Another Reason To Live (Watty Awards 2014)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"Gerard, you reallly didn't have to buy me the guitar," I said.  I felt guilty that he bought such an expensive item on impulse, simply because I enjoyed it.  I could've at least helped pay for it.

He smirked and continued to drive down the street towards my house. "Scarlette, I wanted to. Really. I could see it in your eyes how much you loved it," he replied in the same tone that I used.

He casually drove the car with his right hand on the bottom of the steering wheel, while his left was hanging out of the rolled down window, letting fresh air fill the car.

I sighed and looked behind me to see my guitar in its sleek black case, laying across the backseat. I felt myself smile at it because deep down, I really was thankful that Gerard had gotten it for me. I definitely owe him one.

"See!" he exclaimed happily, making me snap my head back at him.  He was smiling from ear to ear, knowing that he caught me admiring it. "Look at how happy you are!"

I couldn't help but breaking into a full smile as I turned around to face forward again. "Of course I'm happy, but I feel bad at how much it cost.  Guitars aren't exactly cheap."

He smiled at me as we stopped at a red light. "Music has no price, Scar," he said in a lighthearted tone, but I could tell that he was serious.

I gave him a pointed look. "Do you always have an emotionally deep response for everything I say?"

He chuckled and drove forward before he turned the corner that led to my neighborhood. "It just comes naturally, I guess," he explained with a shrug. "I have a better outlook on life now and I assume that it just allows more of it to flow out."

He drove down the street until he pulled into my driveway and shifted the car into park. I didn't move once he did because I didn't really want to get out of the car.  But I knew that I needed to. My mom was probably worrying out of her mind about where I had gone and I wouldn't hear the end of it from her. And Noah...he was still probably reading.

"Hey," Gerard said softly, turning my attention to him. I looked at him and met his hazel eyes. He gave me a small, reassuring smile. "Don't be worried about going in there. They love you and will understand that you left. And if you need anything, just head down to The Boombox. I'm usually there. If not, Frank will be and I trust him."

I nodded and returned his smile, feeling a bit better. "Thanks again for the guitar, I really owe you," I repeated for about the fiftieth time today.

He just smiled and reached in the back seat to grab the case. He got really close to me as he did and I caught a small whiff of his scent - cigarettes and laundry detergent.

"Here you go," he said as he carefully handed me the case. This was semi-awkward to do, since the case was several feet long and his car made moving it difficult.  He ran a hand through his black hair, messing it all up again before it fell perfectly into place before he replaced his hand on the steering wheel.

I smiled at him and opened the door and stepped into the warm air. While carefully holding onto what was now my guitar, I leaned down in the doorway to meet Gerard's eyes.

"And yes, you're off to a good start. Thank you," I said honestly.  He smiled and nodded his head before backing out of the driveway and disappearing down the road, leaving me standing in the middle of my driveway for several more moments like I was lost.

I carried my guitar under my arm and trudged up my porch.  Memories of the cop bringing me home re-entered my head as I walked through the unlocked front door.