Crescendo

Chapter Eight

We drive in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the classical music station. Usually when I have this station on it's because I'm hoping to discover a violin solo to play at a recital or competition. Which is basically what I've been doing for the last week or so. But right now the radio might as well be off completely. I'm too caught up in the fact that the hot guy from the store is sitting in the passenger seat of my car. That his hair is billowing in the wind as we drive. I can barely keep my eyes off of him. He's looking out the window, and I see a small crooked grin on his handsome face. I wonder what he's thinking, and I hope he's thinking about me. My heart is pounding as I try to keep my cool. But God, he makes me so nervous!

"So what are you going to do about your friend?" he asks, breaking the silence. I look in the rearview mirror and see Claire's head resting against the door handle. Her eyes are slightly open, but she's so clearly out of it. For a second I wonder if I should take her to the hospital. What if there's something wrong with her? Conner looks at me, and for the millionth time he says exactly what I'm thinking. "She's okay. I can tell you're worried. But I really don't think there's anything to worry about."

"How do you know?" I ask, gripping the steering wheel tightly and watching my knuckles turn white.

There's a slight pause between us. Then he says, "I've just seen a lot of shit, and I've had a hell of a lot of experiences in this department."

But I shake my head. "No that's... not what I meant." Although, to be honest, I am intrigued by his words. What kind of experiences has he had? But I brush it off for now. "I meant how do you know what I'm thinking all the time? You don't even know me."

"Don't I?" he asks, and he stares directly at me. "We did just spend hours talking at a party. I think I know you a little." I give him a you-know-what-I-mean look, and he laughs. "I don't know, Counter Girl. I guess that's my superpower. I'm just really intuitive. I always have been." I look at him skeptically. "I know it's not the greatest superpower. I mean, we can't all be life savers like you." I smirk and he smiles. "I'm just really good at guessing what people are thinking. Most people are easy to read, you know?"

"Even me?" I ask. I don't know what I want him to say to this. In a way I hope I am an open book to him. I'm not good at expressing my emotions, and I desperately want him to know he makes me feel all fluttery. But I also don't want to be obvious about it. I kind of want to be a little mysterious, too. Is that so wrong?

"You," he whispers, and his voice is deep and soft and sexy. I swallow nervously, but I don't look away from the road, even though I can feel his blue eyes watching me. "You are... easy to read about some things. I know you're worried about your friend. And I know you're kind of modest. And shy. But there are some things I don't know. Actually, there are a lot of things I don't know. Which is... frustrating. But in a really good way. Does that make sense?"

No, it doesn't. But I don't want to tell him that. I just nod my head as I turn onto one of the main roads of downtown Coeur d'Alene. Claire lives a few blocks away from here, and I think it would be easier to drop her off first. I hate leaving her alone, but I can't bring her to my house like this. I know my mom is waiting up for me, and if she sees Claire all drunk and high, then she'll tell Claire's mom. And her parents are pretty lenient, but not that lenient. If they knew about what she had been up to all night she'd be in so much trouble. No, it would be much better to just drop her off at her house. Maybe her older sister is home and will take care of her. Lord knows Claire has taken care of her enough times. Heather, Claire's older sister, spent years doing drugs and drinking hardcore before she finally straightened out and started going to college to be a counselor. I know Heather will help her, even if she disapproves of her sister's actions.