Lea

         As instructed, after throwing a 'see you later' at Marissa, I take the car keys from River, reluctantly letting go of his hand, and walk out of the service station. Approaching the car, I click the switch, making the sleek vehicle's headlights flash twice. Rounding the bonnet, I open the door the driver's door, injecting the key into the ignition and twisting it. A roar sounds from the car.

         Letting go of the keys to hang from the ignition, I shut the driver's door and start towards the passenger's side. Once I'm sat comfortably in the car, with my legs crossed on the leather seat, I turn on the radio.  But even though the music is filling my ears, River's voice in my head still rings louder.

         I need to tell you something, in private.

         This sentence repeats again, and again, and again in my head until several minutes have passed. And with every growing moment, the curiosity kills me. After fifteen minutes, and I finally see his figure walking out through the automatic sliding doors. His right hand carries a brown paper bag, while his left hides in his pocket. His strides lengthen as he walks faster when he spots his car, and me.

         He is so handsome.

         He reaches the car and opens the driver's door, handing me the bag that is full of our warm food and contrastingly cold drinks.

         "Take these a sec," he says, as I take the food from him.

         Then, I watch him pull at the sleeve of his jacket, tugging it off of his body until all that is left to cover his torso muscular shoulders is a light grey t-shirt. Flinging the jacket onto the back seats of the car, he climbs into his seat, swinging the car door shut.

         "I'm starving," he states, eager to take the food from my hand.

         "Me too," I smile, my eyes strictly focusing on his movements, from the way his large, veiny hands take the bag from my lap to the way he fidgets in his seat to make himself comfortable. 

         "I got you a tomato and pesto panini, Marissa said you'd want it." He speaks, pulling out my food and handing it to me.

         "And here's your drink," He says, giving me a cold bottle of apple juice.

         "Thanks," I smile, taking the bottle from his hand and placing it in the cup holder between us.

         Opening up the packaging to reveal the delicious food, I start to indulge in the warm panini, as does River in his, yet I can't help but wonder what he wanted to tell me. And why it has to be in private. 

        Several moments pass until I hear River sigh. First, he takes a chug from his drink, and then, he's still. His unfinished food remains on his lap as one arm rests on the side of his door while the other hand clutches onto his thigh.

         "When you thought I was a dickhead, you were actually quite right." He says, out of the blue.

         My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "What you talking about, River?" I, too, lower the food to my lap.

         He brushes a few fingers through his disordered hair, biting at his lips as he concentrates on something in the distance of the parking lot.

         "Believe it or not, Georgia was actually one of the nicest people I knew. She was one of those girls that you could tell anything to, and not have to worry about whether the rest of the year will find out in a few days. That's partly why I liked her so much back then."

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