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Giving her a quick nod, I grabbed my backpack and tiptoed after her. It was then that I noticed she only came up to my mid-chest. She was a tiny thing. She quietly turned the doorknob, looking back at the teacher the whole time, then cracked open the door and slipped out.
There’s no way I could slip through the tiny crack she made. I licked my lips and reached to push the door open wider, and it released a loud creek.
Her bright blue eyes widened in panic.
I stood stock still and spied the teacher’s desk over my shoulder. I lucked out. The old teacher was still peacefully snoozing away, only my buddy, Reggie, caught my eye. He shot me a questioning look. I put a finger to my lips in a shush motion, then turned back to Fiona. She made a twirling motion with her finger, as if saying,wrap it up, let’s go.
Barely breathing, I slipped through the door and followed after her.
As soon as we were in the empty hallway, a laugh bubbled out of her, and I let out a relieved chuckle. Honestly, I felt kind of proud I could help her feel better.
“Let’s go rookie.” She grabbed the sleeve of my hoodie and tugged me to the exit, and I’m not sure why, but I wordlessly followed.
We jogged across the freezing, cracked parking lot, and she led me to her beat up, old, white Camry.
As soon as she unlocked my side, I dumped myself on her lumpy passenger seat and rubbed my hands together for warmth.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” she asked. Her teeth chattered as she cranked up her car’s heat.
Itwasfun… But then it kinda dawned on me… What if we were caught? I pulled at the front of my hair. Casey would freak. He’d probably yell so hard that the vein in his forehead would pop out.
“Tyler, buddy, you look way too serious,” she said, giving me a playful shove. I felt oddly comforted that she remembered my name, but that didn’t ease much of my tension. She rolled her eyes. “Ya gotta chill out, you’re making me feel tense.”
I swallowed hard. “What if we get caught?”
“Nah, we won’t,” she said confidently. “We’ll only get caught if we try to leave the parking lot. Joy, the old hall monitor, is sitting at the top of the lot waiting to catch people. Don’t ask me how I know,” she said with a snort. She looked at her vintage watch. “We’ve got about a half hour ‘til we can leave.” She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her center council and held them my way. “Want?”
I shook my head. “I’m good.” Smoking did a number on your lungs, and I needed to be in top physical shape for hockey. Plus, Casey would have my head if he ever found out.
She leaned forward and turned up the volume of the music playing in her car before lighting her cigarette.
“Those are bad for you, ya know,” I told her.
She just shrugged. “You’re probably bad for me too.”
My forehead creased. “Why would-”
“I love this song,” she breathed out, cutting me off. She closed her eyes as she listened.
Admittedly, it did have a nice rhythm. I blew out a sigh and tried to relax back against her passenger seat. “What’s it called?”
Her eyes flashed open, and she craned her neck to look at me. “You don’t know this song?”
“Uh… no? Should I?”
She studied me for a beat. “What does it sound like to you?”
I listened to it for a second and chewed on my bottom lip. “It’s kind of… dreamy, I guess. I see purple clouds in my mind.”
Her face broke into a bright smile, instantly making me feel better, like I answered correctly for once. “Right! It’s called ‘Dreams’ by Fleetwood Mac. They’re the best. They completely changed the way I listen to music. Before, I only ever listened for the vibe, whichisimportant, but that’s the base level. That’s like listening in 2D, but with them, I started listening to her words too. And the way she feels them. It’s so… it’sso…important. You can really feel her emotions, ya know? She tells a whole story, and it makes me feel like she’s talking right to me, giving me advice, and I suddenly don’t feel so alone.” She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Sorry for rambling.”
“No, no, don’t apologize.” She was clearly passionate about this, and I liked hearing her thoughts.
“Hmm.” She squinted. “Maybe you’re right, it’s kindayourfault. You’re really easy to talk to.” Her lip quirked up, telling me she was joking, and then I was smiling too.
“Thanks, no one’s ever said that to me before.” I was rarely on the receiving end of compliments because I rarely did anything right— except for when I was on the ice. That’s why I needed hockey. It saved me from being a lost cause. It gave me something to work for.
She nodded, then reached to turn up the next song. “Okay, so this is themosthype song to ever exist.”
