“Of course, sweetie. He’s just a little nervous. Things have been hard for him, and I think he’s feeling a little overwhelmed.”
She turns to my mom and starts telling her about the countless foster families he grew up in and that he has some problems.
“He’s been through so much,” she says with a disheartened sigh, pressing her hand to her chest. “And still has so much to face in the future.”
I stop to listen, but when my mom shoots me a death glare, I hurry into the house and up the stairs to Ayden’s bedroom.
His door is wide open and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a duffel bag on the floor. He looks so morose that I feel kind of sorry for him. What has this boy been through?
“You’re supposed to come downstairs and go on a drive,” I announce as I waltz into the room.
He jumps, startled as his attention darts up to me. He doesn’t reply. Simply just stares again.
“I know it sounds really lame.” I wander around, observing all the knickknacks Lila put up—sports and band posters, little painted blocks with quotes on them, books on the shelf. It’s like she didn’t know what he was into, so she just decorated the room with a bit of everything. “It’s pretty fun, though. They drive fast and stuff.”
He still doesn’t utter a word. Just looks at me.
I face the bed and assess him while he studies me back. His head is tilted just enough that his black hair dangles in his grey eyes, so I don’t have a clear view of how he’s looking at me. He appears uneasy, though, fidgeting with a bracelet on his wrist.
Finally, I can’t take the silence anymore. Even though I know I might get in trouble for doing it, if he chooses to tell on me, I march to the bed and stand right in front of him.
When he angles his head back to look at me, his eyes are filled with confusion. I poke him in the side of the ribs, hard enough that he flinches and his body jolts.
“What the hell?” He gapes at me as he cradles his side.
“Ha!” I cry, pointing a finger at him. “You do know how to speak.”
His lips part in astonishment. “Of course I know how to speak.”
“No, of course you know how to stare. Speaking was getting a little questionable. Either you couldn’t speak or you were just shy, but I needed to find out.”
He has no clue how to respond to my colorful personality—most people don’t in the beginning.
Feeling a little on the adventurous side, I snatch ahold of Ayden’s hand and drag him to his feet. “Come on, shy boy.” I pull him with me as I march out of the room and downstairs. “The longer we stay up here, the longer this night is going to drag on.”
He follows me a lot easier than I expected him to, holding onto my hand, maybe too tightly, as if he’s terrified out of his wits.
“I thought you said driving with them was fun?” he questions. “So why would you want the night to end so soon?”
“The driving part is fun,” I assure him as I throw open the front door. The cool breeze kisses my skin and it smells like leaves and grass. “But the movie thing at the end is painful to endure. We always have to watch a kid appropriate movie. Either a cartoon or something rated PG.” I glance back at him. “Although, maybe because you’re older, they’ll let us watch something cooler.”
“Maybe I like cartoons and PG movies,” he counters, holding my gaze as he slides his hand from mine and folds his arms across his chest.
“Do you?”
“Not really. I just wanted to make a point. You shouldn’t make assumptions. Maybe I’m a kid at heart who likes kid movies.”
“You know what, Ayden? I think you and I might be good friends, if you’re lucky.” I snatch his hand again and tug him around the fence and up the driveway toward the open garage of my house. “Although, you still have to pass the music quiz.”
“Music quiz?” he asks, distracted by my mother’s black and red 1969 GTO parked in the garage next to my dad’s 1969 Chevelle SS, staring at both of them in awe, like most guys do.
“Yeah. Music. As in instruments and lyrics and stuff. I might not be able to be friends with you if you like some of that cliché pop music they always play on the radio.”
He cocks a brow at me. “Do I look like someone who’s into that kind of music?”
I release his hand as we near the car then smirk at him. “Well, my initial assumption would be a no, but you told me not to make assumptions.”
“But I didn’t expect you to listen.”
I wink at him. “I’m an excellent listener, along with many other awesome things.” I skip around to the driver’s side and dive into the backseat, giving the horn a couple of honks on my way.
“Get in!” I call out to Ayden as I push the passenger door open for him.
A second later, he slides onto the leather seat beside me.
“Where are they?” he asks as he settles in the seat, fidgeting with the leather band on his wrist.
“Who knows?” I lean over the console and pound on the horn until the door to the house swings open.
My mom and Lila come wandering out, scolding me for the horn honks. Their scolding is nothing new. I easily shrug it off and sit back in the seat as the drive begins.
My mother does her best not to peel the tires until we’re on the freeway, since the last time she did it out of the driveway the neighbors made a complaint. Once we’re on the long, curvy stretch of road, though, all bets are off.
“Just take it a bit easy, Ella,” Lila begs as she clutches the seat, something she always does when we go driving. “We have a newbie to your … um, interesting driving skills.”
“Awesome driving skills.” My mother smiles at me from the rearview mirror and I grin back, knowing what’s coming.
An instant later, she punches the gas and we’re off, flying down the road and weaving in and out of cars.
I relax and breathe in the air blowing through the window. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Ayden picking at his black fingernail polish.
I stick out my hand and wiggle my fingers. “Look. We match.”
Again, he nearly smiles, but I’ve still yet to witness any sort of happiness from him. It’s got me curious, way more curious than the other kids Aunt Lila and Uncle Ethan have brought home. They all have their sad moments, but not like this, so sullen all the time. It makes me want to get him to smile really, really badly.