The Quiet
Unknown
Once I was inside, I closed the door and leaned against it. I moved to the window next to the door and shifted the curtain. The only thing I could see was part of Clay’s hood, because the angle from where I stood cut off the rest.
“What are you still doing here?” I whispered. “Why don’t you go home?”
There was a noise suddenly, over the wind and rain, and I had to listen again to make sure it was what I thought. Slowly, I turned the knob and yanked the door open.
Clay stood, drenched, keys in hand. His brown hair clung to his face and his blue eyes were annoyed, but he smiled all the same. He gestured for me to let him in, and I stepped back.
“I wish I could do magic,” he said he crossed the threshold.
“How come?” I asked.
“So I could dry myself off and fix my car. But this is okay, being stranded in a big house, with you.”
“I’m not that exciting to be around,” I told him. “And I hate this house.”
He raised an eyebrow and laughed. “You’re actually very refreshing. You aren’t like the other girls at school. And this house is amazing, at least to me. Why don’t you like it?”
“It’s too big. Most of the time I’m alone in it and it freaks me out.” I started to walk toward the bathroom. Clay followed. Once we were there, I took a towel from the closet and threw it at him.
He caught it and draped it over his head, trying to dry his hair. When he was done, he handed the towel back to me and smirked. Then he looked around the room.
“This is the nicest bathroom.” He whistled softly, and then looked at my expression. “I mean it. It’s so clean and white.”
“It gets dirty easily,” I said to him. “Are you hungry?”
“We can eat on your bathroom floor.” He grinned.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, my dad would love that. Come on, I’ll see what we have.” On the way out, I grabbed a towel.
The rain had let up some, but not enough so that Clay felt better about going out in it to try and fix his car. So we sat in the kitchen, eating sandwiches and talking about our families, school and jobs.
When my cell phone rang, I jumped. Thinking it might be my dad or sister, I checked. It was an unknown number. I pressed SEND.
I shouldn’t have answered.
“What are you still doing here?” I whispered. “Why don’t you go home?”
There was a noise suddenly, over the wind and rain, and I had to listen again to make sure it was what I thought. Slowly, I turned the knob and yanked the door open.
Clay stood, drenched, keys in hand. His brown hair clung to his face and his blue eyes were annoyed, but he smiled all the same. He gestured for me to let him in, and I stepped back.
“I wish I could do magic,” he said he crossed the threshold.
“How come?” I asked.
“So I could dry myself off and fix my car. But this is okay, being stranded in a big house, with you.”
“I’m not that exciting to be around,” I told him. “And I hate this house.”
He raised an eyebrow and laughed. “You’re actually very refreshing. You aren’t like the other girls at school. And this house is amazing, at least to me. Why don’t you like it?”
“It’s too big. Most of the time I’m alone in it and it freaks me out.” I started to walk toward the bathroom. Clay followed. Once we were there, I took a towel from the closet and threw it at him.
He caught it and draped it over his head, trying to dry his hair. When he was done, he handed the towel back to me and smirked. Then he looked around the room.
“This is the nicest bathroom.” He whistled softly, and then looked at my expression. “I mean it. It’s so clean and white.”
“It gets dirty easily,” I said to him. “Are you hungry?”
“We can eat on your bathroom floor.” He grinned.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, my dad would love that. Come on, I’ll see what we have.” On the way out, I grabbed a towel.
The rain had let up some, but not enough so that Clay felt better about going out in it to try and fix his car. So we sat in the kitchen, eating sandwiches and talking about our families, school and jobs.
When my cell phone rang, I jumped. Thinking it might be my dad or sister, I checked. It was an unknown number. I pressed SEND.
I shouldn’t have answered.
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