I Can't Make You Stay

We had taken the car to the game. Which meant Adam was excited to be driving around and decided we were going on a joy ride to the lake.

“Why are we in this death bucket again?” I asked him, holding on to the seat for dear life. God only knows how in the world the state let Adam Lazzara get a license. And here I thought I couldn’t drive, this kid was ignoring all traffic lights.

“Don’t call my baby a death bucket!” Adam yelled. His tires screeched as he made a sharp right turn into an abandoned elementary school parking lot.

“Adam…” I said calmly. “This is not your baby. This is your dad’s car. Probably his prized possession, and he let you, the town maniac, take it out.”

The ’89 Camaro screeched to a halt in the middle of the parking lot after Adam completed a full doughnut and he went to face me. He shut off the Beyoncé song that was blaring on the radio and his eyes burned into mine.

“You don’t…really think I’m the town maniac do you?” There was a level of softness he reached when he asked me, and part of my heart melted at his words. I hadn’t meant to offend him, I was just joking around.

“Adam, you know I wasn’t serious. If anything, you’re my town maniac.”

“Good answer,” and then he floored it out of the parking lot and headed down a street perpendicular to Main Street.

“Where are we going again?”

Only response I got was a shrug. My so-called best friend was still in his absurd Frisbee outfit, which his friends ridiculed him about the entire game. My Red Berry buzzed in my lap, and when I looked down I saw Matt’s name flash across the screen. I had forgotten I was texting him the entire game, in between my disturbances of randomly running on the field to tackle Adam and his friends.

So wen r u headin home?

The only thing that could bother me more than bad hygiene was poor spelling skills. However Matt had good hygiene, I decided, but he did have a crappy Razr, so I excused his text-talk.
Until I convince him to get a Sidekick.

Soon, hopefully. My maniac best friend took out the car, so we’re kinda just driving around now. I’ll text you when I do though

“Are you always going to be texting Matt now?” Ad spat, as we came to a stoplight. His eyes met mine, and I gulped. How was I supposed to tell him that we probably would all the time now, since he was my boyfriend.

“I, uh, Ad…”

“He asked you out, didn’t he,” Adam knew exactly how to speak in statement form, but with a question lingering. I’ve learned not to question his ability to do this, simply because he goes on a long tangent about his speech.

Sometimes Adam was too charismatic for me.

“Well yes, but-“

“You said yes.”

And too much of a quick guesser, Adam was. A lot of the time I wouldn’t have to say a word to Adam, and he could figure out what I was going to say. Was it creepy, was it due to so many years of being best friends, sadly, I may never know.

He turned off onto a side street that would entitle him to turn into either the local 7/11 parking lot, or CVS parking lot.

“You know, sometimes,” he began. “I just want to leave myself here. In the midst of these two stores, and not have to make a decision which one I want to go to. People could hit me, people could swerve past me, but either way I wouldn’t have to choose whether I wanted a Slurpee, or some drugs. What if I want both, huh? They couldn’t just combine both stores and create a super place?”

“Adam…” I began. This was why I didn’t like talking to Adam sometimes, because his little tirades could get in the way of everyday life. Small decisions would cause him to shut down, stop, and think about it – and from time to time lives were put in danger.

Mostly mine.

A car honked behind us as we sat idly between the two parking lots. Lights approached us from down the street, but Adam kept his foot on the brake and his eyes dead ahead. “Adam, c’mon, move the car.”

He ignored me. Only god knew what in the world Adam was thinking right now, as the lights got closer, and the car behind honked its horn louder, and the driver probably looked for a way to get around us. He couldn’t though; we were exactly in the middle, and any which way he went, would cause him to hit the car.

The lights got closer, and they couldn’t see Adam and I sitting here in the stupid Camaro because Adam didn’t drive with the lights on (psycho, I know). I tugged on his shirt, as the car got nearer, the lights brighter and the horn behind us louder.

“Adam!” I screamed, and I could hear the tires screech loudly from outside as he turned quickly into the parking lot of the 7/11, his front bumper hitting the concrete. We drove quickly into a vacant spot, and before I knew it Adam had flown out of the car and slammed the door.

“Hey!” I yelled after him as I closed my door and chased him towards the brightly lit building. “Lazzara!” When I finally caught up to him, directly at the door, I spun him around to face me and smacked him hard on the chest. “The fuck’s your problem?!”

We stared at each other, blocking the door, a different emotion held within us. I was flowing with anger and adrenaline, I was almost in a car accident, my best friend was a lunatic, etc... Adam, on the other hand, looked confused and concerned.

“Excuse me?” We turned to look at a frail looking old woman, shakily holding her purse in her hands. I backed up as Adam opened the door for her and closed it behind her when she safely entered. I grabbed him by his stupid looking polo and dragged him towards me, away from the door.

“Well?” I barked, my eyes on him again. He looked away and ran his fingers through his hair, sighing in frustration.

