It Started With A Book

Chapter 4

This had to be the craziest thing she had ever done.

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Brin knew it was his because she'd seen him with it at school.

They'd all but bumped into each other in the four years they roamed the halls of Clearview High.

As she crossed the parking lot, a pang of sadness struck her, the reality nestling in that she wouldn't be entering those doors or seeing that car come September.

There were a few dents, and a long scratch from the driver's door to the back door, that nothing short of an amateur paint job could fix.

Maybe she could paint it to make up for the situation at hand?

Shaking her head, she lifted up the trunk and climbed in.

Yup, this had to be the stupidest thing she'd ever done.

Twenty minutes after she'd beaten her high score on a matching game, she lifted her head to find Elliott dancing along to the radio.

The parking lot had switched to a four lane highway and the wind nipped her hair due to the open window on Elliott's side.

Brin snickered hearing him belt out the latest Ed Sheeran song, which then caused a series of unforeseen actions.

First, Elliott screamed.

Then, he checked his rearview mirror, and when he saw her brown tufts of hair, he screamed again.

He slammed on the breaks that resulted in a mild head injury for his unwelcome companion.

"What are you doing stowing away in my car?"

"Really? Stowing away?" She rubbed her head. "And anyway, you should be glad I'm here. I get to keep you company."

"Lucky me," he muttered.

Kicking away a half filled water bottle and a stinky gym bag, Brin scrambled over the middle backseat and landed on her side and onto the carpet.

He waited till she was right side up and combing her fingers through her hair.

"And why is that?" he asked, lowering a brow.

"Clearance."

"Clearance?"

"The only way anyone is getting into the back of the library is if they are an employee of said library or Widgets."

"Why only those two places?"

"Because," she answered matter-of-factly, "employees need to have access to the back of the store, book, exchanges that sort of thing, they know where everything is and the owner has a thing for Jeff. And any friend of Jeff is a friend of hers."

"Jeff? Isn't he kind of--"

"Love is blind, my friend." Brin chuckled. Perhaps friend was a poor choice of words considering they were only strangers having a conversation, nowhere near the threshold of friendship.

He rotated the steering wheel and cleared his throat, while indicating.

The radio hummed softly, throughout the lingering silence.