You Make Me ▶▶A Hunter Hayes Fanfiction◀◀

Chapter 3

Willow’s face reddens. “YOU. ARE. SUPPOSED. TO. LOOK. LIKE. YOU. ENJOY. WORKING. HERE.”

I cock my head in confusion. “I’ve been smiling.”

“DO A BETTER JOB.”

She slams the window shut. I roll my eyes at her and resume waxing the car, this time with an over-enthusiastic smile on my face.

“Hey,” Ruth says, walking over as the car she was just cleaning drives off, “don’t let her get to you. She’s just a-”

“Oh, trust me, I know what she is,” I laugh, causing Ruth to laugh with me. Another car pulls in and Ruth tends to the customer. After a few minutes, I finish the wax, and have my customer pay. She does before driving away.

Just as she’s out of sight, a familiar black car with a red stripe pulls in next to me. He rolls his window down.

The cute guy, Hunter, is wearing dark sunglasses with a tight black shirt. It makes him even more attractive.

I push my thoughts away and smile down at him. “Hello again.” I glance at the still shiny and clean car. “Were you not satisfied with my cleaning skills yesterday?” I tease.

Hunter lets out a chuckle. “No, your cleaning skills are good.” He reaches over and takes a phone off the center console, holding it up to me. “I believe this is yours?”

I pat my back pocket, which is empty. I take the phone and recognize it as mine. “Thank you. Where’d you get this?”

He shrugs, his hands still on the steering wheel. “When you left the bar last night I saw that you left your phone on the counter, but when I went outside to give it to you, I couldn’t find you.”

I flash him an appreciative grin. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

A thought pops into my head. “So, how was your date with Willow?” I try to hide my distaste, but I can hear some slip out with her name.

Hunter laughs. “I wouldn’t call it a date.” He pauses, glancing at Willow who is staring out her office window at us. More specifically, at Hunter. “Don’t tell anyone this, but I think you were right.”

“I’m right about a lot of things, you need to be more specific.”

He runs his hand through his blond hair. “Willow’s a bit… clingy. And she sounded obsessed when she brought up my career.”

I furrow my brow. “Your career?”

He looks at me, a little surprised and taken back. “Oh. You didn’t know? That’s a bit of relief, I guess.” When he sees that I’m more than confused, he explains, “I’m Hunter Hayes, a country singer.”

My eyes widen. Hunter Hayes? As in the one that Ginny was obsessed with, even when she was engaged?

“Woah.”

“What?” Hunter asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s just… you’re famous.”

He chuckles. “I guess?”

“Hunt!” Willow’s voice chirps. I swear I hear Hunter groan in annoyance, but obviously Willow doesn’t hear it. I don’t think I was supposed to, either.

Hunter gives Willow a strained smile. “Hi, how’re you doing?”

Willow puts her hand on her head. “I’ve still got a massive headache.” She pauses, giving me a look of disgust before she looks back at Hunter. “Hey, Hunt, do you think you could tell me what happened last night? I don’t remember anything.” She twirls a strand of her hair around her finger.

Hunter clears his throat. “Well, Willow, we each had a few drinks, we talked, and then I called a friend to pick us up and drive us home because you were too intoxicated to drive and I was being on the safe side.” He glances at me, an unreadable look on his face.

Willow laughs. “Are you sure we didn’t do anything else? I mean, I think I remember us dancing-”

Hunter cringes, but then hides it. “I don’t dance, and I didn’t. You danced, though.” Before Willow could say anymore, Hunter says, “I should probably go now, I don’t want to hold up the customers.”

At this, Willow and I both notice a line of two other cars have formed. Willow’s head snaps towards me.

“What are you still doing here? Do you want to get fired?”

I sigh, wiping sweat off my forehead. “Alright. It was nice talking to you, Hunter.”

“It was ni-” Hunter starts, but is cut off by Willow.

“Say, Hunt, how about we go out for a movie sometime? Or some dinner?”

A laugh escapes my lips as I walk to a different station, a car waiting to be washed. Good luck, Hunter.

The customer asks for a premium wash, but I would’ve gone with our Xtra Power Wash. Their truck is filthy. I get out the hose, rinse it down, cover it with soap, scrub hard, and rinse the suds away. What is usually a five minute job turned out to be a ten minute one. The guy didn’t even thank me and just paid and zoomed off.

So much for being polite.

The rest of the day is a blur, mostly because it was even hotter than yesterday and I think the sun started messing with my head. I almost passed out a few times, and when I sat down in the shade next to a sleeping Greg, Willow yelled at me to get back to work. Thankfully the work day is now over and I get my paycheck today. After retrieving it from Willow, I race to get home, shower, and hurry to the couch just in time to watch my favorite TV show in the world.

The Voice.

Ginny and I used to watch it every day, even if they were re-runs. In our family, Ginny was the only talented one. Our parents were never involved to the extent to where I don’t even know where they are right now. In Germany? A few cities over? Who knows.

Anyways, The Voice was always something Ginny and I watched together. Ginny got me hooked on it after I heard her singing in her room one afternoon. Her voice was so pure and so beautiful that I had to clap. She showed me The Voice, and thus I got hooked. Ginny would point out some things that the contestants did wrong, such as their breathing coming from their chests instead of their stomachs, and if they were using too much head voice or throat voice. Ginny was the expert at singing, and she never even had a day of coaching in her life. When she turned seventeen, I finally convinced her to get out there and get noticed in the music industry. And guess what? A record label wanted her! She got signed and was preparing to go on tour with some musician I’ve never heard of when the incident happened.

As I lounge on the couch, listening to the amazing voices of all different kinds of people, I feel Ginny’s presence. I look down at the empty spot on the couch and think, Ginny’s home.