“Why’d you say yes, Aubrey?” He asked quietly, watching me intently.

I shrugged, “I like him. He’s nice, and I don’t see any real problem with being his girl friend.”

I watched Adam, waiting for him to give me a reason. With my hip cocked, I rested my hand on it and continued to stare at his clouded, confused eyes. I needed a reason, any reason as to why this was a problem, why things were becoming so different. Surely Adam hadn’t made such a big deal with my previous boyfriends, no matter how much he disliked them.

With another sigh, Adam’s hands came to my face, bringing me a bit closer to him. “I just want you to be happy, Aub. I, personally, think you deserve better but…if you like him then I guess I’m okay with it.”

A smile came on my face, which was reflected on Adam’s and just as I was about to thank him and say he better be okay with him a deep, loud noise rang out. As a response, I pretty much all but jumped on Adam, screaming. I knew that familiar noise, recognizing it as thunder. This means that its partner, lightning, would accompany it.

The two things in the world I’m afraid of more than anything.

“Oh Aubrey, relax,” Adam told me and guided me towards the door. With one arm around me, he took the other and opened the door. “Look, inside.”

I quickly ran in as Adam followed and put his arm around me again, “How about we stay home and watch a movie? We can buy loads of junk food right now and get under the covers.”

I nodded and gripped my best friend tight as the lightning started, and then the thunder again. We walked over to the snack section, to which Adam picked up a couple chocolate Hostess cupcakes, two Snickers bars, handed them to me and headed towards the back. “What should we watch then?”

“Ooh, Ghostbusters!” I exclaimed as we approached the Slurpee machine. Adam took out two medium sized cups (leaving the first one on the dispenser. Never take the first one) and dropped mine under the Coca-Cola and his under Cherry.

“No, Fight Club!” Adam has a Brad Pitt addiction problem.

“Ugh but we always watch that!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh, you big fat confused homosexual. We’re gonna watch Ghostbusters tonight!”

“Nah, Fight Club,” you can see where this was going. We continued to scream the same conversation over and over at each other in the back of the store like children, causing the only guy working at the register, to stare.

When we realized, Adam waved and went back to the Slurpee machine to fill the cups before the guy kicked us out.

“Fight Club,” I heard muttered as I went to look at the cookies beside the Slurpee stuff. I picked up a box of powdered mini doughnuts; Adam’s other weakness and said, “Ghostbusters.”

“Fight Club,” he hissed, and picked up the cups and box of Entenmanns’s doughnuts and brought them towards the counter.

“Ghostbusters,” I hissed at his back and dumped everything at the register.

--

“Well, what do you want me to do? You just want me to hit you?” Adam said along with Edward Norton. “C’mon, do me this favor.” “Why?” “Why? I don’t know why, I don’t know. Never been in a fight. You?”

“Adam shut up,” I groaned, trying to enjoy the movie. Adam won. Adam always wins with me, when I’m having a good day. I give in to him too well sometimes.

“No,” Adam grinned down at me, cuddled up to him. “But that’s a good thing.” “No, it’s not. How much can you know about yourself if you’ve never been in a fight? I don’t wanna die without any scars, so come on, hit me before I lose my nerve.”

“Adam!” I yelled, and bit him on the chest.

“Alright, alright!”

“I don’t know about this,” he muttered. “I don’t either. Who gives a shit? No one’s watching, what do you care?”

I mock-glared up at him, but all he did was innocently smile down at me. Adam had a cute, soft smile, which warmed my heart. I loved to see him smile, and I loved the special sparkle hidden in his eyes when he smiled at me. This kid could just be too cute, and it made me want to kiss him on the cheek.

I attempted to, but I only made it to his neck. Adam grunted softly in response, but his eyes were glued to the television as he continued to mouth every word.

“Oh?” I said in a mischievous tone. “A new soft spot?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. “Motherfucker! You hit me in the ear!” “Well Jesus, I’m sorry.”

I smirked at him, his hair tickling my eyelashes and moved to softly kiss his neck again. Adam did the same grunting noise, but didn’t move from his position. His arm was still protectively wrapped around me, his warm hand in the same spot it always was in. My hand went to the other side of his neck as I did it again, and received a louder grunt as a reply.

I continued, occasionally licking and nibbling at his skin. It was like I was in a trance, a trance I’d only been in once before with Adam. The noises Adam was making were changing, first from grunts to groans, and now to moans, especially when I moved lower.

“Aubrey,” he struggled to say, Brad Pitt and all his juicy gorgeousness forgotten. “Aubrey s-s-stop...”

But I didn’t, and kept going until Adam flung me off of him and shrank away from me, sitting upright on the edge of the bed. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair; now out of its ponytail and mumbled an apology.

But Adam didn’t respond, instead I heard nothing but his heavy breathing. I reached for him but he pulled back from me. He put his head down, hair hanging off in front of his face as he looked away and he told me not to do that again.