Be Rude but Love Me | ✔

CHAPTER 13

"Where is it we're going exactly?" I ask Yann once we are out of the driveway.

"Gilbert's shop," he answers curtly.

I roll my eyes and almost launch myself into a speech of how much I don't like this situation any more than he does – considering what happened the last time we were both sitting in this very car in the very same seats – but I don't need to hear him tell me to shut my mouth so I simply keep the words to myself.

"Any idea how we get there?" I ask instead.

"Don't you have a GPS on your phone?" He snaps.

I cast a quick glance at him as I wonder what's got him so worked up. His hair is in a ponytail at the base of his neck, the dark locks softly brushing against his nape in a fleeting touch. He's looking in the other direction, out the window.

I remain quiet for the next minutes and ignore him. It's a silent journey for a moment before the deafening quietness of the car is disrupted by the radio that Yann turns on. The songs keep playing and I hum along to some pop from some artist that I don't recognize. Once in a while, I cast a glance towards the GPS on my phone, making sure I haven't missed any right or left turns along the way.

Against my will – or should I say finally giving in – my eyes move to my right, falling onto Yann. A bulge near his jawbone catches my attention. Looking closer without being too obvious, I realize the bulge is in fact a vein. It's popping out every ten seconds as Yann clenches his jaw repeatedly. His hand is tightly gripping onto the roof of the car, his elbow resting on the door. His leg is annoyingly bouncing against the car floor and I can't help but wonder in annoyance what's irritating him.

Annoyed by his behavior, I clench my jaw and grip the steering wheel tighter. I try to ignore it but the bouncing of his leg is unbearable. "Could you stop, please?" Either he doesn't hear or he deliberately pays no attention to my words. "Could you stop?"

"Could you drive faster?" He retorts, his leg continuing its assault of the floor.

I am thrown back to our little accident a few days ago. His problem with my slow pace is exactly what had gotten us in the middle of the road, with me having a cut on my forehead. So instead of goading him on, I simply press the gas pedal and sit more comfortably in the car. The bouncing of his legs dies down gradually. Once silence is reigning again in the car, I start to relax, humming to Cannonball by Lea Michele on the radio.

Just as the first verse ends, the song ends too. Surprised as to why it is so short, I look down to the radio only to find that the station has been changed.

"Why did you change it? I was listening to that song."

"Just shut up and drive, Graham," his voice has an icy tone to it that I don't miss but I am not intimidated.

I don't reply, I don't have it in me to verbally fight him. Instead, I turn the round button back until it goes to Cannonball. I take off my fingers only for one second and the song is changed again.

"Damnit," I curse as I put the song back on. "You're being so juvenile right now. Just don't touch it." 

But of course, as expected, he totally ignores me and goes back to doing the same thing, simply stating, "I don't like it."

"I don't care if you don't like it," I snap and slap his hand away. "I like it."

"Fuck it, Graham. Why do you have to be so damn annoying?"

He slaps my hand away as I reach for the button again. My first reflex is to clutch my injured hand with my uninjured one. It takes me a second to realize that I am letting go of the steering wheel as I do that. I go to place both hands back on the wheel to swerve the car to the right but it's too late. The car falls front first into the pothole that I hadn't seen until now. The force with which the car is projected added to the speed of the engine causes us to bounce right off the pothole the moment we fall into it.