Unwritten Pages

Chapter Thirty-Two: Drew's Moment

     I don't drive. I sit in the passenger seat and occasionally give Desiree worried looks. She looks extremely frustrated. I don't understand why she's taking out her anger on the poor kid, but I don't ask. She looks ready to snap at anyone. She's also muttering things under her breath.

     The boy is sitting in the back, looking like a scared animal. I'm pretty sure that Desiree is scaring him. I offer him a smile and he manages to give a nervous smile back. Then he stares out the window and begins to rock back and forth.

     In attempt for a small talk, I say, “so you never got around to telling us your name,” I say. He looks up at me briefly. He looks like he can't believe I would even want to talk to him. Especially in a moment like this when I'm  almost sure that Desiree is swearing under her breath.

     “I-I'm um...” he looked away from me, seeming to forget his name. “I...I'm...” He closes his eyes in concentration. I'm about to laugh at him, but I don't. I manage to keep quiet while he's trying to remember his name.

     “My n-name is...” he trails off again. “Oh r-right! A-Alan!”

     Does it really take that long with remember what your name is? I think to myself. I don't say this to Alan because I know it'll upset him. He seems like the guys to become easily upset with everything.

     “Do you attend the same high school as Winter?” I ask. I never pay attention to the people in my class. That's why I don't really know a lot of people at school. Not that I really care, though.

     Alan shook his head. “N-no. I-I went t-to a p-p-private s-school.” He's stuttering so much that it sounds like it's going to be permanent on him. I feel rude to ask about the stutter, but I can't help it.

     “Is that normal?” I ask. “You know, stuttering? Do you stutter a lot?”

     “O-only when I-I'm n-nervous,” Alan admitted. “I-I'm usually n-not like t-this.” He attempts to give me a smile but fails miserably.

     “You don't need to be nervous around us,” I tell Alan. “We're not going to kill you.” I lean forward so only Alan can hear what I say next, “well, unless it's Desiree. She looks like she can kill you right now.”

     Alan gives a sharp cry that makes Desiree lose grip of the wheel for a moment. “Geez!” she growls at Alan. “Keep your mouth shut, for God's sake!”

     “Hey,” I say to Desiree. I know better than to tell her to calm down. She'll go berserk if I do that. I look for something else to say. “Don't scratch my car,” I finally come up with. Desiree rolls her eyes.

     “Then tell that kid not to scream anymore. Has anyone told him now annoying he is?” Apparently not. I don't say anything and Desiree says, “guy in the back—you're annoying,” she says.

     “Sorry,” I tell Alan, “she's usually not like this.” I can hear Desiree let out a short unamused laugh at this.

     “O-oh,” Alan says, his eyes wide. He's looking at Desiree like he thinks she's insane. And maybe she has gone insane. “I-I'm s-sorry,” he tells us.

     “How old are you?” I ask, “are you a high schooler too?” I don't think he's a high schooler. He's too clear-faced. And he sometimes speaks in a squeaky voice. Maybe he's a niner.

     Alan nods quickly. “Y-yes,” he says. “I met Winter a while b-back in one of her e-extra classes. Um...a-art, I think. Or something else. We knew each other.”

     Huh. He must be the student who had to use markers for his art class. The only person Winter ever mentions in her art class is Aiden. Alan probably wasn't important enough to be mention by name.