I grin. “So, besides Simon and Garfunkel, what kind of music do you like?”
“Hmm, let me think…” She pushes the tip of her tongue between her lips thoughtfully. I can’t stop staring. Paisley turns her glance away from the road and looks at me. “I really like old-school stuff, you know, like The Jackson 5. And Wham! Oh, and Katrina and the Waves did some good stuff.”
“‘Walking on Sunshine.’”
“Wohooo,” she adds. And laughs. “You?”
I point to the glove compartment. “Open it up.”
Once the CD is in her hands, she lets out a surprised laugh.
“Best of Disney? Are you messing with me?”
I laugh. “What do you mean? Disney is cool.”
“Sure,” she counters, opens the case, and puts in the CD.Aladdin’s “A Whole New World” starts. “But I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Disney guy.”
“No? What kind of guy would you have pegged me for?”
“No idea.” She grins. “Gangsta rap?”
Now I’m the one who has to laugh. “Gangsta rap?Oh, Okay. Got it. You caught me with my baggy jeans, bandana, and fake gold chains.”
“Don’t forget your huge dollar-sign rings!”
“Who’s the stalker now?”
Paisley has to lean her head against the headrest, she’s laughing so hard. The sweet tone fills the entire car. My body reacts with a warm feeling in my belly.
Once she’s calmed down, she lifts the case into the air with an amused expression. “No, but really. Who still listens to CDs? Don’t you have Spotify?” She nods in the direction of the radio. “Aux?”
“I do. But I like CDs.” We leave the mountain range and I turn right, toward downtown. “You can count on them. I mean, in fifty years, you won’t be able to find a song you had on some playlist or other. But with a CD you can say, ‘Hold on a sec, that song was on theBest of…’”
Paisley looks at me for a moment before giving a faint smile, which is impossible to interpret. “I wouldn’t have imagined you to be like that at all.”
I cast her a brief glance. “Already the second time you’ve said so. Maybe you shouldn’t judge people before you know them.”
She looks like she’s been hit on the head. Her lips part as if she wants to say something, but then close again. Before she can try again, I change the subject.
“Where exactly should I let you out?”
Paisley’s glance moves from me back out onto the road. As if she hadn’t been aware of our having left the mountain range at all.
“Up there,” she says eventually. “At Ruth’s.”
I stop in front of the bed and breakfast where, not too long ago, I used to stop by almost every day. Back when Aria and Wyatt were still together. Before my best friend cheated on her at a heavy après-ski party. The idiot.
The click of the seatbelt tears me out of my thoughts. “Great, thanks,” Paisley mumbles, puts the CD case back in the glove compartment, and tucks the blond strands of her hair behind her somewhat protruding ears. “Then see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
She gets out and hurries around the car. I can’t stop thinking of Baymax seeing her trudge across the street in her big white down jacket.
Fuck. Why can’t I stop grinning? I pinch the bridge of my nose,shake my head, and turn around more quickly than I should, considering the weather. Snow whirls up, and tracks decorate the street in the rearview mirror.
Paisley is a figure skater. I’ve been staying away from those girls for years. They call to mind bleak thoughts that follow me into my dreams and won’t let me sleep. They make me hear screams that I’d rather forget. They turn me back into a broken little boy who wants nothing but to hide in a corner for hours and to dissolve.
I take a deep breath. Whatever part of me decided to feel drawn to Paisley…enough. The demons in me shouldn’t be given any room. And I’m giving them room every second I grant Paisley.
