Page 25 of As the Rain Falls
He smiles, “Please, check the Christian station.”
“No way, I think it might be gone.” I check. “Yep. No worship song for us.”
“I still can’t believe—” he yawns through his words. “They got a spot on national radio. Get the CDs.”
I turn my upper body to find the hidden box in the backseat of the car, where I know he keeps his CD collection. Beckett flashes the car’s high beam headlights over the road, muttering a curse under his breath when the wheels make a strange noise.
“I really have to check what this noise is,” he complains, while I’m still looking for the CDs. “I’m surprised they didn’t cancel all your classes.”
“I have Mrs. Yun today.”
I wet my lips, looking for my favorite album of the moment. Beckett grimaces at hearing the teacher’s name. Nobody likes Mrs. Yun, not even the golden boy.
“She’s not going to cancel her class just because there’s a little bit of rain coming down.”
“I hear that.” He nods in understanding. “Nathaniel overslept?”
The words are spoken so casually that I don’t think twice about answering it honestly.
“More like he got a little drunk last night.”
“Ah.”
“I’m really just kidding,” I start to lie, feeling embarrassed. “He doesn’t even drink that much.”
Beckett stays silent. I don’t know what else to say after that, so I focus on turning on the CD player. I placeRumorsinto the open space and press play, searching how to turn the volume up next. He lightly slaps my hand away, holding back a smile.
“Don’t mess with my system.”
The corner of my lips twitches as I speak up, “I’m not messing with your system.”
“You’re absolutely messing with my system, Rivera.”
Our fingers dance around, pushing each other away from the CD player or fighting their way back to it playfully. Beckett has a single dimple in his right cheek that pops when he grins.
It totally makes my stomach flip because I like him.I alsoreallylike the way he looks.The dimple just makes me like all those things more.Too bad he is totally out of my league.
“I’m stronger,” he brags, holding both my wrists with one hand.
“Or maybe your fingers are just bigger.” I raise my hands up, freeing myself from his grip. “My hands are super small!”
“Like doll hands, I know!” Beckett rolls his eyes. “Put them down! They-they freak me out!”
“You’re acting kind of like my personal bully, you know that right?” I ask, surprised at how he keeps his eye on the road, entirely focused on the task of driving us to Sainte Madeleine safely. And yet, his right hand takes hold of mine. “Hey!”
“Stop fucking with my sound system. It works.”
“It does not!”
Second Hand Newsstarts playing.
I snap my fingers to the rhythm.
“I like this one,” I hum quietly. “Music deserves to be heard, Becky.”
“At a normal volume, yes. We don’t all want to ruin our sense of hearing,” he retorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. “And who even says the word ‘super’ anymore?”
I point to myself, faking offense.
