Earning Her Own Name

Chapter 9

“Where’s your guitar?” Liam asked me when I slid into the passenger seat. School had just ended and Liam was waiting outside for me like he promised.

“Umm, at my house.” I laughed at the question. He gave me a glare. “What?!” I asked defensively.

“You told me you were going to play me one of the songs that you wrote yourself.” He pouted.

“No… you told me I didn’t have a choice. I still don’t want to.” I said sticking my tongue out at him.

“You’re right, you don’t have a choice. We’ll just stop by your house and you can pick up your guitar.” He smirked at me.

“What if I refuse to go in and get it?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at him as we turned onto my block.

“I know where it is.” He said and turned into the drive way.

“The door is locked, and I only have the key.” I flashed him a confident smile.

“Are you going in to get it, or am I?” he asked completely ignoring my last statement.

“No, I’m not going in to get it, and you can’t get in because you don’t have the key.”

He just turned and looked at my bag. I grabbed it and held it closer to my chest. He knew that’s where I must have kept the key.

“Liam. No.” I spoke to him as if he was a dog. Before I could say anything, he lunged at the bag, but I pulled it away.

“Give it here!” he whined.

“NO!” I yelled, slapping his hand away from me. He just gave me an evil smirk.

“Danni, you have five seconds to either get out of the car, or give me the key.” He said sternly.

“Or what?” I asked, clutching my bag tighter.

He ignored my question and just started counting down. “Five, four, three, two…” I didn’t look at him; I just continued to stare out the windshield.

“One!!” he yelled and started to tickle me. Of course. Every guy knows it’s a girl’s weakness.

“L-Liam!” I yelled. He didn’t answer, instead just continued to tickle me.

“F-Fine!”  choked out with tears running down my face. I pulled my keys out of my bag and he stopped, snatching them from my hand.

I huffed and glared at him. He shot me a huge, stupid, smile, causing me to laugh against my will.

“I hate you.” I grumbled and got out of the car. He followed me up the porch.

“No, you love me and you know it.” He smirked at me. I shook my head.

“No. I hate being tickled.” I groaned.

“Why? You laugh so obviously you enjoy it.” He said sarcastically.

“Exactly. Tickling is like rape, except you are forced to laugh.” I grumbled and grabbed the house keys out of his hand, unlocking my front door.

“Never looked at it like that before.” He mumbled thoughtfully. “It is true though.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” I chuckled and went up into my room. I grabbed my guitar and put it into the case quickly. “Turn around.” I commanded him. He frowned.

“Why? Do you have to change or something?” he asked confused.

“No, I’m grabbing my song book, and I don’t want anyone to know where I keep it hidden.” I told him simply.