It was quiet as I sat in the passenger seat while Smith drove me home. He didn't bother asking if I wanted to call my parents or not, because I only told him the apartment place and nothing more. I stared out the window.
"Rosalie?" he asked, breaking me out of my trance.
"Yeah?" I said, my eyes not leaving the sky moving past me.
"Do you, uh, want me to play the radio? I don't have much stations but.." he turned on the radio since I nodded my head mid-sentence, and I interrupted him when one of my favorite songs came on.
"Oh my gosh, I didn't even know they played this on the radio!" I squealed. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring bursted through the speakers.
Smith laughed, "Actually, this is my CD. I haven't switched it to the radio yet." I smiled a bit, then grinned wide.
"So, does that mean that you like one of my favorite bands? And song?" I turned around and glanced at him, while he glanced at me. I took that as a yes. So I started singing. Quietly.
"With a thousand lies, and a good disguise.. hit 'em right between the eyes, hit 'em right between the eyes.." I noticed Smith singing too, quietly, just like I was. When the song ended, he changed it to the radio, where a random pop station came on.
His voice startled me when he blurted out, "You're a good singer, you know." He said it real fast like he was trying to get it over with. I guess he was lying. I know I'm not a good singer, my own parents said so and so did the 8th grade when I was 13.
I started to laugh, and my laugh is strange, and then I snorted, which means I laughed too hard. I covered my mouth while Smith started to laugh, and his laugh was way better than mine.
"No, I'm serious," he said with one hand on the wheel. "You're gonna go far, kid." I smiled at his 'kid' nickname. Then I came to realization.
"Oh, very funny, Smith," I said grinning from ear to ear. he just laughed silently next to me, and I looked out the window again. Even though he was just quoting the song, I kind of wished his nickname for me was kid. My cell phone rang out throughout his car. WAIT. Oh. No.
"H-Hello?" I stuttered.
"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN ROSALIE?!" My boyfriend Ricky yelled, breaking my eardrum.
I turned to look at Smith, but he didn't hear. So I faced front and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. I forgot he wanted to drive me home. I never actually said yes, just that I may be busy. Which I am. Wait, not like that.. urgh.
"I got offered a ride, and I never actually said yes to your offer--"
"Shut up," he interrupted. I almost gasped in spite of myself. "Excuse me?"
"I said," he hissed, "I'm done with your crap."
"My crap?" I asked with clear annoyance, so damn clearly that a deaf person could sense it. "Should I bring up Shelby again?"
He sighed dramatically and mumbled something that sounded like cussing. "God," he whined, "it happens one time and you're marked for your life. She promised she wouldn't tell you again." He gasped, and I gasped. Ricky Johnson, you've made a mistake. A big one.
Let me explain: Ricky had a party and I couldn't make it, so he invited Shelby. Things happened, bad bad things (if you get my drift) and I was furious when she told me--bragging like always. So I went over to Ricky at school, and right infront of his friends, slapped him in the face. Hard. So hard, that I left a red mark.
Before he could cuss, I kissed him, then walked away, leaving him dumbstruck. He tried to call me 10 times until he came to my apartment, where I lied and said my parents weren't home but let him come in. Even though I slapped and kissed him, I still was hurt and wanted him to explain.
