Chapter 13

Why do I try to make things better? I suck at it.

I pull on a bright green hoodie to cover my shirt. I'm still wearing my tight jeans, so no worries this time about going next door in just my underwear.

Taking his pants off the floor, I check out the window to see if his is open.

It's not.

Darn it. Guess I'll have to go next door the traditional way, even if that means getting a door slammed in my face.

After knocking, I shove my hands into the front pocket of my sweater. I think there's a sensor or something on his porch that increases heart rates. My pulse beats out of my neck.

Mrs. Hedgehog answers, wearing her janitor uniform.

"Amy!"

"Hi, Aleena."

"Come in, please."

The smell of pumpkin spice tickles my nostrils and sends waves of memories into my brain when I get inside. Mrs. Hedgehog makes the best pumpkin cheesecake.

"Two days in a row," she says her eyes beaming. "I take it you're reconnecting with my little Olgilvie?"

Am I that transparent? Is "I'm friends with a sexy freak" written all over my body? I attempt one of those half smiles Sonic does, but I feel a little queasy.

"You know…" She pulls me under her arm and taps a finger across my nose. "I used to be envious of you two."

My eyebrows shoot upward and I wish she'd pull back. Nothing like a fresh wave of guilt to top off the nausea.

"I never had a friend who lived so close to me. Well, at least one I had so much in common with."

She squeezes my shoulders.

"Sonic is lucky he has someone like you to talk to."

There goes my stomach falling into my butt again. Yeah, he's sure lucky to have someone like me. Someone who will hop into his room when no one is around, but the second she senses someone laughing at her for talking with him, she calls him a stalker and tells him to leave her alone. I'm a real good buddy.

"Um…" Yeah, that's all I can get to come out my mouth. Maybe puke if she keeps talking.

She giggles as she leaves my personal bubble. "I'll go get him."

She doesn't yell up the stairs like normal moms do. She actually goes and gets him. I take another big inhale, letting the spice fill my nostrils. Ah, I miss this house. I miss feeling comfortable here. If it was back in the day, I wouldn't have even used the door. Sonic's window would've been open, and I'd impress him with my ninja window-jumping skills, challenge him to a two-hour Dr. Who trivia session, and any fight we may have just had would be long forgotten. I shuffle my feet in the entryway, trying to shut off the thing in my nose that allows me to smell. But that just makes me sneeze.

"Bless you."

Sonic takes his time going down the stairs, like he's afraid I'm going to suddenly bite him or something.

Yeah, I don't blame him.

"Thanks."

"What do you want?"

He seems to ask that a lot. And I never give him an honest answer.

"Uh, here," I say, holding his jeans out.

He cocks his eyebrow in that awesome sexy way and takes them.

"You washed them already?"

Crap. "No, sorry."

He shrugs and tosses them down the hall toward the laundry room.

"That all?" He tucks his hands in his back pockets, his plaid overshirt opening to reveal his ribbed sweater and collar shirt sticking out from underneath.

My mouth fires off without me thinking. "Did you wear that shirt to school today?"

"Yeah." He pulls his hands out of his pockets and folds his arms, covering the words. "Is that all you want?"

Throwing him a sheepish grin, I pull up my hoodie so he can see my shirt. I'm ready for his mouth to upturn in that irresistible smile, but instead he goes blood-orange red and tugs my sweater back down.

"If you don't need anything else, I've got a lot of stuff to do."

"Sonic, I…"

"You can save it."

I startle back from his tone. "Save what?"

"Whatever you want to say. It doesn't matter."

"Why do you say that?" I'm trying to keep the hurt out of my voice, but I don't know how successful I am.

He glares at me, like I should be smart enough to figure it out. "I really do have a lot of crap to do." He rubs his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "So, if that's all you want, you should go."

"I-I'm sorry," I sputter.

He shakes his head. "I don't want to hear it, Ames."

I'm chipping at him. He used the nickname.

"It's not like that with me and Jet. I… he wanted… I can't…" Argh! I can't get the words out because I don't know what the right ones are.

"You think I'm upset because some guy was all over you?"

I nod—lying to him. Again. I know it's much deeper than that.

"Guys are always all over you. At least the ones you talk to."

I'm not sure what to say. He's right, so I can't argue. So I say the only thing I can. "I'm sorry."

He sighs, dropping his hands back into his pockets. "Don't worry about it. Like I said yesterday, it's not like we're friends or anything."

