They climbed into Jackson's truck, doors creaking in unison as they opened and slammed shut. River put on her seatbelt and pulled the sun visor down, shielding her eyes from the glare.

He started up the engine with a roar and pulled smoothly out of the drive and down the street, headed back the direction they had came. He had changed his clothes while inside, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a fresh black t-shirt that showed off his tan quite nicely, worn red baseball cap on his head. He'd washed his face, no more blood or grease stains. Just tan weathered skin, with a slight stubble cropping up on his jaw, which, she noticed, was set.

There was quite a bit about this afternoon that had been unsettling. He'd bashed his head, and she knew it hurt even if he didn't want to admit it. She'd kissed him, and neither one of them had spoken a peep about it since. Not to mention they'd just lived through a direct hit by a twister.

His words, out of nowhere, broke the silence. "Are you afraid of me?" He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, eyes still on the road.

"No," she assured him, taken aback by the question.

He took a breath. "But when you look at me, you still see who I used to be," he said, questioned almost, still not making eye contact with her.

She thought for a moment. He was right. She did still see the bully that he once was, all the things he'd done to make people miserable. She tilted her head, realizing herself for the first time that she also saw him as he was now. 

"I do still see that," she said honestly, and a muscle in his jaw ticked in response. "But I also see you. Just because I remember doesn't mean I can't see who you really are. Now." Her own words hit her like a ton of bricks. Not because of the revelation about Jackson, but because she wished to high heaven that the opposite were true for him; that he could still see who she used to be, and didn't see what she'd become.

He nodded. "Fair enough." A slow smile crept across his face.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"You kissed me," he said, smirking, giving her a sideways glance as they bumped onto the dirt section of the road.

She scoffed, and couldn't help but grin back, looking out her window, unconsciously touching a knuckle to her lips. "Yes. I did." She shot him a smile and he reached across the seat and took her hand.

"Does this mean I finally get to take you out on a date?"

"Usually the date comes before the kissing," she noted amusedly.

"I claim full responsibility for working things backwards."

She laughed. "Thank you." He glanced at her knowingly, a perfect mix of cocky self-assurance and hopefulness. You only live once. She came here to start over. A surge of confidence swept through her and she tightened her fingers around his. "And yes, please, take me out on that date." 

When he smiled, genuinely, his eyes smiled even harder than his face did. It was infectious, she noted, as her grin widened, and she looked at her lap self consciously, then back at him. He slowed as they came up on what was left of the Oasis.

"God, I can't believe we made it out of that." A shiver ran up her spine as the howling wind replayed in her mind.

"We were lucky that's for damn sure." He squeezed her hand tighter, frowning. "I'm glad you made it there when you did."

"My car's up the road just on the other side of the Center Tree crossroads," she told him, nodding ahead. The Center Tree was a tree in the middle of a crossroads, out in the middle of nowhere. It was a popular place for high school kids. Legend said that if you made a promise at the Center Tree Crossroads, and sealed it with a kiss, whatever you promised was binding, and if you broke that promise, you'd suffer terrible consequences. Gotta love back country Kansas.

"Hey," she said, "did you ever make a promise at the Center Tree?"

He grinned again. "Too many," he confessed. "How about you?"

"Nope. I never was one to mess around with superstition. I don't need that bad juju following me around," she said and he chuckled. "Amanda did though. She promised Billy Kepros that she'd let him touch her boobs after the homecoming dance in tenth grade, but she chickened out and the next day her cat died."

Jackson laughed out loud. "Stop," he said. "Seriously?"

"Yep." She nodded. "Like I said, I don't mess around with that stuff."

"So you're superstitious?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I guess, a little. Not in a crazy way, but I suppose I do believe there's something to it."

"What's it mean that right after you kiss me, we almost get killed by a natural disaster?"

Her throat grew tight and she swallowed hard. "Let's not think about that," she said and he laughed again, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to it.