Which was worse, stammering or giggling? I couldn’t decide.

Lee held the passenger door for me as I climbed aboard his “Frickmobile,” as the rest of the team had dubbed the modified Dodge van. I’d ridden in it before, but this time I noticed something different.

I settled into the passenger seat and took another sniff to be sure. “Why does the Frickmobile smell like laundry?” I asked.

Lee laughed. “Clean laundry, I hope,” he said as he closed the door.

I had to wait while he stumped around the front of the van to climb in on his side. “Clean laundry,” I agreed. “Kind of soapy and …uh… sunny?”

He laughed again. “I haul the week’s team laundry to Friendly Wash-n-Dry on Saturday, then take it back to the school Sunday morning after it’s clean,” he explained.

Which reminded me just how much Lee did for the team running errands and making sure small jobs got done. I resisted feeling guilty about it. I did things no one else could do, like 40 yards in less than five seconds. No one else in the league could do that except maybe Ginger on the ‘Dogs.

I blushed, remembering Ginger accusing me of stepping on his ankle. I didn’t, but yeah, he had gotten hurt. So, I was almost definitely the fastest high school football sprinter in Northern Arizona.

“His name isn’t Frickmobile,” Lee said, making me realize I had not been paying attention.

I blushed again, glancing at Lee, who wore a huge grin.

“Par’me?” I mumbled.

“The van,” Lee amplified. “His name is Horace.”

I felt my shoulders shake with a giggle. “Why—why Horace?”

“After one of the Dodge Brothers,” Lee supplied, “the good-looking one.”

I felt another giggle trying to bubble up. We were pulling out onto Ponderosa Drive now, and I grabbed the opportunity to ask something else. “Wh-where are we going? Th-the movie isn’t for hours.” Which was worse, stammering or giggling? I couldn’t decide.

“Uh….” Now Lee sounded a bit embarrassed. “I thought I could take you home? My Mom wants to meet you.”

“Meet me?“ I know I squeaked. I had met her, sort of, at official functions. She was a politician. At least, I think City Treasurer is elected, in Friendly. I’d only gotten old enough to vote in September.

Lee tried to explain. “Yeah, I guess? I mean, you’re the team star and—and I haven’t really been on a date since—uh?” He broke that off. “I mean not a real date….”

Horrified, I realized that he thought of this as an actual date. And everyone else seemed to think so, too. I don’t know what my expression was when I looked at him, but he did seem to draw back a bit.

He made the turn onto the Beeline Highway toward Phoenix and, incidentally, toward the country club where he and his Mom lived. I felt like I needed to say something, but my mind was blank.

Lee spoke first. “Actually,” he said. “It’s my middle name.”

“Uh? What is?”

“Horace. I’m named after my grandfathers. Horace Frick and Leland Speight.”

I giggled again. It just escaped. “My middle name is Hunter,” I said.

“And your first name is really Gaylen,” he said. “Not Pete.” He may have grinned at that, but he was looking left at the intersection, and I didn’t see.

“Both of those names, Hunter and Gaylen, are from my grandfathers, too,” I said.

“Grandfathers are the worst,” he agreed, and we both laughed.

Now he was looking right at me as we reached the edge of town and the turn-off to the country club. “I think Gaylen is a really pretty name for a girl,” he said — just before he looked left again to make the turn.