“Where to, beautiful?”
The husky tone of the young man seated to my right caught me by surprise. I’d expected a squeaky teen voice, not the sexy timbre of a man. I turned his way, huddling inside the leather jacket he tossed around my shoulders. Hints of cherry, motor oil, and a woodsy, earthy scent mingled together as our eyes met. Rich melted chocolate swirled within his gaze as he leaned slightly in my direction.
“Not in a hurry?”
I loved the sound of his voice. For someone young, he sounded older and more mature than most of the guys I knew. There was something different and mysterious about him, and I wanted to learn more. It was entirely out of character for me to be so bold, but I wasn’t scared of Shadow. Something about him felt safe.
“Not really,” I finally replied. “Can we just go for a drive?”
“Sure. I can cruise Hwy 95 for a bit.”
“That’s perfect.”
He put the car in drive and headed toward the gate, fist-bumping another prospect before merging onto the highway. Silence followed for a few miles as he turned up the radio, changing the station to a metal and rock one I loved.
“Octane Radio is my favorite. They play a lot of great music.”
“I agree,” I replied, shocked when he began to sing an Avenged Sevenfold song that drifted through the speakers. It wasn’t a new hit but So Far Away played, and we both chimed in as the guitars and lyrics transported us to a place only fans could appreciate.
As the music faded, I noticed he was staring in my direction. “I love that song. So tragic but lovely.”
“Exactly,” he murmured, keeping his left hand on the steering wheel and casually placing his right hand between us. “You still cold?”
“Not really.” I started to lift the jacket off my shoulders, but he shook his head.
“No, keep it on until we get to your place. I want you to stay comfortable.”
“Thanks.”
A few more songs played on the radio that we both enjoyed until he cleared his throat, casually glancing my way. “Pres said you weren’t eighteen yet. How old are you?”
“Just turned seventeen. You?”
“Nineteen. Twenty in the spring.”
“Are you in college?”
“No,” he laughed. “Got held back. I’m graduating in January.”
“Why did you get held back?”
I couldn’t say why I was so curious about Shadow, but I was burning with questions. He wasn’t stupid. His words were spoken with a precision that few people our age ever bothered to articulate. He struck me as the kind of person who never missed a thing that happened around him. Like he saw every tiny detail other people missed.
“Been in foster care since birth but traveled all over the state. Moving around so much and never being able to put down roots, I didn’t do well in school. Ended up flunking fifth grade and repeating it. Then I missed half a year of high school and had to make it up. I’m all good now.”
Foster care? How sad. “You don’t know your parents?”
“Nope. My mom was a druggie and signed me over at birth. Been on my own ever since.”
I didn’t detect any bitterness in his tone, but I did catch the loneliness he tried to hide. “I’m sorry, Shadow. That sounds awful.”
He reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers, giving them a light squeeze. “I think I was better off in the long run. What life would I have had with a mother who didn’t love me?”
He spoke the words so nonchalantly that my heart ached for him and the loss of a relationship he should have had. It was rotten luck and a shitty hand that he was dealt. No one child should ever have to experience what he endured.
“What about high school? Why did you miss half a year?”
Shadow cleared his throat, appearing uncomfortable for the first time. “That was when I had my accident.”