I really wish he'd stop saying that.

"Will you still give me a driving lesson today?" I know I'm pushing his limits. But I can't help myself. I want to spend time with him. I have to do something to clean up the mess I made, even though I'll probably end up making it worse.

But it's like I'm addicted to him or something.

"I don't know."

I gulp, and dig up the courage to say something I haven't in a long time. "Please?"

Sonic raises his eyebrow again, probably surprised I asked nicely. He seems to argue with himself, chomping his teeth and running his hands through his spiky quills, interlocking his fingers behind his neck. I play with my ring underneath the pocket of my hoodie, trying really hard not to blow out my cheeks as I wait.

Finally he opens the door and steps outside. "Let's go. But it's gonna be a short lesson today."

I nod, forcing back the wide smile that wants to glue itself on my face as I follow him to my car. "Thanks."

Sonic doesn't open my door for me, but it sure looks like he wants to. He stops halfway up the drive and stares at the car like it's giving him a pop quiz. Then he slumps his shoulders and climbs into the passenger seat.

Guess I'm not as forgiven as I thought.

I strap the seat belt on, my hands shaking like the paint mixer again. Sonic's not paying attention to me though. He's picking at the stray fabric on his khaki jeans, not a word passing his lips.

"Okay, so I just need to keep my foot on the clutch and the brake to start the car?" I ask, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

He nods.

A defeated sigh seeps out as I turn the key. He doesn't offer to shift. Still says nothing as I smack my hand on the stick, shoving it downward into that screwed up reverse position. The only response I get is his eyebrows shooting skyward in approval.

He starts picking at his jeans again as I back up.

And stall.

I growl and let my head fall on the steering wheel. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Are you talking to yourself, or me?"

I puff up my cheeks and let it out before I answer. "You."

"Look, I said I'd teach you how. So I'm going to follow through."

"But you don't want to." I peek under my arm so I can get a look at his face. He presses his wrist in between his eyebrows, like he's got a major headache or something.

"Just start the car, Ames."

I want to cry. I totally deserve the frosty attitude, but it doesn't mean it hurts any less. Sonic's only been this pissed at me once. And it was my fault then too.

Instead of apologizing again, since it'd be pointless, I start the car, put it in gear and try to stay calm as I reverse out of the driveway. When I get to the street, I'm not sure how to shift, but I try my best, Sonic watching my hand without making a sound.

The grinding the car makes as I shove the shifter in first makes me cringe, but Sonic still stays silent. He doesn't look bored, or annoyed, or even angry. He looks like he's beyond caring. I'd rather take the anger.

The car jerks forward as I ease off the throttle, rocking us both in our seats. This continues during the entire drive to the parking lot we went to before. I pull in, and shut off the car, my eyes watering. I can't tell if I'm more humiliated or hurt because of what I've done to him.

"You did really good." His voice still sounds like he's trying not to care, but he's saying it anyway. "It takes practice."

I nod, 'cause my voice will totally come out all juicy and snotty if I attempt to use it.

It's silent between us, that horrid awkward silence that makes the tension in the air like sniffing glue. I feel sick, and stupid, and want it to all go away.

A growl erupts from Sonic's throat which makes me recoil in my seat.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

His concern locks a fist around my throat, making me croak out my words. "What?"

"There's something wrong. What is it?"

I shake my head. "It's nothing. Just forget it."

"Ames…"

His hand goes for mine, but then he stops mid-air. A heat wave comes off his face as he pretends he was just going to scratch an imaginary itch.

"I don't like it when you're mad at me," I blurt. "Even though you have every right to be pissed."

Sonic growls again. A really guttural and menacing growl as he smacks his fist on the roof of the car. "I don't get you."

"What do you mean?" I say, though I know exactly what he means. I don't get me either.

"What is this to you?" He waves his hand between the two of us. "Are you using me like you use everyone? Once you know how to drive that'll be it?"

He thinks I use people? Oh gosh. He's starting to think Popular Amy is the real Amy. I mean, that's what I thought I wanted, but it's totally not. I like that he knows Freak Amy. Because Freak Amy is just… Amy.

"Do you want that to be it?"

"You're not answering me. I don't like games. So if you want this to be a teacher-student thing, then keep it that way. No more treating me the way you do at school then coming over to say sorry so I'll help you. No more jumping across our windows to get into my room. You obviously don't care as much as I thought you did."

