Glass Houses Shouldn't Throw Stones

Chapter Nine: Saturday Night

"Where are we going?" I whined.

"To the record store."

"Why?"

"So you can see me too."

"You only see me when I'm not real," I sang to myself. It was barely audible but I noticed Aaron smiling.

"You only look at me like I'm something to steal." He added.

"It's just a backseat hand grenade, waiting to blow away." I chirped.

"Just another hurricane, here to pull the lid away."

"Why am I a slut?" I asked, spontaneously. He seemed to be in a better mood now. It was a good time to ask.

He stayed silent. Tension cut the air like razor blades.

"Because I'm a jerk. I'll tell you in four hours."

"Take me home by 10." I demanded.

"Alright alright." Aaron parked the car and tried to open my door, but he was much too late.

"Chivalry isn't dead you know?"

"But you know what is?"

"Nice men." I smirked.

He dragged me inside by my arm. My arms were enclosed by my sleeves, but I felt tingles on my skin.

"Just let me know you like no one else does." He whispered. The store was vintage and autographed guitars hung from the ceiling.

"I've never had coffee before. I want it to be special," I blurted.

"Keep going."

"No you do one now."

He pulled an old record out and said, "I love old rock and roll."

"Jukebox hero is my song." I pulled it from the rack and placed it in the record player. I twirled around the empty store and sang along with my bad singing voice. Soon, a few people around the store took my hands and danced with me too. Aaron got to me and said something unforgettable. He put his hands at my shoulders and it was comfortable. He didn't pressure me or slam his body against mine, like I had read scum do sometimes.

"You're amazing. You charm people everywhere you go." I smiled and took my record from the player. I paid for a record I'd never use, but I would write his words and the date on here like a couple that met in France would.

"Petie! I brought a friend!" He hollered into the back room. He shot me his killer smile, but I would not give in.

"Hey squirt!" He ruffled Aaron's hair. The man was a ginger. He was short, had a beer belly, and noticeably old. He looked really friendly with his soft blue eyes. He resembled Aaron a little bit.

"Are you related?" I asked.

"He's my grandson." The man had an Irish accent.

"Ah...I see. Nice to meet you Mr...?" I extended my hand.

He shook it with both of his and replied enthusiastically. "Just call me old Pete you hear?"

I nodded.

Aaron interjected. "So this is my grandad'a store. I grew up here and when I was younger, I had an Irish accent."

"Were you a ginger?"

"I am. I dyed my hair." I asked why and Pete chuckled. "I was scared I had no soul."

"He had freckles as a baby too!" Pete exclaimed. I started at Aaron, perplexed. I could not imagine HIM with freckles. He would be cute, nonetheless.

Soon Pete and I were flipping through his pictures. I laughed until my stomach hurt and I pinched Aaron's cheeks. He was adorable! For a guy who called me a slut, my conscious added.

"Well dad we ought to go."

"Bye Aurora! I'm glad he has a good girlfriend like you!" He screeched.

I attempted to say otherwise but Aaron pulled me out. "Your turn."

"I like to ride in the car with the windows down." Instinctively, I rolled the windows down and stuck my hands out. He smiled at me and pulled out of the lot. He drove to god knows where while a silence lapped over us.

"Have you ever been really sick?" He asked.

"I've never had pox or anything like that."

"No I mean like your brother is." He stated.

"Well...I can't trust you. I-I've had mental health issues."

"Please. I won't tell anyone.." We bickered for five minutes until I caved.

"I'm OCD and have anxiety. I had a few episodes of anxiety where I stayed at a hospital."

"Huh? I have both and this other thing." His eyes were sad like his life.

"What?" I pleaded.

"Antisocial behavioral issues."

"Hey, don't you think about ditching me now." I grinned as he pulled into Friendly's. I ordered a small ice cream, seeing as I was feeling fat, and Aaron did too.

"Do you play sports?"

"Basketball. I quit everything else." I replied.

"Why? I play soccer and basketball."

"I sucked. Especially at soccer."

"Oh well. I can teach. you."

"That's cute in movies but no thank you." I was still angry. "Why am I a slut?" I asked for the 50th time.

"You knew I liked you and you just..." He mumbled, incoherently.

"You liked me?"

"Like...current tense."

"Oh uh...sorry?" I didn't know what to say. "Look Aaron..."

He cut me off. "I know I'm not worthy."

"I'm not allowed to date. Never am and never will be. I don't believe in love or a guy that's genuine finding me. I barely know you."

"I'm genuine."

"No. You like hugging and kissing, I don't. Who else doesn't? Cats? I don't like being touched."

"You seemed cozy with those guys."

"Stop it already!" I screamed. "I'm not a slut. Stop."

"I know but you let them hug you..."

"I let you hug me to. It doesn't mean I am alright with it."

"I don't get you Ror."

"Don't call me that."

"God you're such a .... You tell me I'm stupid, fight with me, and stay out with me."

"Maybe in another life!" I shouted and stalked off.