I'm Innocent - Jake T. Austin

9: Asking Assholes

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9: Asking Assholes

I open my eyes to see that I'm still in his car. It's been a few hours, yet it is still dead silent in his car. The piercing quiet accompanies are travel to the hiking spot we're suppose to meet Talon and the two others. I'm not stating that there is music in the background. This silence is different. The only things heard is the wind hitting the car as we rush pass against the road. I feel my heart beating softly against my chest, but my breathing is normal.

"We're almost there," one of his arms rests on the steering wheel while the other holds onto the gearshift. I state an 'okay,' grabbing out my phone to busy myself as the silence continues on. I plug in my earphones and put the buds in my ears, the music rushing into my eardrums right away. I check my text messages, seeing that my sister has texted back to the one I typed earlier about going hiking with Talon and his friends.

*Okay. Stay safe.*

I roll my eyes at the text, feeling worry inside of me here in this car alone. I mean - I can never read what's on this guy's mind. It's crazy how mysterious he is - sometimes he's nice, and sometimes, I want to beat the shit out of him. Suddenly, I feel my left earplug being yanked out of my ear. In instinct, I stare at this celebrity in the car, my mind feeling fury, "What the hell was that for?"

"Your music is too loud. I can hear it from here," his eyes are on the road, the voice he speaks in is neutral and quiet. I stare at him in confusion; why does he care if my music is too loud? It's not hurting anyone. I assume he notices my eyes staring at him, and he glances in my direction, "You should know music can deafen you if it is too loud."

No, it does not.

I remove my earbuds completely right after, knowing that even though he is partially incorrect due to my knowledge in AP biology, he will not waver in his dispute about the deafening effects of earbuds, "Whatever."

"We're almost here," his hand resting on the gearshift points to the parking lot, and I straighten out in my seat, "So you can hurt your ears all you want when you're not in my car." I grab my bag near my leg, taking out my contacts case, "Gladly." I open up the case immediately, groaning at the struggle to put these stupid lenses on. I've worn more contacts in this week than I have my whole entire existence, and it's all due to the guy next to me. I take out one of the contacts for my eyes, waiting for him to park his car in one of the empty slots. As he finally stops, I tilt my head back, gently placing my contact in its place. Right after, I put my other contact in my eye, blinking multiple times afterwards.

"Why didn't you put your contacts earlier?" He asks as he lifts up his shirt. My eyes widen in disbelief, looking away towards the passenger window. "Because I didn't need to," I try to process what he is doing, but I'm still in shock from what I had just seen. "Why didn't you put your clothes on earlier?" I hold back my trembling fear, and suddenly, I feel his hand graze against my thigh, and all the hairs in my body jolt up. I instantly smack his arm, my cheeks hot in fear, "What are you doing?"

His face continues to be neutral like he hadn't done anything. "I was trying to get my sweats you've been sitting on for four hours until you slapped my arm." I feel my body relax for a moment, but at the same time, I feel embarrassment through my assumption of his hand touching me. "Now, can you lift your ass off the seat, so I can grab my clothes, or do you want me to lift it for you," his voice teases. I quickly unlock the door to his black truck, jumping out and slamming it in the process.

I walk towards the empty park bench, sitting on it before putting in my earphones again. After minutes of music and glancing around the setting of this area, I see Jake climb out of his car with his backpack. I try to be discrete with my eyes, but I've noticed one thing as soon as he got out: he is shirtless. A small towel rests on his neck as a bag is firmly strapped onto his back; his black track pants are hanging loosely against his pelvic area - his defined muscles popping out like a sore thumb.