Ripe

Chapter 8

♪Chapter Song♪

"Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol

(I do not own this song)

***

Chapter 8

SHIVERING, I TOSS my nike duffle bag into the trunk of one of Charlie and Careen's cars. With a soft thunk, the duffle lands beside Andrew's backpack: the backpack that contains his clothing and what-not for our mini-trip. Charlie and Careen had decided to bring more than either of us, so their things are stationed in the very back of the trunk, where there is more room.

Erin had checked my bag several times to make sure I would have everything I could possibly need. It was hard for her to let go of me when we hugged before I walked across the street, not even ten minutes ago, ready to hit the road with Andrew and his family. Dad was more accepting of it, but he did pull Andrew aside. I assume it had something to do with protecting me on the streets and going everywhere I go.

Basically, not much time alone.

I'm used to having time alone, especially in such an intimate place as a bed room. I have never shared a room with anyone after infant-hood, let alone a bed.

That's right. I have to either share a bed with Andrew or sleep on the floor, all because double bedded rooms are all taken or reserved for the next two nights we'll be in New York City.

I don't have a big problem with that. I might be a hormonal teenager, and Andrew as well, but we obviously have our personal and physical bountries that are not to be crossed. We both understand, I'm sure.

I securely shut the car's trunk before moving to the door that has the seat adjacent to Andrew's. I slide into the seat and shut the door behind me, teeth chattering.

"Are we all set?" Charlie asks.

I strap on my seatbelt and nod. Although I'm making an effort to talk to Andrew, I still haven't found my voice around his aunt and uncle. They're amazingly kind people, but I just don't want to create anything for them to hate about me. That's why it's better to keep quiet.

"Yeah, Charlie," Andrew says, strugging off his coat.

I never payed so much attention to him, or anyone, doing the simple action of removing a coat, but watching him do it catches my interest for reasons unknown. His coat is woolly, expansive, and heavy-looking, but not once does he hesitate or put effort into taking the thing off. I watch as his hand rests the coat on the empty seat between us, and after, I feel my eyes travel from his hand and up the length of his muscled arm.

Since when did he have muscles?

My eyes stop at the sleeve of his white t-shirt. I don't think I've ever really seen him in a plain white t-shirt before, or any t-shirt for that matter. I only remember seeing him in hoodies and sweaters, never a top as casual as a white t-shirt.

I like the way it looks.

After gaining some sense, I pull my eyes away from his body and ask him an obvious question.

"Why would you take your coat off when it's below freezing outside? Aren't you cold?" I shiver as the words leave my mouth. I still feel the cold from standing outside.

A chuckle escapes his lips, and at this same moment, Careen or Charlie decide to put on some fifties music. Fats Domino's 'Ain't That a Shame'.

Andrew turns to me, pulling out his phone and headphones in the process. "I don't get cold very often, but I thought I told you that already. Plus, this drive is more than three hours long. The AC heat is on blast and it's already been warming up the car for a good fifteen minutes now. It feels nice."