THERE SHE GOES | ❝This is the worst day of my life.❞
Seventeen-year-old Hallie could have thought of a million better places to be staying for two weeks than her Aunt's home. But since her parents have cleared off for a romantic getaway, she wi...
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CHAPTER ELEVEN ❛ forgetting with him. ❜
"HEY, THIS WINDOW ACTUALLY WORKS." I SAID, ASTONISHED as I rolled down the passenger window in Stanley's car without much effort required: no creaking, not as agonisingly slow, and it went down all the way. A gust of fresh evening air swept through — tainted only slightly by the town's pollution — and it carried wisps of my hair along with it, glowing brilliantly orange in the glow of streetlights like strings of flames.
"Yeah," he grinned, side-eyeing his window that was only down halfway. "I mean, they're all pretty slow, but the driver's one is the worst."
He proceeded to tell me that it was because this car was pretty old, having belonged to his father before: a 1978 Ford Fairmont, apparently. Although that meant nothing to me. It made me think to myself, What is it with guys generally being obsessed with cars? It's literally just a moving heap of metal with comfy leather seats.
I rested my arm on the rolled-down window and leaned my head on it, feeling the breeze wash over my head and body. My gaze fell on the rear-view mirror, and the road disappearing behind us as we drove. A neon sign glowed mint green and bright red in the dark above the doorway to a Chinese takeout; a lady jogged past in running gear with headphones sitting on her head; a man sat on a bench with a cigarette between his fingers and puffed a ring of smoke from his lips.
We'd been driving around for about twenty minutes now, and were still going fairly strong. At the beginning I'd shed my concerns over Sydney's powers, which Stan seemed to empathise with completely. I didn't want to go into too much detail about it, since I could have told him far too much far too soon. We talked briefly about Syd instead, without the looming burden of her kinetic abilities. I recollected childhood memories of her and I which he eagerly listened to and laughed at when the time was right.
But as that twentieth minute approached, there was a monotone beeping from my pocket, and a vibration. I slipped my phone out of it and peered at the screen.
An incoming call from Mom.
I felt my hands tremble slightly, as I recollected our dispute hours before. We'd never argued like that before. Hell, we'd never even communicated so openly before. And I don't know what I was thinking, spitting all those lies about quitting cello, because I didn't mean it. Well. Not really. It had crossed my mind the past year.
Not because I didn't want to pursue the cello anymore, absolutely not. Because... I couldn't even say it...
No. I glanced over at Stanley, who's head was gently bobbing to the rock song playing. You don't have time for this right now. For her.
