Stay With Me ✔

2.

"So this is what you get paid to do?" Rave picks up a stack of vinyls and starts sorting through them as I watch from where I'm sitting on the floor, a stack of CD's and vinyl albums surrounding me. 

"This is what I get paid to do." I continue to sort through the newest shipment of music as Rave walks around looking at all the different albums and equipment. He trails his fingers over the titles on the shelf and every so often he'll pull one out and examine it before sliding it back in its place. 

 It's been a few weeks since Rave gave me that first ride to the station, and ever since then he's been my ride at least twice a week. We don't really talk at school, partly because we have no classes together and have different groups of friends, and partly because I think we both like that this budding friendship is our own little secret. I know that rumors surround Rave and the people he associates with, and I'm not ready to have my name dragged through the halls yet. 

We have exchanged numbers though and I guess you could say that we text a lot. When one of us falls asleep during a conversation at night, it picks right back up in the morning and usually continues all day. Surprisingly, we have a lot in common and the conversation flows easily. 

After the first week or two, I had gotten over the fact that he's Rave Matthews - the school's hottest guy and baddest boy. I'm starting to think the whole bad boy thing is just another rumor. 

"How'd you get into music?" He asks as he takes a seat on the couch behind me, stretching out his legs and resting his head right next to mine. 

"My dad loved it, he was in a band in high school and college, then he studied music and eventually taught about it at the University." I could feel Rave's breath on the back of my neck as he looked over my shoulder at the stacks of music scattered around the floor. I could also feel the heat creeping into my cheeks, as he reached around and pulled my hair back so that he could get a better look at what was in my hand. 

"Are you blushing, Kylie?" He laughed - not in a way that was trying to embarrass me, but in a way that almost sounded like he was flirting with me.

----------------------------

"You did not." Whitley says in disbelief when I tell her and Erin about my encounter with Rave this afternoon. 

"I did." 

"But why would you be so cold to him? He's finally talking to you again." 

"Because, Whit, he can't just pick and choose when he wants to be friends and talk to her, she's not a toy." Erin says, repeating my thoughts from earlier. 

I look at Whitley, and point at Erin, "What she said." 

"Okay, I get that. I just thought you'd be excited to talk to him again." She takes a seat beside Erin on the bed and I stay seated on the chair in the corner of Erin's room. 

"I was, but I'm also mad at him, and I'm not going to forgive him that easily." Both of my friends nodded their heads in understanding, and I'm glad that my words finally sounded convincing to them - hopefully I can stick to my word. 

We move on to a new topic and Erin's mom shouts up the stairs to ask if we're staying for dinner, Whit and I take that as our cue to leave. Erin's mom is a stay at home mom now since she had the twins two years ago, but before that she was a workaholic. Mrs. White hates not having a project or hobby, so her current obsession is cooking - which she's not doing very well at. 

Whitley and I say goodbye to Erin, who gives us a look of betrayal, and wave to the rest of her family as we walk towards our separate cars and head to our own homes for dinner. At Whitley's house, her grandma cooks a home cooked meal every night, which is absolutely delicious no matter what it is or how odd the name of the meal sounds.