Guilty (A Ghost Bird FanFiction)

2. Who's the Boss?

Sang

Luke woke up while we were sitting in traffic, and I smiled over at him as he rubbed at his eyes. "You're probably gonna wish you were still asleep," I warned.

"I can't even believe I fell asleep on you," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Oh my god, you must hate me."

I laughed. "You're fine, you weren't even asleep for that long."

He glanced at the clock and shook his head. "Three hours isn't long?"

I shrugged. "If it makes you feel better we're still in Pennsylvania," I offered.

"Matter of fact, it does," he said with a grin. I shook my head, smiling to myself as he reached for the radio. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

I absently watched him fiddle with my preset stations, nodding appreciatively. "Impressive roster," he said, flashing me that carefree grin again as he clicked on the fourth station, his eyes going wide at the Michael Jackson song that had just started playing.

He started bobbing his head in time with the beat, affecting a stank face I couldn't help but grin at. "Oh this is good, this is good," he mused.

"What?" I asked, distracted by him again.

"Traffic jam, a Michael Jackson classic." He twisted in the passenger seat as much as he could to study me. "A beautiful girl," he added with a quick wink. "It's the perfect combination," he continued, as if his easy flirtation hadn't just rocked me.

My cheeks burned and I broke eye contact. "For what?" I prompted, wondering why my body was betraying me like this.

"Sang," he announced dramatically, "it's time for carpool karaoke."

"What?"

"Carpool karaoke," he asserted. "Now, do you know Billie Jean?"

I scoffed. "I know she's not my lover," I said seriously before glancing over at him, unable to hold my laughter in.

"Well, she's not mine either," he said with a smirk. "She's just a girl, who claims that IIII am the one," he sang in time with the recording. He kept going, and I didn't hesitate much longer before joining in, unable to resist his energy. He was amazing, covering the harmonies when needed, affecting some of MJ's famous dance moves as well as he could in my small white sedan. Our excitement woke Hobbes up, who offered up a bark of annoyance before settling down again, watching us curiously.

But I could scarcely take my eyes off of Luke. It wasn't how he looked, it was how much fun he was clearly having as the radio switched over to a Spice Girls song and he didn't miss a beat.

"You like the Spice Girls?" I couldn't help asking.

He shot me a look of mock horror. "Who doesn't?" He countered, and I raised my hands in surrender, giggling slightly before joining in as we continued to crawl along I-81.

We survived the next hour or so of slow-moving traffic like that, laughing and singing, surprising each other with the songs we knew the lyrics to. He ended up half-teaching me some choreography that he and his friends had made up to that funky Bruno Mars song, and my cheeks hurt after a while, but only because I wasn't used to smiling so much. I made a mental note to thank Summer later for her crash course in pop culture movies and music our freshman year. I'd been told I was still behind, which was obvious when Luke started raving about someone he kept calling "The Boss", but I did manage to shock him by rapping both verses of an old Will Smith song.

When we passed the sign saying we'd entered Maryland Luke let out a loud whoop of excitement before glancing back at Hobbes. "How're you holding up, buddy?"

Hobbes let out a small bark, and I grinned, glancing at Luke. "It's ok if you want to pet him," I offered. "He's about as tough as he looks." Hobbes shot me a look that I could only interpret as offense before Luke reached back and started petting him behind the ears, Hobbes's sweet spot. His tail started its crazy dance before his eyes closed in pure doggy bliss.

"You like that Hobbesy?" Luke asked animatedly, still scratching behind his ears. I watched them a bit more through the rearview mirror as they got acquainted, and an unexpected desire settled over me. Luke. Summer was more right than she'd known, I thought, trying to distract myself from how cute he was being with Hobbes, who had clearly fallen for him instantly. The traitor. I needed him on my side if I was going to fight this obnoxious, building attraction I had to the guy's winsome smile and playful gaze.

I sighed. A fight I was losing. But he was a guy who probably had a girlfriend or at least a girl he was seeing. No one who looked like that and was as fun and funny as he was would be single.

Summer liked to chastise me, saying that I never went after the guys I wanted, but what she didn't know was that I'd never wanted any of the guys I'd met. Since settling in at Easton I hadn't met a guy I couldn't easily read between the lines of, with the exception of maybe Marc. Maybe that was Luke too, maybe it wasn't. But even if a tiny, buried part of me did want him, Summer would be right in this case since I wouldn't — couldn't — go after him.

Our paths had never crossed before today, and knowing my luck, they'd never cross again.