“Because it’s
“No, I can relate to it for some reason.”
“Why? You wake up on a lot of random couches?”
“No, I just get it.”
He tapped his finger against the steering wheel and gave me a sidelong glance. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Some melodies just talk to me. The lyrics don’t matter.”
We drove in silence for a minute. Brick buildings, kayak places, and bike riders whizzed by.
“So if you love cars so much, how come you don’t drive?” he asked.
I focused on two older women in the car next to us. One had purple hair. “I don’t have a license.”
“Why not?”
“I kind of flunked the test.” I didn’t want to tell him there had actually been six of them.
“Kind of? We’ll have to fix that.”
“Are you going to take it for me?”
He chuckled. “No, but I’ll give you free driving lessons.”
“Um, I drive pretty bad. You really don’t want to do that.”
He pointed to my right. “There’s the church.”
“It’s the street right after the white-and-black house.”
“Drea, there are several that color.”
“The one with all the yellow flowers in the yard.”
He nodded and sped up. Maybe he just wanted to get rid of me.
“You live on Daisy Street for future reference,” he said after we turned the corner.
“Thanks. It’s that ugly, yellowy-green house on the right.”
“I like your neighborhood. It’s got character.”
“It’s just old.”
He sighed, shaking his head. We pulled up next to the curb, and I was relieved to see Mom’s Toyota missing from the driveway. She’d ask a million embarrassing questions if she saw Justin drop me off.
“So, um…”
“We need to figure out what we’re doing for our film project,” he said.
I avoided his gaze. “You could come in, I guess.” After all, I
“I didn’t mean now.”
“Oh, okay. Well, bye, then.” I pushed the door open and climbed out, sliding my backpack over my shoulder.
“Hey, I didn’t say no.” He ejected the Black Lab CD out of his player and waved it at me. “Want a copy?”
I attempted to smile even though my knees were shaking. “Yeah.”
He shut off the car and hopped out, gazing at the trees lining the street.
I unlocked the door and prayed Grandma wasn’t home. “Hello? Grandma?”
No answer. My muscles relaxed.
Justin followed me to the basement and made an approving sound when he spotted my guitars and Mac Pro. “Nice.” He nodded at the computer. “Is that an eight-core?”
“No, it’s an older dual-core. Got it off eBay.” The setup had cost me years of birthday and holiday checks.
“Cool.”
“I’ve got Final Cut, so we can edit the video here—i-if you want to.”
He grinned and walked over to my work desk, scanning the effect pedals, wires, and boards in various piles.
“I’m, um, building some pedals. Hopefully, I can sell them later.”
“I can see that.” He seemed to have a permanent half smile when he was around me.
“Is that funny to you?”
“Not at all. If I played guitar, I’d ask you to build me one.”
I walked over to my computer and jiggled my mouse to wake it up. The silver tower revved like a car engine—I loved that sound. Justin came up behind me, close enough to smell the gel in his hair. Just feeling his warmth made my knees weak again.
“Here,” he said, slipping the CD case into my hand.
“Thanks.” I stuck the CD into the drive, trying to block out the burning sensation on my skin. Mom told me I had
