you can hear it in the silence

Part Five- November

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        "Where are we going anyway?" I ask Thomas, as he takes a left out of the library parking lot. You turn right to go to my house.

"Just a detour." He explains, green eyes fixated on the road ahead of him. The radio is turned off, the only sound in the car being the hum of the engine and our breath.

"I swear, if you try to murder me, I'll jump out of this car." Thomas scoffs in response.

"The only reason I'm driving you is because Rachel and Will would kill me if you got kidnapped or some shit walking home." Thomas keeps driving, and I look out the window. I recognize where we are, but I have no idea why we would be going to the town square at 10 PM. "So murdering you would be a bit counterproductive."

"That's reassuring." I nod, looking at the radio. "Can I play some music or something?"

"No." Thomas answers, shaking his head. "I don't like music on while I'm driving."

"I guess you really are a psychopath." Thomas hums in lieu of answering, parking in front of the coffee shop that my friends and I frequent. I didn't know it stayed open this late, but the lights inside were on, as well as the fairy lights on the deck. "Why are we getting coffee? I'm going to bed, like as soon as I get home."

"Maybe you are, but I probably won't." Thomas says, grunting as he gets out of the car and slams the black door shut. I take a breath and reluctantly follow. We walk silently across the sidewalk, and Thomas opens the door for me. "Ladies first."

The smell of coffee hits me as soon as I walk in the door, Thomas and I both basking in the scent. The shop is much quieter than usual, with minimal lights on and about two employees. Thomas strides up to the counter, and the cashier seems to recognize him immediately.

"Thomas!" The woman greets him. "I see you've brought a friend tonight." She smiles at me. I wouldn't call us friends, but Thomas doesn't object so I keep quiet. "The usual?"

"Of course, Margie." Thomas laughs, green eyes lighting up. When they're bright like this, they look like leaves brightened by the summer sun. "You want anything, Amelia?" I'm a bit taken aback by the offer, but I'm not about to turn down some coffee.

"Just a medium black coffee, please." I tell Margie, and Thomas hands her a ten dollar bill. The total was definitely about five dollars, but he might be loaded or something. That would be a fun plot twist. We grab our orders and thank Margie before going out onto the deck. Thomas sits on the curb, lit by the sparkling fairy lights and the stars up above. I sit next to him, the November wind biting the tip of my nose.

"I'm guessing you come here often?" I ask, keeping my eyes straight ahead on the road in front of us. There's no sign of any cars, just the empty cobblestone street, and the bookshop across from the coffee shop.

"Every night." Thomas confirms, taking a sip of his iced coffee. It looked like a latte of some sort. "A bit of a ritual, I guess." The moon is casting a soft light on his cheekbones, his eyelashes casting a shadow in contrast. Neither of us speak for a few minutes, letting the silence wash over us as we sip on our drinks. My mind is running a mile a minute, going through possible conversation topics that wouldn't result in arguing before I just blurt out the most pressing question I have.

"Why don't you like me?" I question, and Thomas turns to face me, a confused look on his face. "I just don't remember ever doing anything to you besides reaching for the book you wanted."