Moonbow | Tyrus

Four

Cyrus's POV 

I step outside to see a boy in a white, Rush band T-shirt and jeans leaning against a BMW M3 Lightweight. I only know that car name because Jonah's had an obsession over them lately. The body of the car is white and overall pretty boxy, but the unique part is the blue, purple and red checkers around the right headlight. I've never seen one of them before in real life, and although I'm not quaking in awe, I'm positive Jonah would be. 

"This is your car?" I say as I get up to it. 

TJ smiles and spins to gaze at his vehicle the way I am. "Well, if by mine you mean bought for two grand from my brother who bought it from my cousin for nine grand, then yes, it's mine."

"So it's been well-loved," I summarize.

"I mean, it's probably got, like, twenty miles left before crapping out on me," TJ replies.

"Maybe it's time for a new car," I suggest with a laugh.

"Oh, it's definitely time for a new car," TJ agrees. "But I live on the edge."

The two of us laugh. 

"For some reason I imagined you'd be a blue Chevy truck kind of guy," I comment. 

"I'm actually saving up for one of those," TJ responds. "But first I kinda need a job."

"Did you have a job before?" I ask, wondering how he pays for gas. 

"Yeah, but I was...uh...I stopped working there."

Clearly, there's more to that story, but although I'm very curious to know it, and I'm no stranger to digging into the deepest depths of the people I just meet, I choose to hold off on this one. There will hopefully be plenty of time to ask him about that in the future. 

"Uh, hop in," TJ says after a second. 

I smile and curve around to the passenger's side to get comfy in the seat, and TJ settles into the driver's seat. Immediately, I'm wondering if maybe he speeds and that's part of why my dad doesn't like him. I would argue that that's not the best judge of character. Jonah drives like a mad man, but that's just because he has the strong belief that driving in Grand Theft Auto 5 and driving in real life "really aren't that different." Because of that, I'm used to gripping the overhead handle tight white the car is in motion. Somehow he's still never gotten a ticket. 

"Where are we going?" I ask. 

TJ just shrugs. "Who knows?"

The car's engine basically cries as it's kicked into action, and I'm surprised when TJ steers out smoothly into the centre of the road, staying at a good three miles per hour over the speed limit. It's still speeding. but it's not Jonah-speeding. 

The houses on Citrus Avenue are bathed in the glow of the dimming summer sun, and I gaze at them and their colourful flowerbeds that are tinted pink under the changing sky. The beautiful part of summer is that no matter what time of day it is, it's always warm, and I can walk home in the dark without needing a coat. However, I've never actually stayed out later than nine at my dad's house before, so I've never had to walk home at night, and today will not be a first. I've already gotten comfortable on the black and red-speckled seat, and I don't plan on getting home without it. 

"So tell me about you," TJ says. 

Most people have preplanned introduction lines that they can bring up when making first impressions, but I've never been able to pinpoint the important things to include in my own. That leaves me struggling every time someone asks me about myself. What do I start with? What's important? What's too weird or too boring?