REJECTS\\M.C.

-5-

-hannah-

Michael opens the car door, the smell of an air freshener and the sounds of 1975 drifting over to me before he asks, "Hey can we give Hannah a ride home?"

"Yeah, sure," I hear and Michael straights to open the back door.

He smiles at me and gestures with his hand, his smile so sweet and kind it makes me nervous. I clench my jaw as I remind myself to be cautious, but something about him continues to break that barrier down. And I can't figure it out.

"Thank you," I mutter as I slide into the back seat and Micheal shuts the door.

The sound startles me as I buckle my seat belt and I realize I'm alone with a stranger before Michael climbs into the seat in front of me.

"Hi, I'm Ash," the driver turns around, an extremely attractive young man, must be a year or two older than Michael, with wild curly hair sticking out from under his beanie and dimples so deep I can see them in the dim light from the interior light above him.

"Hannah," I say, feeling insecure and hug my backpack to my chest.

"Nice to meet you, Hannah," he smiles and I feel butterflies in my stomach, his dimples making him appear so amiable and charming.

His eyes roam over my face and then my arms clutching my bag then back to my face, his dimples reappearing when his eyes connect back to mine. My palms sweat nervously and I swallow, wishing he would stop looking at me as Michael buckles his seat belt.

He finally turns around and I release a breath of relief, taking note to keep an eye out on this one in case he ever comes around again. I feel unease knowing I could run into him from time to time as he could continue to pick Michael up after nightly sessions. I contemplate only allowing morning sessions when Ashton says my name.

"Hannah?" He says calmly and I look up to see him staring at me through the rearview mirror.

"Yes?" I say quietly.

"Whats the name of your street?" Michael says as Ashton puts the car in first gear and heads out of the parking lot.

"Willow," I say.

"Willow," Ashton repeats and I see his brows furrow in concentration.

"It's the first street after the football field," Michael informs him. "But I don't know how far down."

"Okay," Ashton nods as he circles the school and then turns down Ula Cress, the football field behind us.

"You can just drop me off here," I say as he makes it to the intersection and I reach down to unclip my seat belt.

"No, I'm not gonna make you walk," Ashton's voice squeaks and he turns down my street.

"No, right here is fine," I implore, unbuckling my belt but he doesn't stop.

"Which one is yours?" Michael asks, looking out the windows before Ashton looks at me in the rearview mirror again.

"You can let me out here, it's okay," I say again, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"I can drop you off at your door," Ashton says, his voice very calm and sounding kind; probably his way to manipulate girls.

"No really it's okay," I begin to panic as I see my dads car in the driveway.

"C'mon, Hannah which one is it?" Michael asks.

"Yeah, I want to make sure you get inside," Ashton says and I begin feel nauseous.

"STOP!" I screech before I slam forward into the back of Michael's seat when Ashton slams on the brakes.

"Shit, are you okay?" Ashton turns around to ask and reaches his hand out to me, but I don't answer him. I throw the car door open and jump out, walking quickly to my door while I beg them in my mind to leave.

"Hannah, what about our next session?" I hear Michael call out. I ignore him as I approach my door but he persists, Ashton driving along to follow me. "Hannah?"

"Just go!" I snap as I turn to them, watching his face fall and then they drive away.

I try to control my breathing and shaking hands as I walk up the steps, my fingers fumbling with my keys. They eventually unlock the door and I quietly slip inside, heading straight for my room. I gently shut my door behind me and place my backpack at my desk, taking deep breaths.

I made it.

I unzip my backpack to grab out the Old Man and Sea when my heart sinks, the sounds of footsteps headed my direction. A single knock rings out on my door before it opens and my dad steps in. I stare at my book as he approaches and stops behind me.

"Where were you?" He asks coolly.

"I'm tutoring for extra credit. I told you."

"And where were you?"

"At the library," I answer him.

"And who drove you home?" He asks, my stomach catching in my throat.

"The boy I'm tutoring. He didn't want me to walk home alone in the dark."

"Will he be driving you often?"

"No," I shake my head briskly.

"Okay," he states and turns around, walking back out of my room. He stops in the door way, making me tense up before he requests, "I'd like to see you in my office."

I nod and he shuts the door. A silent sob racks through my whole body as I allow one tear to fall. Clenching my jaw, I stand up and brace myself before my eyes land on the purple hued painting I created the night before. I fixate on the colors, locking them into my retinas as I go numb and head downstairs to my father's office.