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Huh. I wondered if they all had them. Maybe I needed one, too? I didn’t know, but I wanted one all the same. They looked cool, and I didn’t have enough jewelry, I could always use more.
“I could have run you over,” I grumbled as he clicked his seatbelt into place without my having to ask him to. I appreciated it. I wasn’t a safety nut, I just didn’t want anything bad to happen to one of the people I cared about when it could so easily have been avoided. I didn’t thank him, instead, I asked, “Why do you always do that to me? Do you have a death wish or something?”
Tyson slumped back in the comfy leather seat and sighed. He looked defeated, haunted even, and there were angry purple smudges under his eyes.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked quietly as I resumed backing out of the driveway, this time a whole lot slower than I had the first time. Not that it would have mattered, Tyson was the only idiot who’d stand behind my car while I was backing up. “You look sick. If you’re sick, please, pretty please, I beg you, try not to breathe on me.”
I hit the brake, again. The day had already taken its toll on me, and I was over it in a really big way.
“You know what? Never mind,” I said, shaking my head. “Get out.” If he got me sick I was going to kill him.
He looked at me with those big brown eyes of his. They softened, and he suddenly looked lost and sad. I preferred both to defeated, but, still…
“I’m not sick,” he murmured. “I promise you, girl, I’m not going to get you sick.”
“Then what’s wrong with you?” I asked. “Why do you look like you’re sick?”
He ran his fingers up and down the seatbelt, nervously. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat. There was something wrong with him, this wasn’t his normal behavior.
“Tyson,” I prompted.
“I went to see her,” he blurted in a rush.
I was more confused than ever now. “Went to see who?” I asked.
“Can we get out of here?” he countered without answering my question or explaining his strange behavior.
“Sure,” I said, as I blew out a heavy breath and eased off of the brake and backed out of the driveway. I had learned not to push with Tyson. He would talk if and when he was ready to. If I pushed, he would explode, and it would end badly for the both of us. Hurt feelings were never good for any relationship, most especially not for one like ours, because there were so many of us to take into consideration, so many different feelings to potentially get hurt.
We were cruising down the road, headed towards Dash’s cottage, when Tyson’s stomach let out a loud gurgling noise.
I coughed to cover up a snicker.
“Can we go somewhere to eat?” he asked, avoiding my eyes. “Do you mind? I’ll buy. I’m not ready to go to Dash’s yet. I don’t want to see anybody right now. Anyone but you, that is.”
I almost said, too bad, but managed to check myself before the words could come out of my mouth. I did not need to be fighting with Tyson, and from the look of him, I didn’t think he needed it either.
Just what in the hell was the matter with him? He was grouchier than normal, even for him.
I slowed the Rover down, pulled off to the side and illegally turned around in the middle of the road. No one was around, and Dash lived way out of town, out in the woods, so there usually wasn’t anyone around to see what went on out there.
We headed back the way we had come. I wished he’d said something when we’d left the house, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I cared. It’s not like I had something important to do. Bleeding myself wasn’t time sensitive; it didn’t seem to be working anyways. What did it matter if I got home to it sooner as opposed to later when it wouldn’t work anyways. Answer: it didn’t.
“Where do you want to go?” I asked without taking my eyes off the road to look at him. I’d look at him when he answered some of my damn questions and told me just what in the hell was the matter with him. I wouldn’t push, but that didn’t mean I had to be happy with the lack of information. The days where I was fine with being left in the dark were over.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked quietly.
I shrugged.
Was I?
I thought about it, really thought it over, and came to the conclusion that no, I wasn’t mad at Tyson. I was grumpy, though, and embarrassed with myself and the nasty exit I’d made at the big house. I had basically run away from Quinton because I didn’t want to face his anger over learning about Chucky and the anger I knew he held because of what I’d been doing in my free time. The one Alexander I wanted to keep his thoughts to himself, and the other one I was pissed because he was doing what I wanted the other one to.
It was official, girls were stupid, and I was one of them.
We made it to town in record time. One day, I was going to get myself pulled over for speeding, but I couldn’t seem to help myself; the Rover drove like a dream, and I hardly noticed when I was speeding now.
Tyson never did tell me where he wanted to go to eat. Instead, he sat hunched in on himself and stared out the window while looking like a lost little boy.
