Then It Hits Me

Chapter 3: I Feel Accomplished When You Glare

~Chapter Three: I Feel Accomplished When You Glare~

I stand in the fall breeze, waiting for a sign of Miller's black truck.

After ten minutes, the dirty thing finally appears in front of me and the window rolls doen, revealing a pissed off Miller. How can he not be shivering when he is wearing a sleeveless shirt that looks like it's made with tissue paper? Miller reached over and pops open the door.

"Get in, punk," he is clearly annoyed.

I hesitantly hop into the car. It's too bad that I don't have another choice besides going with Miller. When I left my car for dance class on Saturday, somebody stole it, so now mom isn't buying me one until Christmas, which is months away. I don't even know how I am supposed to get home when this month is over and Miller isn't driving me anymore.

The car ride contains no talking, but instead heavy metal rock music playing so loudly that my eardrums are going to explode. I am close to getting hypothermia with both of the truck's windows open. Miller actually looks happy. His sandy brown hair is blowing back in the wind and he is humming along to the lovely music.

"Can you please turn down the music?" I beg, while plugging my ears.

"Fuck no," He rocks his head back and forth to the beat of the song. I don't think my eardrums can take anymore of this nightmare, so I instinctively turn the music off by myself. Miller does not look happy.

His grey eyes turn darker, "Why did you do that?"

I gulp at his wild eyes he wouldn't dare hurt a girl, would he? He doesn't have a 'bad boy' rep like his best friend, Jaxon does. His rep is one hundred percent jock and jocks only hit balls, right?

His eyes soften once he sees how scared I look. They search my face for any sign of bluffing, which he doesn't find, so he takes a deep breath. The puddles of grey return to their normal shade, as Miller's head is turns towards the front window. He keeps his left hand on the steering wheel and the right one lightly brushes through his hair. As any other professional football player does, Miller has toned muscles that bend along with his skin as it moves. It's a once in a lifetime sight.

Miller follows my gaze to his muscled arm, "You like what you're seeing?"

I immediately look somewhere else. Foolishly, that somewhere is straight ahead at the road, where Miller can see my blush perfectly.

From the corner of my eye, I can see the small smirk plastered on his face.

Miller soon realizes that he doesn't have my address and that he is just driving to his own house. No wonder the street names looked so different than the ones I usually see on my way home. Unfortunately, by the time he realizes it, we are already in the mids of his street. How much stupider can you get?

I'm not only talking about Miller, I'm pretty stupid for being okay with him driving me through these unknown roads. I should have been freaking out because of his unknown skills if girlnapping.

"I guess you'll have to stay here for the next twenty minutes until your parents can come and pick you up," he hops out of the car, tugging his backpack with him.

I slowly step out, one foot at a time, trying not to step on the gorgeous, still green grass in his front yard. Miller parked so close to his lawn that I can barely fit my feet into the space. Walking out of the tiny space is an even harder challenge.

You might think that since Im a dancer, I'm some super graceful swan, but let me be the first to tell you that I'm not. I am actually the opposite. I trip over everything and anything. I even tripped over my baby cousin, Jeremy. Aunt Barb was not happy about that one. In fact, she never let me near her son again.