ೃ⁀➷ In the year 1994,
Maya Bennet travels to New York to attend a famous music festival, Woodstock. After stumbling into the wrong tent when searching for her lost boyfriend, she has an odd interaction with a handsome mysterious stranger. A year l...
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Driving throughout town with the radio loud enough to silence the sound of Tennessee's harsh wind slipping through the cracks of our rolled-down windows, I glance over at the passenger seat beside me, and smile to myself at the sight of Maya. With a natural glow to her cheekbones from the June-like heat and a sun-kissed patch of red skin on the tip of her nose, she pulls down the sun visor directly in front of her and stares at her reflection in the mirror.
My fingers tap against the steering wheel to the beat of the music, trying my hardest to keep my eyes focused on the road as she fumbles with a tube of cherry chapstick in her hand. But in the corner of my eye, I watch as she twists the bottom of it, bringing it up to her mouth shortly after where she spreads it along her plump lips—The taste of it being just as addicting, if not more, than the smell of her strawberry perfume.
Driving her to work has turned into a habit; one I wish to never break. But I have a feeling sticking around instead of dropping her off may get a little old after a while. Although I wouldn't change a thing unless she asked me to. Besides, with me working nights, and Maya working mornings, we barely have time to see each other. Unless we share a shift at the shop, which unfortunately hasn't happened in quite some time now. Zayn says it's because Dean's onto us, but I think he's just giving his daughter a well-deserved break.
If he were onto us, which I'm having my doubts about as of late, I doubt he'd let me stay with Maya for so long last night. Anything could have happened, and well, things did happen, but I still believe he'd kill me if he found out—She fell asleep in the middle of the movie, right on top of my chest with her legs tangled with mine. I waited thirty minutes before I carried her upstairs, and as soon as she was tucked in, I was met downstairs by two drunks.
Dean's always been a good guy, I've never had my doubts about that. But I won't lie, I feel bad for Maya. Because while from a distance, you can party and have fun with Dean all you want, you're not the one who has to clean up the mess of spilled beers, slurred words, and sober thoughts. Maya is, and I have a feeling she has been ever since her mother died.
"I wish it was colder."
"I thought you enjoyed the heat." I reply softly, rolling up to a stop sign, which causes her head to turn in my direction as her eyes meet mine.
"Not after October." She replies with a shrug of her shoulder, and I turn my head back toward the road, focusing on what's in front of me, while slipping my hand off of the wheel and placing it gently on her knee. Maya's quick to grab onto me, rubbing the pads of her fingers against the back of my hand as she turns and looks outside of her window. "I like watching the leaves fall. It makes it seem like it's actually Halloween time."
