First Comes Like #Wattys2020

14

He belts out a high note and it's awful, I have to look at his face through the rear view mirror to clarify that he's not dying.

Surprisingly, he's not. 

I laugh and cover my ears as he finishes his screeching. "Please don't ever do that again." I say, "We're clearly not arguing enough."

Dean chuckles.

The rest of the drive home is silent, except for the barely-there hum of the AC as cold air blows from the vents. We finally stop in front of his house and seeing his too-short grass, and mine, just nearby jogs my memory to Saturday and the photo strip falling from his pocket.

Dean pulls into his driveway and tuns off the engine, but I don't get out. I sit still instead, wondering whether or not I should bring it up, thank him, or something. Before I have the chance to get out and forget it, Dean turns in his seat and faces me.

I expect him to say something like "I know you love spending time with me Poof, but it's time we part. Like, get out.",  but he bites his lip tentatively and meets my eyes.

"You still like that guy...Cole, is it?" He looks away, suddenly shifty, " 'Cause there's something you need to know. And you're probably not going to believe me, and you don't have to, I mean, do what you want, but on Saturday--"

"I know." I interrupt, stopping him before he got to the gory details of him finding/stealing a photo of Cole kissing another girl who wasn't me. Because even though it's on my mind, I don't need to hear it out loud, from someone else.

"You know?"

"I saw the photo strip." I say, "It fell from your pocket."

"Oh." Dean faces the windscreen again,"I'm sorry that happened to you."

I'm a little taken aback by how sincere he sounds. How he really sounds sorry when, in fact, he did nothing wrong. It adds new pain to the Cole wound because now the betrayal hits me with full force.

"He's...immature, O.K?" Dean continues, "A mature guys knows that he should choose one girl and keep her happy. I mean you can't spend your whole life test driving cars or inspecting the rims. You're going have to choose one eventually, get in and drive that baby."

That makes me laugh so hard, I almost feel like the hurt has jumped out of my chest and onto the the butchered lawn outside.

"Wow, Pinkette." I say, "That's a pretty good analogy." Then, "And thanks."

I don't specify what I'm thanking him for but he was obviously looking out for me when he decided he was going to tell me about Cole and his two-timing adventures. I sigh and reach for the door handle to open it and get out but then the engine of Dean's car roars to life again and before I know it, he's backing down the driveway, back onto the street and then away from our houses.

"What are you doing?" I say, looking back and watching as we get further and further away from our neighborhood. When he doesn't answer, I lean forward and put my hand on his arm. My fingers can barely even fit around the whole thing, it's all muscle. I drop him instantly but poke his arm instead. 

"Pinkette." I wave my hands in front of his face, desperate for his attention, "Where are you taking me? Our home is that way."

With one hand, Dean pushes my hand away from my face. "Don't distract a driver. Ever." Then, "I'm taking you somewhere. So sit back, put on your seatbelt and keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle for the rest of the trip." 

He turns on the radio and starts singing along to a song I've never heard before, like everything was perfectly fine and he wasn't technically kidnapping me.