From The Start (1st Draft)

Chapter 9

Finally the rain settled down, and was now only a drizzle, filling the air with a musty fragrance. We decided to start heading back to the car, in the dark, walking as fast as we could because of how wet we still were. Everything was so much fun, it was changing my life in so many different ways.

We got in the car eventually and closed the doors, him turning the keys into the ignition while I put on my seat belt, remembering how he noticed it not being buckled on the ride over here. Every part of me was drenched. Right before I asked him to put the heat on he did, without even hearing me tell him to, which oddly made me laugh. We were so alike.

"It got really cold outside all of a sudden," he said to me, putting on the headlights and driving onto the path that was now in pitch black.

"I know, tell me about it," I laughed. "Isn't it still summer too?"

"Yeah actually. I hate the warm weather though."

I kept my eyes on him in shock. "What?" I gasped, mouth wide open.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I don't like summer that much."

"How do you not like the heat?" I laughed, more at him then at anything else. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope, I'm extremely serious," he told me. "I hate the hot weather."

"What?" I demanded.

"Stop making such a big deal about it, it's just my opinion," he told me slowly.

"Well Alexander, your opinion is very strange."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"I've lived in Florida my whole life, and I still love the sun! I never get tired of it. What's your favorite season then?"

"Winter," he smiled, quickly glancing at me. "And fall."

"Eww! Winter? The cold?" I laughed.

"The freezing cold, yeah," he shook his head. "I mean the fall is nice too."

"The fall is still sweatshirt weather!"

"That's why I like it. It's in the middle, between hot and cold," he explained. "What can I say, I love the leaves falling, and the hot chocolate."

"Woah," I mumbled, realizing it was one thing we didn't agree on.

"What?" he muttered, laughter in his tone.

"How can you not love the hotness, and the sun, and tanning?"

"Me and my sister are already pretty tan. We don't need to have the sun bake us alive to get some color," he bragged.

"Well I do, even though I'm Italian I still stay pretty white," I groaned.

"I'm Italian too, and french," he interrupted, excitement in his voice.

"French?" I gasped. "Wow, that's pretty cool. I heard they're good lovers."

He laughed at that one. "Oh yeah," I caught him smile. "You never know."

"Well I'm Italian and Irish, my father is full Irish, and my mother is Italian, so yeah. But anyways," I sang. "I can't ever get enough of the heat."

"All there is in the summer is ice water, and pools," he shrugged, a rabbit jumping across the path and making it safely to the other side.

"It's a bunny!" I pointed, accidentally yelling it, him screeching the car to a stop.