Under the Bridge

chapter twenty- "please"

"CAN WE POSTPONE math for today?" I ask, meeting Liam at his locker. Everything today has completely drained me. All I want to do is go home and lay in my bed. 

He raises his eyebrows. "No." He insists. "Even if we're not doing algebra, you're still spending time with me." 

"I want to be alone right now." 

"Which is the precise reason I'm hanging out with you." He says, hitting my shoulder. 

Even though I don't want to go out or do anything, I can't help but feel a little happy that he cares enough about me to spend time with me. I like spending time with him. I don't want to go anywhere, or do anything, and Liam knows that. He knows how I feel, I can see it in the way he's looking at me right now. 

"Will you play me something? On the piano or the guitar, I don't care. I just want to hear it." I say, truthfully. I would never normally ask for something like this, but since the concert, his voice has been in my head. 

I lean against the cold lockers, feeling the goosebumps on my arms. They looked like like mountains. I shiver. 

"I have a hoodie in my backpack if you want it." Liam has obviously noticed that I'm freezing. But it's not exactly subtle. The school blasts the AC in the halls at about -6000 degrees, even in the winter time. 

In the classrooms, you have a fifty-fifty chance of it being the sun or the subarctic. The issue with bringing a jacket is that I have to carry it around. I don't have time to stop at my locker between classes since we only have five minutes to pass. 

"Thank you." I mumble, and in a second, a black Thrasher jacket is thrown at me. 

I barely catch it, which makes Liam laugh. I don't feel up to smiling, but the energy around us is still nice. I feel at least a little content. He's not grinning, like he does sometimes. He's just melancholic in expression, which I think is his resting face regardless of what he's feeling. 

I tug the fabric over myself, and realize that Liam is at least a foot taller than me. The sleeves reach past my wrists and the fabric drapes to my knees. It's certainly warm though, it wraps me up like a blanket, and it smells like his cologne. 

I realize that I used to hate the scent, musky with lemongrass. Now, it calms me down. 

I think Liam just knows how to talk to me. I trust him, and he trusts me. That's why I've told him so much, and that's why he's done the same. That's why he makes me feel calm. 

 We're in the car now, my head is leaning back against the seat and my arms are draped around me. I've given him the code to my gate, so he just cruises into the driveway, which will be empty for at least five more hours. 

My mother and her work were like a couple stuck in the honeymoon phase. 

He has his acoustic guitar in the messy backseat, so we climb up the stairs and to my room. I take a seat on one side of my bed, and he sits at the foot. "I don't know if it's tuned." He says before plucking the strings a little bit. They sounded fine to me, but I knew nothing about the guitar. "What do you want me to play?"

"Anything." 

"Do you want me to sing?" He asks again, while checking the tune of the strings. 

"God yes." I say with a bit of passionate conviction. I realize that it comes out a bit forceful, and I feel embarrassed. "I love your voice."

He smiles, genuinely. "Most of the ladies do." 

I can't hit him from where I'm sitting, arms wrapped around my legs as my body is cloaked in the warmth of his hoodie. I throw a starburst that's sitting beside my bed at him instead. He manages to catch it in one hand.