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"I'm more successful than Malcolm Strong. Fuck, I really want to put this on Facebook." Her eyes meet mine. "But I won't. Well, I have to text Carrie."
"Carrie?"
"My best friend." She bites her lip. "Don't worry. She's discreet. And she doesn't care about you. At all. She likes country."
"Nothing wrong with that."
She sticks her tongue out. "You haven't listened to much country."
"I listen to everything."
"I guess it suits you how all the songs about your dog dying or your pickup truck busting or your girl running off on you."
"Does it?"
"Yeah. It's all tragedy. That's Dangerous Noise—tragedy, tragedy, tragedy."
"You're gonna hurt my feelings typecasting me like that."
"It's more complicated, yeah, but there's a clear lack of positivity in the lyrics."
I can't argue with that either.
"It's interesting. Most pop songs fall into a few categories, but a lot of yours defy classification."
I stop at a red light. "Something tells me you have a lot more detail to that theory."
"You know, when normal people have conversations, they say stuff like go on, Lacey. That sounds interesting. Please tell me more."
"You know about normal people's conversations?"
Her lips crinkle into a smile. "You're teasing me." She looks up at me.
She's right. I'm teasing her. I fucking like her. In that high school I like you way. I enjoy the company of my fuck buddies, I enjoy my female friends, but I don't fucking like anyone.
I haven't had a semblance of a crush in a long fucking time.
The light turns green. I press on the gas pedal. It's only a few more minutes until we're back at her place.
If I invite myself in, she'll say yes.
But that's not the smart move.
I take in her expression for a moment. She's interested. Nervous. Excited.
She wants me.
She likes me.
I'm not sure she's really going to understand no strings attached. "Your theory?"
"Oh, well, pop songs fall into five categories. One is let's party." She sticks out her tongue. "Those are the worst, but I get why they need to exist. The next is I'm the best. You see that a lot with rap. Then you have classic love songs. I love you and you love me and we're awesome together. None of those in the Dangerous Noise catalog."
"But we love to party and we're the best?"
"No. Yours nudge into the next category. I love you but you don't love me. But that's not what they're really about…" She looks back at me. "Correct me if I'm wrong."
"What's the last category?"
