Chevelle's Story

chapter 18.2

As they waited out the rain that had quickly turned into a storm, they talked about everything from their favorite music to their dreams for the world's future. Abel insisted that Chevelle take the aux first since it was her car and she was the one who had done the hard work of breaking them in and hotwiring it. They weren't sure how long the storm would last, and so they started out their rotation in 20-minute intervals.

Chevelle played Abel an EP that had just dropped from one of her newly found favorite artists: a Ghanaian Alté singer named Amaarae. As the music played, Abel found himself enchanted by Chevelle. By how impossibly cute she was, doing her little dance and singing along to the songs. How there was just something about her that he was unable to look away from. She could've been doing something as simple as nodding her head, and still, he just couldn't look away.

When it was Abel's turn on the aux, he started off with Chance the Rapper's 10 Day—specifically 'Brain Cells.'

When Chevelle admitted that she had never listened to 10 Day before, he wanted to play the whole mixtape for her, but since he only had twenty minutes, he had to choose his songs wisely. He told her about how that mixtape had come out right after he'd broken up with his first serious girlfriend, Delphine. That he'd listened to it on repeat for over a month and it had gotten him through some of his toughest days. He then played some Flatbush Zombies for Chevelle, starting with his favorite song, 'Palm Trees,' which, considering how they met, felt appropriate. Chevelle immediately recognized the song and sang along to the chorus with Abel as the thunder roared from outside.

They went along like that for a while, taking turns and laughing as they tried to sing and rap along to the music. Chevelle played some Junglepussy, Abel played some Young Thug. She played some Burna Boy, he played some Dave B. And as they shared stories of their favorite artists and why they loved them, of what the live shows they'd been to and how worth it those experiences had been, they quickly realized that they had a lot more in common than they'd previously thought.

In only an hour, Chevelle had not only put Abel onto lots of new music from different parts of the world, but she had also successfully convinced him that he needed to listen to more artists that weren't men. And likewise, Abel convinced Chevelle—who was a little skeptical beforehand—that there was a lot of variety and beauty within the American music scene. That it wasn't all just the stuff people heard on the radio.

Eventually, they made their way to the backseat to cuddle. The rain didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, and the way Abel was looking at Chevelle was making her want to be close to him in ways that she couldn't from a separate seat. And so, they got comfortable in the backseat. A reverse spoon where they were both facing each other, holding each other close. Chevelle's head rested against Abel's chest, and she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek.

Having his warm body enveloped around hers, Chevelle had to fight to stay awake. She was at such peace that she forgot where she was—she forgot everything that was outside the confines of this rusty old car.

Abel's hand was on Chevelle's back, drawing faint shapes through her shirt. She glanced up and saw that he was looking out the window with a calm, relaxed stare. With a smile, she lowered her gaze down to her leg that was draped over his body, brushing up against it gently.

"This is really nice," Chevelle said, exhaling deeply.

Abel chuckled, nodding his head. "Yeah," he agreed. "It is." He looked down at her, disbelief clear in his eyes. "You're honestly perfect," he said, surprising both Chevelle and himself with his candor. "Every day I grow more grateful that I met you."

And unsure how to respond to something so sincere—so kind—all Chevelle could say was, "I'm not that great." And then, feeling bad about deflecting from the compliment, she added, "I mean, thank you, but...there's still a lot about me that's fucked up. A lot of baggage you haven't had the pleasure of seeing yet."