"No, please…" I stutter, my eyes ready to flood out. Great. "I didn't mean… at school, it's just so different. I don't know what happens to me."

"I know exactly what happens to you." He shakes his head and starts tapping his foot.

"But… I… I never ever mean to… I guess I don't think about it hurting you." I slam my face on the steering wheel again. "I'm selfish. That's what happens to me. I can't think about anyone but myself when I'm there."

"I don't think that's true, either."

My brow crinkles as I turn to him. "What?"

"If you only thought about yourself, who you really are, you wouldn't care about what other people think so much." He looks out his window, his breath fogging up the glass. "And you're still not answering me."

"What was the question, again?"

He rolls his head back to look at me. "Are you using me?"

I shake my head wildly. It may come off its hinges.

"You're saying you want to be my friend again?"

Is that hope in his voice? Like, does he want that too?

I totally want to be close to him. To hug him and tell him that's exactly what I want. Without really thinking, I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean over him, taking in his intoxicating scent. His breath catches with his surprise at our proximity, but he doesn't move. His eyes lock with mine, searching for the answer to his question.

A flash of movement passes the window behind his head, pulling my eyes away from his.

Outside, Knuckles and Shade walk across the park grass, snuggled into each other, laughing and flirting.

Crap. If they look this way and see me leaning over Sonic like this, I mean forget the Chlamydia rumors. It'll all be about me seducing the Head Freak. It sucks to think of Sonic that way. Because he's so much more than just someone people make fun of. He's fun, funny, super awesome to hang out with, and accepts people for who they are. He's not afraid either. To be himself.

And I'm nothing like that.

I'm afraid of myself.

I reach over Sonic and yank on the seat release and he flies back, letting out a yelp.

I fumble around with the keys, start the car and screech out of the parking lot without stalling the dang thing.

Sonic adjusts his seat. "What was that about?" He turns around to look out the back window, and his voice lowers. "Oh."

I open my mouth to say the apology on my tongue, but he stops it.

"I think you've got the hang of this driving stick stuff. Take me home."

I nod, because there's really nothing to say, and then stall the car.

I try again.

And again.

And again.

Still nothing. My legs shake too much to concentrate, and all of a sudden Sonic yells at me.

"You have to feather the clutch, Amy! You're doing it too fast."

My defenses zap into place as another wave of tears splash down my cheeks. I'm always crying around him. "I'm trying!"

He puts his hand on my knee, but it's totally not sexy. He tries to control my foot as I let it off the clutch.

The car goes forward, then comes to an abrupt stop.

"ARRR!" I scream and shake the steering wheel. I so can't do this right now. I'm hurting him. Hurting me. Hurting everyone.

"Get out." Sonic unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his door.

"What?"

"Get out!"

I crawl into the passenger seat, pouting like a freaking five-year-old. I know the person I should be pissed at is me, but Sonic is the one who's going to get the brunt of it.

"I'm sorry! I can't concentrate!"

"It's 'cause you're in too much of a hurry to get out of here without being seen with me," he snaps. "So let me help you."

He starts the car and shifts like a crazy racecar driver, and before I know it, we're back in my driveway.

"Were you watching?" he says as he chucks the keys in my lap. "That's how you drive stick. And that's your last lesson. Hope you learned something."

"Sonic, wait." He doesn't. He's already halfway across the lawn separating our houses by the time I catch up to him.

"Look, I'm sorry," I say grabbing his arm.

"Just stop it!" He jerks back from my hold and I stare at him like an idiot. "Why am I such an embarrassment to you?"

Again, I have no answer for him. He shakes his head, his quills flying around his face.

"Forget it."

Everything inside me says I need to go after him, but I stay put. There's nothing I can say that wouldn't be totally contradictory to what I do.

I stop the flow of tears and stomp to my bedroom, slamming the door so hard I'm surprised my house is still standing.

Flattening my lips into a straight line, I gaze out my window at Sonic's room. He wants to chuck keys at me? Yell? Continue to be dork of the year? Fine.

He'll never understand anyway. He won't get it. He's never been popular. He's never had to hide who he really is because he can handle it.

I can't.

And I'll probably never be able to.

x.X.x

Wowza, I hope Ur guys's holidays are going better than these twos! What ya'll think? Am I the only one that thinks Sonic has a sense of style? Hmmm, maybe its just me...