Infatuated

The drive home was a lot different to the drive there, he spoke a lot more and started asking questions about how I’d found Nevada. Then he started asking random questions like my favourite book, TV show, and then he stopped on something unusual.

“So... you like wolves, huh?” He asked, he seemed intrigued by my choice of favourite animal.

“Yeah, yeah I do. What about you?” I asked him.

“Same, I don’t know anyone else who appreciates them,” he shrugged lightly. “But, at the same time I despise them,” I heard him mumble to himself. I turned to look at him. His knuckles were turning white with his firm grip on the wheel. His face was expressionless. Blank. I thought it best not to ask and turned my attention out the side window. You couldn’t see anything, it was all pitch black. The only thing I could make out were the street lights as we flew past them.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before he spoke up.

“Where do you want me to drop you off?” he asked.

“Oh, just drop me off near school, I only live down the street from it,” I explained. He turned to look at me, drooping his arm lazily around the back of my head rest. I smiled at him in a reassuring manner.

“Yeah don’t worry about it,” I nodded, he smiled back.

“Good,” was all he said before he returned to looking out the front window, he’d seemed to drive perfectly even while keeping his eyes fixated on me. He kept his arm round the back of my seat the whole way back. I didn’t pay any attention to where we were going until we came to a halt. I turned and watched as he removed his arm and stopped the engine. When I looked out the window I saw we were outside my house, what?

“How did you know where my house is?” I whispered, more to myself than him as I stared at my house in confusion. He then appeared at my door, opening it and leaning down to me. He placed his lips next to my ear.

“I live three doors down,” he whispered, followed by a small chuckle. Well that explained it. He straightened himself up again and stepped to the side, allowing me to get out.

“You don’t have to keep opening the door for me you know?” I told him. He merely shrugged in reply as he shut the same door, walking with me towards the small building.

“It’s a nice thing to do though,” he counter-argued. I laughed.

“Well, it’s very nice of you,” I complemented as we reached the front door.

“I try,” he grinned before looking from me to the door. I suppose he was looking for his queue to leave?

“Yeah, I suppose I better go,” I nodded. He turned to look at me once more.

“Well, actually, I think I need to meet your mom first, she isn’t gonna be too happy,” he explained, this took me by surprise. He hardly knew me, but he wanted to meet my mom? I shrugged it off anyway and reached for the door when it flung open, revealing mother. Taylor was right, she wasn’t happy.

“Autumn Hazel Matthews, where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried sick! You didn’t even ring me!” She started screaming before Taylor cleared his throat, distracting her.

“Oh, hello, I’m so sorry I didn’t realise we had a guest,” the change of mood was almost sickening.

“I’m sorry for keeping Autumn so late, Mrs Matthews,” my mother cut him off.

“Oh, call me Charlotte” she grinned. Oh god, no she was thinking bad things.

“Charlotte,” he corrected himself, flashing a dazzling smile.

“You see I’m new to town and I needed someone to show me round,” he trailed off.

“Please, don’t worry about it,” she grinned sneaking a sly look towards me. I felt myself turning red, causing Taylor to laugh as Mom closed the door.

“Well I best go; I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” he spoke taking both of my hands and leaning forward. My heart began to race. I knew what he was gonna do. He turned at the last minute and instead spoke softly into my ear.

“Your Mom’s still watching, thought I’d give her the satisfaction of letting her think she’s right,” I felt him smirk against my hair as he pulled away, letting go of my hands and walked away from me, not saying another word.

I stood watching him. I bit my lip and growled to myself, frustration getting the better of me. I reopened the front door and walked through only to see he was right, stood on the other side peering out the small window had been my mother. She acted oblivious, it really wasn’t working. I rolled my eyes and headed up the stairs. How could I let myself feel frustrated just because he didn’t do what I’d thought? What is just the annoyance of knowing I wasn’t right?