Waves

April

The next couple of days pass by pretty normal- basically boringish. April seems different too. The only thing is it isn't in the big things that she seems different. It's in the small things, the things people don't normally notice but I can't help to. She acts like everything's normal, almost as if we're better off. I'm not completely sure if we are, but I don't want to say anything. When you look at her, like really and actually look you can see the slight changes she's trying her hardest to hide. Like at the dinner table when Michael isn't looking and she thinks I'm distracted she looks at the places where dad and Lacey used to sit with a broken expression. Lately she seems like she's been pulling herself into a shell and I can't figure out how to keep her out of it. I know I have to do something but I just can't figure out what.

Chuckling at myself I finish up straightening my hair. These thoughts are to intense for the first thing in the morning. April will be fine, and I'm not going to give up on her. So I just need to leave it at that for now. Smiling at myself in the bathroom mirror, I put on some concealer, mascara and eyeliner. Looking at myself I slightly nod in agreement with how well my makeup came out. Going over to my walk in closet I glance around at all my clothes. Picking out a pair of dark blue jeans a pink tank top, and a black holey sweater to go over it. Quickly changing I grab a pair of purple and pink striped socks and a pair of zebra striped off brand TOMS. Nodding at myself I quickly go back to the bathroom and slide on some lip gloss. Smiling at myself in the mirror I grab my bag from the window sill on my way out.

Pausing in Michael's doorway to make sure he's left, I quickly make my way down the stairs and grab a starbucks cold coffee-you know the one's in the glass bottles that you can buy at Macey's or Casey's. Throwing the bag over my shoulder and twisting the cap off my amazing caramel starbucks cold coffee thingie I prance down the front porch steps. Taking a swig of my delicious drinkie thingie I immediately freeze in place when I look up. James is sitting in his car in the driveway. Cap in one hand, drink in the other I stare wide eyed and openmouthed with my eyebrows furrowed as I stare at him. Like what the heck is he doing here? We didn't set up for him to come pick me up did we? While I'm standing there looking like a complete and utter idiot he opens his door to get out, and I can hear him chuckling.

When he steps out of the car I'm still stuck in my shell shocked faze. As he gets out of his car his chuckles form into a full blown laughing fit. Snapping out of my faze I feel my cheeks instantly flare up the color of a ripe strawberry and I quickly snap my mouth shut, unfurrowing my eyebrows. Trying to wait for him to end his laughing fit my embarrassment just rises as he can't seem to stop. Fidgeting I decide to take another drink hoping it'll distract me while he gets it all out of his system. It doesn't seem to work though. After about two more sips from my drink and he still hasn't been able to stop. Capping my drink I gently place it in my bag, and wrap my hands together.

After a couple more seconds I can't take it anymore. Huffing in frustration I call out, "James?"

He holds up a finger telling me to wait for a minute and it makes me even more mad. Sighing at myself I remember that it isn't his fault. I shouldn't be all mad like this, it's just cranky and me being mean.

"James," the softness of my voice finally breaks through his laughter and he looks up at me with a humorous twinkle in his eye and a full blown smile on his face. "What are you doing here? Did we make plans for you to pick me up or did you need me for something?"

Smirking at the confusion written all over me he shakes his head as he responds, "Nah. I just figured you might like a ride home considering the fact that I usually see you walking. Plus the fact that you're usually running a bit late."

Letting a smile of my own crack over my face I shake my head. "Thanks, I'd love a ride."

He gestures to the passenger seat and climbs back into the car so I follow my normal procedure when I get in buckling up, and placing my bag at my feet. Turning up the radio, I flip through the stations hoping to find a good song. Flipping through them I almost miss the song 'Concrete Angel'. Quickly flipping back to it, I turn the radio up further. Turning to stare out the window I prop my head up on my hand and watch the scenes go by. As Miranda begins to sing I start up with her, singing as quietly as possible. I barely even notice myself doing it, as I let my mind go blank. When the song finishes 'More than Miles' by Brantley Gilbert comes on. Realizing that James might not want to listen to the sad songs considering his happy persona this morning I quickly look at him.