ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ was discovered at fourteen years old, being praised as a musical prodigy by the media ever since. His fame had only increased until now. At nineteen old, he's the most remarkable musician of his age, and he's only getting started. At...
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ᴏᴀᴋʟᴇʏ ᴄᴀʀʀɪʟʟᴏ
"I don't wanna talk about it," my sister said as she sat down in the passenger's side. After the conversation Nolan and I shared, she called me to pick her up. Nolan said he felt tired anyway, so he went home. I wondered what we could've done if my sister hadn't called. Maybe we would've wound up watching that movie anyway, or maybe I could've taught him more guitar. I enjoyed being around him a lot.
"'Oh, please, Trisha. What's wrong?'" she mocked me in a faux low voice. An attempt at a low voice, at least.
"I didn't even say anything."
"You wanted to."
"But I didn't."
Most of the ride home was quiet as I decided not to push it. Trisha looked straight ahead the entire time, not even looking at me. Almost like I'd done something. It was only at the end of the drive that I decided it was enough.
"So I assume it didn't go well?" I asked gently.
"I told you I don't wanna talk about it."
"I know, but I think we should." It helped Nolan today, so surely it would help her too. "I just wanna make sure you're gonna be okay. You don't have to tell me everything. Just tell me why you're upset."
She sighed, finally looking at me for a second. "He doesn't really like me," she said. "That's it. That's why I'm upset."
"But he said he did like you?"
"Yeah," she said, looking straight ahead again.
"That's such a dick move." It was all I could say, because I promised I wouldn't push any further. I didn't get to ask why, or how she found out.
"I know. I'll be fine, though." She picked at her eyelashes, scraping product off them. She seemed almost content with how our conversation went, and I thought we could finish the last five minutes in silence, but apparently there was more topic of conversation. "How about Nolan?"
"What about him?" Had she noticed him being a bit off earlier?
I quickly found out that wasn't it. "How was your date?" she asked nonchalantly.
"Date?" I asked, frowning at the road. Did it look like one? Because that definitely wasn't the idea, and Trisha should've known that considering she was the one who wrote the title for 'A Collection of Anti-Love Songs'.
