Homeroom

9: New Car Smell

"So, where's your cute little car?" I ask Aaron as I follow him to the parking lot outside the gym lobby doors. I glance at the cloudy sky right as a drop of rain hits me on my cheek.

Of course, I didn't bring an umbrella or a rain jacket with me.

Aaron whips out a set of keys from his back jeans pocket as we walk by a blindingly-shiny Fiat. It's not even sunny, and the dang thing is shining brighter than a light bulb.

"It's not cute, it's manly," he defends, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

I scoff at his statement. "Oh, yeah, sure," I sarcastically add, changing the subject before this disagreement turns into a debate that could put politicians to shame. "So, where's your car again?"

He points into the distance, spotting his car already. "It's right over here," he says, picking up his pace.

We both weave around a few more rows of cars before making a sharp right and heading towards the soccer field. I follow closely behind him, struggling to keep up as it begins to rain.

Nothing could get my mind off of what just happened. I just can't believe that Luke and his girlfriend had the nerve to physically hurt me and pretend like they didn't even notice it happening. I swear, if I see either one of them again, I'm going to punch them so hard their grandchildren will feel it.

My fists clench subconsciously at the thought as we approach the very edge of the lot. The headlights of an Audi flicker we approach, and I run past Aaron as the rain turns into a torrential downpour. The car looks click when I yank the passenger door open, jumping in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut. I ignore the throbbing pain in my thumb the best that I can.

I inhale and exhale deeply as I fasten my seat belt, partially out of tiredness and partly because I love the smell of a new car.

I wish my car smelled this good, but that's too much to ask of my dad's old Honda Civic, which still smells old and musty no matter how much Febreze I spray on the seats.

Aaron is dripping wet when he finally takes a seat behind the wheel. He shakes his hair out, spewing droplets of water on me as he sticks the key into the ignition. The car purrs to life and quietly rolls down the street after we pull out of the parking lot.

"So, where are we heading?" Aaron asks, turning onto the main avenue that leads out of town.

I fumble with the radio dial, searching for a radio station that isn't playing the news. Music normally helps me calm down when I'm moody. "How about IHOP? I'm craving some chocolate-chip pancakes."

Aaron agrees with a dimpled smile right as "Boom Clap" blasts through the speakers

"Boom clap the sound of my heart the beat goes nah-ni-nah-ni-nah-ni-nah-nah!" I sing, turning up the volume a bit.

Aaron steals a glance at me with an eyebrow raised as I belt out the rest of the song lyrics, dancing in my seat as we roll down the wet highway. Eventually, my anger melts away, and I'm left feeling content for the time-being.

"I didn't know you could sing that well," he comments, glancing sideways at me again as the song ends.

I shrug and watch the rain pour down the front windshield.We listen to a few more songs in a comfortable silence before we arrive at the restaurant. There's only six cars in the parking lot, most of which probably belonging to the employees.

We pull into a space close to the door as the rain continues to pound the top of the car. Aaron shuts off the car and shoves his keys into his front pocket. "Ready?" he asks, hooking his hand on the latch that unlocks the door.

"Yup," I nod, unlocking the door with my left hand and running to the roof hanging over the front door. 

Aaron noisily runs behind me, accidentally running through a giant puddle and shrieking like a little kid. "My foot's wet now!"

"You're such a nut," I tell him, lightly punching his shoulder as we head into the building.

He nudges me in my rubs with his elbow, making me squirm. "Look who's talking," he replies, smiling so wide that dimples dig into his cheeks.

I duck my head bashfully, letting my long hair hide my face as I blush deeply.

The more I watch Aaron, the more I realize that there's no use in pretending to hate him. He treated me with kindness even though I was rude to him for no reason. Sure, maybe Luke and Aaron are friends, but there's more to a person that just the people they hang out with. I mean, I'm still going to be careful about what I tell Aaron, but I think its reasonable to call us friends now. 

Instead of trying to straighten out this internal war of loving or hating Aaron, I decide to simply follow the hostess to our table and debate whether or not I want coffee or milk with my chocolate-chip pancakes.