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Chase turns it down and looks at me in the rearview mirror. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shrug again, feeling stupid.
He shakes his head, and a glimmer of the usual teasing comes into his eyes. “You’re serious. I thought you were supposed to have superior musical taste.”
“Hey, if it didn’t come out of the nineties, I never claimed to know it,” I say, trying not to sound as stupid as everyone is making me feel.
“This is only, like, the greatest lyrical genius of all time,” he says, turning it up even louder than before and singing along, something about a Mr. Jones. If it was the Counting Crows version, I could belt out every lyric, but this one is folksy and not nearly as fun.
I look up, and our eyes meet in the mirror, and he holds my gaze so long I’m afraid he’s going to run into another car. Finally I drag my gaze from his and busy myself pulling at a loose thread in the ragged knee of my jeans. When I look up a minute later, he’s still watching me in the mirror, the corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter.
I quickly look down and deliberately avoid eye contact with the mirror again, though I can feel the weight of his knee-buckling gaze on me all the way home.
At Lindsey’s, Elaine’s Rover is parked in front of the garage. Chase gets out, opens Daria’s door behind his, and walks around the car to open the door for Lindsey. I’ve already opened my door, but he pulls it open the rest of the way and holds out his hand to me.
I’m afraid to touch him when he’s in one of his reckless moods, where he might say something stupid. So, I ignore his hand and climb out on my own, which puts me practically in his arms as he stands outside my door. He leans into the wind, puts his mouth against my ear, and says “Bob Dylan.”
A warm thrill runs through my body before the icy wind rips the heat of his breath away from me. I fight a gasp, but the crooked smirk on his face says he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Even in the freezing weather, when the rest of us are shivering and chattering and huddling against the wind, he stands relaxed and confident as a god, like he owns even the wind and snow. Flakes dot his dark blond hair, but he seems oblivious to the cold, a godlike creature exempt from the elements.
Back in Lindsey’s room, we find Elaine sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone, her feet curled under her. She glances up just like nothing happened. “Hey, girls.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Lindsey says to Chase. “You can go finish packing.”
“Happy to be of service,” he says, putting his arm around her. “But you didn’t tell me you were having a party. And since I’m already here, might as well stay a while.”
“It’s not a party,” she argues. “We’re just having some girl time before I leave and don’t get to see my friends for two weeks.”
“I could use some girl time,” he says with a grin. “Maybe paint my nails, fix my hair…” He runs his hand through his hair and poses dramatically in front of the mirror.
“Seriously, we’d bore you to death,” she says, nudging him toward the door. “I’d be happy for you to stay, but the girls would feel weird with you around. We’re going to be talking about boys and doing girly stuff.”
“I have to stay if you’re going to talk about me,” he says. “I wanna hear how much y’all love me. Besides, you girls don’t care if I stay, do you?”
He turns to me, but I busy myself with my phone, pretending I don’t see him.
Chase jumps on the bed and knocks Elaine over, pinning her to the bed. She gives a startled shriek, but he just kneels up over her and bounces on the bed, holding her down. “You don’t care, do you? Do you?” he says with each bounce.
She manages to say no between laughter and struggling. “You want me to stay, don’t you? Say it, and I’ll let you go.”
“I want you to stay,” she says, still giggling. He drops her hands and steps off the bed lightly, all seriousness now.
“See, Elaine wants me to stay. I could ask Sky and Daria too, if you want me to.” He shoots a glance my way, and I catch the gleam of laughter in his eyes.
“Fine, you can stay,” Lindsey says, crossing her arms and glaring. “But no whining if we talk about girl stuff.”
“Deal.” Chase looks like he’s trying not to laugh at Lindsey’s obvious annoyance.
“And you have to participate. If you’re going to be one of the girls, you have to do girly stuff with us.”
“Like practicing kissing?” he asks, wiggling his brows.
“I will call my brother to make you leave,” she threatens.
He laughs and plops down on the bed, nearly bouncing Elaine off. “Are you going to paint my nails and put makeup on me?”
“Pretty much,” says Daria, looking delighted at the prospect.
