"I don't want to do this anymore."
Dale glances at his watch.
"I should probably get home anyway." He puts his foot on the gas and we head back towards Big Bear Village.
"What a waste of time." I sigh.
"I don't think so."
I look over at him from the front passenger's seat.
"I always knew you were an idiot."
His snicker is followed by a quick smirk.
"We can cross that stretch of road off now. It wasn't a waste of time."
"Okay, fine." I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes.
Sometimes I feel like Dale can see me or something. It's like he can sense what I'm doing and rather than launching into more tiring conversation, he simply leans forward and turns on the radio.
The music washes over us as we amble back to town. I feel the beat thump inside me as the lyrics swirl in my brain. I can't help singing along.
"You actually like this song?"
I open my eyes and spot Dale's grin. "Everybody likes this song."
"No, no they really don't."
My eyebrows dip together. "Then why are you listening to it?"
"Because I like the sound of your voice."
Embarrassed, I sit up a little straighter. A smile tugs on my lips and I fight to iron it out.
"So you like to sing, at home, when no one's watching?" Dale changes gear and glances over at me.
"Maybe." I shrug.
"Hairbrush or deodorant?"
I grin.
"My hairbrush makes a much better microphone."
"Nice." Dale nods. "I was always more of a spatula kinda guy."
"You were not." I try to playfully whack his shoulder, but my hand goes straight through.
He scratches the spot I hit him and laughs. "I swear, I used to find every bowl and pot in the kitchen and turn it into this mega drum kit. I'd smack the hell out of those things. It drove my mother insane."
I laugh. "Good musicians start young, I guess."
"Yeah, well I'm hardly a talent, but I have fun."
"So, a drummer boy then. You know, that's actually pretty cool."
"Oh, well I'm glad you approve."
Another song starts and I feel my insides jolt with pleasure. I love this one.
"Can you turn it up, please?"
Dale obliges without comment and for some reason, I launch into song. I don't know why. I'd never do it with any of my friends, but I somehow feel as though I'm allowed to in this dungy old car. Like it's safe or something.
I finish the song with a loud flourish.
Dale shakes his head with a grin. "You're a Gleek aren't you?"
"No." I turn in my seat then sigh. "Maybe... okay yes, but if you tell anyone, I'll kill you."
"Why don't you want me to tell anyone. Glee's cool."
"Shut up. Glee is cool."
"It is."
Huh! Sarcastic much!
My eyes narrow as I gaze at him.
"I know you can't see it right now, but I'm giving you a very dry look."
"No, I can see it."
"You can?" My voice comes out all high and squeaky.
"In my head," Dale admits softly. "I can picture you really clearly in my head and I know that look. You do it a lot."
I don't know how to respond to this. He makes it sound as though he's been studying me since he arrived at our school about a year ago. I gaze at him in confused silence then glance down at my nails, suddenly awkward.
Leaning back in his seat, Dale pulls out his iPod and searches for music while trying to keep an eye on the road. A few minutes later, he's plugging it into the stereo with a grin.
"You know what's cooler than Glee though, right?"
Cranking up the volume, Dale lets Granite thump through the car.
A delighted laugh escapes my lips as Dale starts belting out the tune with gusto.
Within seconds I'm joining him.
We sing as loudly as we can, all the way to Dale's house.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I have no reason to be nervous about going into Dale's house, but I am. I step through the door and gaze around the interior. It's actually quite nice. Very plain and simple, but classy all the same. The walls are wooden, giving it that log cabin feel, I bet there's a fireplace in the living room. I glance at the solid wooden bannister on the left side of the stairs and wonder if Dale's ever popped his legs either side of it and slid down to the bottom. It'd be tempting, that's for sure.
Dale's mother appears around the corner.
"Hey sweetie." She reaches up on tiptoes and gives Dale a kiss on the cheek.
Far out I think she's actually shorter than me! I didn't think that was possible.
Stepping back, she looks up with an adoring smile. "How was school?"
"Yeah, good."
His mother walks towards the kitchen.
"An eventful day?"
Dale looks over his shoulder with a wry smile. "You could say that."
"But a good one?" She turns at the kitchen counter. Her eyes are dancing with sweet merriment. It's really hard not to look at them.
Dale smiles and nods his head.
"Yeah, mom, it was great."
"Fantastic."
Far out, she looks as though she's about to cry. She obviously really wants Dale to do well at school, or be happy... or something. My heart gives a little squeeze as I watch her genuine interest as Dale runs through the bland parts of his day and makes up some excuse about why he's late.
"Dinner's in half an hour. I'll call you when it's ready."
"Awesome, I'm starving." Dale kisses her cheek and scoots up the stairs just off the kitchen.
I can't help gazing around the house as I follow him up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. The whole feel of the house is different to mine. It's much older - looks like it was built in the 70s or 80s. The carpet's been redone though, but with a nice rich burgandy color that gives the house a yummy warmth.
Yummy warmth? Really?
I shake my head. That's what it feels like. I don't know how else to describe it.
I run my hand along the wall, trying really hard to stop my fingers going through. I feel nothing and scowl as my digits pass through a painting.
"So this is my room." Dale opens his door.
I walk in and am once again hit by the warmth.
I wonder if my mom sold them this house. It's so not her style, but knowing her she would have chucked that warmth word in numerous times.
There's a double bed in the corner of the room with a bright green duvet. It's quite over powering, but I resist the urge to comment. It's his room, not mine. Dale dumps his bag next to his desk and scans the shelf above it.
"What are you looking for?"
"When we first moved here, Dad bought me a map book of the area. We highlighted a bunch of hiking trails we wanted to do."
"And let me guess, you haven't done any of them."
Dale looks at me with surprise. "No, we've done about eight so far."
"Oh." I run my fingers through my hair and turn away, feeling stupid.
"Here it is." He pulls it out and flicks through the pages. "Okay, so this is where we drove today." He rummages through his desk for a highlighter and crosses out the section of the road we drove on. "So maybe tomorrow I can get up early and we can do this section before school."