A Prose With No Direction

the ultrasonic waves they can't hear

"Your meals are in this bag and your condiments and sides are in this other one," the Sonic lady states, handing Hugh two bags. "And here are your drinks. Your total is twenty-eight, fifty-six."

Hugh hands me the bags of food and drops the drinks into the cup holders, handing the pretty lady with ebony, smooth skin money. 

"No change, please," he says with a smile before the lady zooms away in her rollerblades. He looks at me. "Dig in."

I frown at him. "I should've paid for that."

He takes out his burger and unwraps it. "You paid for the dinner last time," he states, biting into his quarter-pounder. "You said we'd take turns. It was my turn anyway."

"You know, if someone offers you to pay," I begin, taking out my chicken sandwich, "it's rude to decline their offer."

"The same goes for you," he teases, glancing at me. "You're the one who's rude, offering to pay and all and declining my kindness."

I scoff. "You're incredible, Hugh."

"I know I am," he answers with a smirk. 

I look at him like I would at an obnoxious monkey, but I end up smiling in the end. 

"Hugh," I start, setting my chicken sandwich down. I look at him. "About the other night. The sleepover..."

Hugh snorts, shaking his head with a shy smile. "Yes, I know, I made things uncomfortable," he replies instantly, eyes making contact with mine. "I don't know what was wrong with me that day; I'm guessing it was the sugar rush from the boba. Anyways, I'm sorry if I crossed the line. I won't do it again."

I look at him, confused. "That wasn't what I was going to talk about, but okay."

"Wait, what?" He says. 

"What I was meaning to say was I'd wish we'd do that more," I say, feeling the wrapper of my burger. "I wish you'd stay with me longer, sleepover more at my place, and just talk more." I look at him. "You could even do your online school at my place."

Hugh's eyes widen, staring at me for a while before his hand finds its place at the back of his neck. "Are you proposing I live with you then?" He teases, chuckling.

"Didn't you ask me if you could before?" I say. I look down. "Look, you're the first person I've invited into my house in a very long time. And you're the first person I've asked to actually live with me and keep me company." I smirk. "Honestly, you should feel blessed."

"What's with you all of a sudden?" He asks. 

I purse my lips. "I don't really know, Hugh," I say, squeezing the burger. "I just... Since the sleepover and all, my chest feels tight every time I remember you being with me. When I see your face, my lungs feel like they're shrinking, and it's really hard to breathe. My heart starts pumping really fast, but it's not like it's pumping because I'm anxious or afraid. It just pumps whenever you come to mind." I finally look at him. "Even my cheeks get red all of a sudden, like they're sunburnt. It's the color that sometimes shows up on your ears when you're talking to me."

Hugh bites his lower lip, eyes wider than ever before. He rubs the nape of his neck more, his eyes scouring the car for somewhere to look. His ears bright up again, and so does his cheeks—but they're more of a pink rather than a red. 

He leans against his headrest, head looking up at the truck's ceiling. 

"You're really not that clueless, Clara, right?" He asks me, his hand running down his face. He sits up and looks at me. "Do you know what you just said?"