Adore You | ✔

Chapter 5

Authors note: If you like my story please vote and comment. It lets me know that you enjoy the direction it is going in and is really encouraging.  Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Enjoy!

Chapter 5

The car ride was—quiet. I kept sneaking glances at him and noticed he somehow looked more uptight today despite his relaxed attire. He wore a loose white band t-shirt and black jeans. His hair was wilder than last time. He wasn't smoking, but I smelled the musty smell of weed in the car mixed with his cologne and spicy scent I could not put my finger on.

I put my duffle bag on the floor of the car and leaned my seat back a bit. He didn't even acknowledge me.

He acted like a guy that was forced by his sister to pick up her friend early on a summer vacation morning. 

Which to be fair...

I suddenly felt like canceling. I felt embarrassed to be the reason behind his mood.

The distance to his house was around an hour according to his GPS. We drove the first 15 minutes in complete silence other than the jazz he had playing from a cassette. It was annoying. Both the crazy jazz he seemed to be fond of and the intoxicating smell in the car. I mean what was that?

After a few minutes of this, I got restless. I decided to look around his car, and that's when I noticed the milk crate full of vintage cassettes in the back seat.

"Woah," I said suddenly, struck with curiosity to see what he had.

"What?" he asked, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"That's a lot of cassettes."

"I like having options."

"Where do you find them? Thrift shops?"

"No. Internet."

"Can I see what you have?" I asked. This car ride was boring and I was about to jump out the window if I had to listen to anymore of the jazz he insisted on playing.

"I'm driving."

"When the car is stopped obviously."

"Whatever," he mumbled. Seeing that was the most affirmative thing he had said to me...ever, I decided I would take it as a yes. 

We were coming up to a red light, so I took the opportunity to unbuckle my seatbelt and climb into the back seat.

I saw him do a double take.

"Are you serious? Are you going to sit back there? You know the seatbelts back there don't work at all?" He said, glancing back at me through the review view mirror; his voice had a nervous edge and his eyes called me crazy in five different languages.

"Come back up, put on your seatbelt," he ordered. 

"Relax, I'll come back in a minute," I said. "I mean, does this car even have airbags? It's probably safer back here, like in buses. The seat would stop me from flying out," I countered.

"Right," he responded, seemingly annoyed.

I started looking through his music cassette collection. He had so many cassettes: S and G, some Bossa, Peter Paul and Mary, Tom Petty. Pretty much every Beatles album transferred into a cassette. I decided I wanted to settle with the Simon and Garfunkel and took out the Peter Paul and Mary for later. They seemed like good road trip choices.

I climbed back into the front seat, which was somehow more challenging than going into the back seat.

"Jesus," he breathed, grabbing my left arm to steady me into my seat.