“Yeah, I guess so. How was last night? Did you patch everything up? And are you going to tell me what’s going on with you two?”
“Only if you promise to tell me about you-know-who.”
I wasn’t sure if I could trust myself not to tell her what was going on. Even if I tried not to, she had a way of pulling it out of me, which would be fine under normal circumstances. Except this wasn’t my secret to protect.
“Who wants to know? Madame Woo?” I asked.
“Nah. That was kind of stupid anyway. I just want to know.”
Stupid? She certainly seemed to find it funny yesterday. I could hear a shuffling and another voice in the background.
“Is Ryan there right now?”
“No, we’re meeting him later.”
“Then who…?”
“Gotta go! Pick you up at eight.”
I weighed my options. Garreth said he would be back tonight, however I had no idea what that meant in angelspeak. If I said no to Claire, my mother would pry.
Saturday night out with Claire was practically a tradition. How could I break it?
I hung up and absentmindedly scratched the palm of my hand. Maybe things were turning around. I didn’t feel very lucky but maybe, just maybe, things would work out with Garreth, with Hadrian, with my suddenly frantic and insane life.
I took the crust left on my plate and tossed it into the trash.
“Plans with Claire?” Mom’s nose was in the paper.
“Yep. Plans with Claire.”
I was thinking about heaven as I went upstairs to get ready. Heaven. Immediately, Garreth came to mind and I thought about canceling with Claire and waiting for the one person who would make me truly happy. But that wouldn’t work, coming up with an excuse to both Claire and my mother. So, heaven would have to wait.
Most people waited a lifetime for it. In my case, I was the lucky one. It would wait for me, at least until I came home.
I ran down the steps to the white car waiting below. The dull pounding of bass poured loudly from the stereo and out the door that had been opened for me, the one I quickly shut once I slid inside.
“What are you listening to?” I felt myself grimace at the blaring noise that clearly had no right to be labeled music.
“It’s Ryan’s. Cool, huh?” Claire had to yell over the screeching guitar solo that filled every possible inch of space inside the small car. Strangely, she didn’t seem to mind. She peeled away from the curb, the tires of the Cabrio screaming for traction on the pavement.
There was no need to answer whether I liked the music or not. My voice couldn’t compete with the heavy metal or the peeling rubber. Besides, something told me that she didn’t really care anyway.
I felt my face redden at the thought of my neighbors, peering out from behind their curtains at the racket we were causing or, worse yet, the look on my mother’s face as we drove away.
“Do you mind turning it down?”
“What?”
“Turn it down!”
I knew that was probably a bad idea. It would open the door to the conversation I wasn’t prepared for, my date with Garreth. But, at least, it wouldn’t cause me to lose my hearing at an early age.
I was shocked when Claire obliged, turning the knob the slightest bit possible to the left. At least I no longer had to shout.
“Don’t you LOVE this?”
“It’s not my favorite, but hey, to each his own.”
I stared at the stack of newly acquired CDs. I recognized two out of the whole pile. As I thumbed through the case for something milder, I realized her old music had been replaced entirely. What confused me most was the stereo facing me. It was huge and expensive-looking, housing so many buttons and switches that it wouldn’t surprise me if a nuclear warhead could be detonated from it.
“What happened to your old stereo? You know, the one your brother installed for your birthday? Four months ago?!”
“Oh, isn’t this great? Ryan said the acoustics on my old stereo were junk.”
“Old stereo? Junk? Hello? It was brand new! Top of the line!” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Simon mowed a lot of lawns last summer to get that for you.”
I could only imagine the amount of hurt Claire’s older brother would feel when he learned all his efforts had been tossed away. At that precise point, the volume turned up, just enough to conveniently drown me out.
I stared out the window, speechless and desperately wishing I had never agreed to go out with my best friend who was suddenly a stranger. Claire was not Claire tonight and it was more than her sudden change in musical preference. With each streetlamp we passed under, the inside of the car became illuminated for a few seconds, allowing me glimpses of Claire’s transformation: the outfit, the makeup, the very different Claire she had chosen to become tonight.
I ran a compatibility check between the two of us in my head during the six seconds of silence between tracks, which was, amazingly, more deafening than the music had been. I noticed Starbucks pass by my window in a blur.
“Uh, Claire. You missed the turn!” I reached for the knob and twisted it violently to the left as far as it would go. “Claire! You passed it!”
“I know.” She looked over at me, a smirk turning up the corners of her mouth. She was deviously calm. “We’re not getting coffee. We’re getting out.”
“Going out or getting out?”
“Take your pick, but I’m not spending another boring Saturday night in this town!”
The big green sign flying past us on the right gave me a red-flag warning and before I could say another word we were leaving Hopewell’s city limits and crossing into the next town. I knew with sickening clarity what was happening. It had been going around school but no one had been brave enough to follow through.
“A rave? We’re going to a rave?!”
My voice shrilled an octave or two higher than normal and Claire looked at me, disappointed; still, it did nothing to persuade her to turn the car around. My hand shot out to the dashboard and put an end to the music once and for all, but not without earning a nasty glare.
“Did it ever occur to you that we might have a little problem getting in?”
Reigning in the sarcasm was serious work. I was so ready to explode at her right now, but I knew that would only make things worse. Besides, this wasn’t normal for us. We never got into arguments, unless it was over which flavor of ice cream to have or which late night rerun to watch. But this? This never happened. This was insanity.
I let my head fall back against the headrest but the pounding in my skull was beyond repair. Sitting up, I yanked my purse from under my seat where it had slid thanks to Claire’s erratic driving. Obviously, she had been driving to the beat of the music, which explained a lot.
“That’s just great,” I huffed, throwing my purse back down.
“What? No license?”