myself bopping my head to the rhythm. 

"Do you like this song?" he points to the radio.

I don't say anything, but I nod. 

Instantly, he turns up the volume dial and we looked as if we were having our own little party. I don't think we really cared if people could see us, but at this point, we were on a gravel road. We hadn't passed anyone in quite a while.

This almost not stranger anymore, Jack, is pretty fun. 

"If you like this music," he shouts over the volume, "I'll show you my vinyl collection."

Luckily I caught all of what he said and show him a thumbs up, "Awesome!"

And just as he smiles back at me, I could tell we were pulling in to his driveway. I looked past a few trees and couldn't believe the sight.

Wow.