This may well end up being a four-shot. Kissing next chapter!
Chapter Two
"Are you even going to tell me what happened with your dad?" He asks sipping on his can of coke.
"Why do you assume it had to do with my dad?"
"I don't know because you always come to me when something upsetting happens with your dad. Am I right? It has to do with him?"
If it wasn't so dark I'm sure he'd be able to see the smirk on my face, but I'm saved by the night. He knows me too well.
"Okay, we'll talk about that later and yes we will talk about that later Margaret. I'm not one of your boy toys, we actually talk." He pauses and I don't even have to look over to know there's a scowl on his face. He hates every new guy in my life. I'll agree they're definitely shit heads but they're my business not his. I don't say shit about the bimbos that walk in and out of his life.
"So where do we need to go so quickly that I couldn't even tell my mom that I was leaving?"
I laugh because he actually thinks that he could go anywhere without Hazelle knowing. That woman has eyes and ears all over. Once we were sitting in his room and Gale whispered, fucking whispered as low as possible, so low that it was hard for me to hear that he failed an exam and I swear she was in the room before he could finish the sentence. I knew that she would know so I told her. I just hadn't gotten around to telling him that I had actually told her.
"I have a crazy idea," I say.
He raises his eyebrows. "Another? Now this I got to hear."
"Let's put my iPod on shuffle and wherever the next artist is from then that's where we head. Sound good?"
He's laughing now, the kind of laughing that makes your stomach hurt and tears collect at the corners of your eyes and I get caught up in it. I'm laughing just as hard and it's starting to get hard to drive so I pull over onto the shoulder.
"You are fucking crazy, but fine. Fuck it."
I grab my iPod, connecting it to the car's radio. We'd been listening to the same ten songs on the radio for the last hour.
"Ready?" I ask, turning to take in his facial features in the moonlight.
"Ready?" He affirms and I see his eyes flicker down to my hand, lingering, before they return to my face. I thread my hands through his if he's so scared. It's not like it means anything.
He stops me before I start. "Wait. What if they're from another country?"
"Then we're obviously skipping it. Are you ready?"
He nods and I do it.
The riff to Glee's version of 'Don't Stop Believing Comes on' and I burst out laughing.
Gale laughs. "One, this is wrong. Two, this does not count."
"Okay, okay." I skip forward.
And then we hear that fucking stomping, hand-clapping start that automatically says Peeta Mellark to both of us.
Gale looks at me like I've betrayed him, dropping our linked hands. "You like this song? Who are you? Are you Peeta Mellark?" He pokes me in the stomach. "Are there pastries in there?"
I shove his hand away. "Shut up! It's catchy! You like it too! I've heard you humming it!"
"That's because it's all Rory will listen to!"
I laugh, seeing right through his lies.
I grab my phone googling the band, "Las Vegas it is."
"I guess." His hands are folded across his chest. I take the car out of park, but before doing that I push him.
When the second chorus starts I glance over at him. He glances back, a smirk on his face, but he won't fall prey to the catchiness of the song. Except he will. I will lure him. I've gotten him to like plenty of songs that he previously hated.
I open my mouth to belt out the next lyrics.
"Don't."
I smile wide, opening my mouth again.
"Don't, Madge."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do. Don't."
"It's time to begin, isn't it? I get a little bit bigger but then I'll admit I'm just the same as I was! Now don't you understand! That I'm never changing who I am!" I am obnoxiously loud, as obnoxious and loud as I can get. It has to be this way so the next chorus he'll sing along. It's like this every time. The more animated, the quicker it is for him to sing along and the more enthused he'll be while he sings.
I like when we sing along to songs. It's pretty often when we both happen to like the song, but when it's something on the radio (which means he naturally hates it) it's a little harder to get him to sing, but eventually he will. He always does. It took him especially long to sing Cobra Starship. On those days I had to make Peeta sit in front.
It's always necessary to have a co-pilot who will sing along with you.
Peeta was the only one who would sing Gabe's part so I could sing Leighton Meester's part. I wouldn't push that on Gale ever though. I know his limits, unlike him; Peeta has none when it comes to singing.
He is going to hate the mixes I made for this trip.
I push him again as I belt out the lyrics. It takes a little bit to get him started. I push him again, but this time I give him a look to say it's his cue to start.
Just as predicted, by the next chorus he's singing along like a champ, like he hadn't just complained about singing it in the first place.
He pushes me, smiling the entire time while he sings. It's easy to see why girls are always all over him. I can't even blame them.
"I hate you," he starts as the song ends. "You will never tell anyone about this."
"Who would I tell?" I say innocently, lighting a cigarette. I'm finally free to do as I please now that we're away from our parents.
"You got me to sing Ke$ha once! Once! And the day after I had Peeta and Thom ragging on me all day. Katniss couldn't even look me in the eye without laughing!"
"It's not my fault. Peeta may or may not have called me and I answered without you knowing."
"Why do I put myself in these situations? It's like I never learn just how evil you are."
I cackle loudly. I can admit that was sort of out of line, but it was priceless. It needed to be recorded for future generations.
"You're lucky they didn't hear your rendition of 'Last Friday Night,' the you'd be fucked."
"I think you mean then I wouldn't get fucked."
I laugh along with him even though the thought makes my throat tighten and stomach drop. It's really stupid I know, but I've always sort of nursed this small, microscopic crush on Gale and now that we've grown a lot closer it's gotten worse, a lot worse. Bad to the point that I hate, like hate with everything inside of me, any girl that he likes, even that he just comments are attractive. It's dumb, and I've gotten a lot better with the hating thing, I just haven't made any progress on the crush itself. I date a lot. It helps. Sort of.
He sees the change and stops, watching me as I take a long drag of my cigarette. Thankfully, he misinterprets my sudden silence as being upset about my father.
"Will you tell me why we're on this road trip now?" The words are spoken gently, it's as if he thinks I'll break if he says them with any force. He's worried for me. He's always worried for me, especially when it comes to my relationship with my father. Since my mother died, he's all I have and all Gale wants for me is to have a good relationship with him. I think it has to do with the fact that he doesn't have his father anymore.
"He says if I'm not pre-med he won't pay for my college. He wants me to go right from Vanderbilt to John Hopkins."
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to study music, you know that. I want to be a music teacher or maybe double major in psychology. I could do art therapy. I don't know what I want to do exactly, but I should have the choice. He can't manipulate me to do whatever he wants. This is for my career, what I'll be doing for the rest of my life." I flick the ashes off the cigarette off the edge of the window before taking another long drag.
I feel Gale's hand come out to grab the cigarette out of my hand and he brings it to his mouth, taking a drag. I'm so busy watching him inhale that I don't notice his other hand land on my thigh. He pats down on it. "I'm sure everything will be fine, Maggie. Don't worry about it. You're an adult now. He can't control you anymore, not that he ever really did." His hand that was previously on my thigh comes up to tuck my hair behind my ear. I stifle a shiver from the touch. He grins wolfishly, the cigarette dangling from his mouth. He lightly fingers the piercings. My father threw a fit when he saw it and back then it had only been one on my right cartilage, now there are a few more that accompany it.
"You've always done whatever you wanted."
"You're one to talk."
The corner of his lip tugs upward. "Just keep driving, Undersee."
A few drops of water fall onto the windshield and at the sight of them I roll my window up.
"You better hurry and finish that up. I won't have my car getting soaked on account of your weak lungs."
He takes a final drag, before flicking it out the window. "Weak longs, eh?"
Thanks for reading!