🚗 The Ride: The Only Time I Was Instructed to Cry in Case the Cops Came

💔 Conner, Part 2

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This is Conner, Part 2. You may read Conner, Part 1 here.

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T H E R I D E

Upon the investigation conducted by my friends, it was discovered that his name was Conner, and he was a senior, a year above Reece and me. Through their channels, my posse found out he had been pursuing another Asian girl, sending a stab of jealousy through my core.

There’s, like, two Asian girls in this entire town, and of course I would be the one he isn’t interested in.

Although I didn’t know Conner existed before that day he stopped me in the Student Center, with the efforts my friends were taking to get the scoop on him and the allure of a mysterious male who randomly materialized to talk to me, I had developed a crush.

He was cute, with his ginger hair and kind eyes; he was an older guy and played in a band. He was a magnet, the laws of nature pulling me into his field.

Because he was a senior and was not in any of my school activities, the only chances of seeing him were the few minutes of the passing periods between classes, or if he played at the Music Pit. When I did spot him in the halls, my heart would take a leap of hope, yearning for him to talk to me again. Most of the time, though, he never even saw me, just as I hadn’t seen him that night.

Months passed.

The school year ended.

Conner graduated; Reece and I were officially seniors.

It was my final high school summer.

We frequented the Music Pit religiously that year. Even though Thoughts Unspoken wasn’t scheduled to play, Conner was there one night.

It started shitty. My friends were all fighting with each other except me, which meant I was caught in the middle over reasons that I refused to document, specifically stating in my diary that “we’ll all get over it and it won’t be something I want to remember.”

Nights at the Music Pit were spent outside in the parking lot when not inside by the stage, watching different sets. There were always a lot of smokers, so my friends and I preferred to hang out by my car between sets or during bands that we didn’t care to see, an inviting rest for our ears and lungs. We were doing just that, and Erin was leaning against the back of the car parked next to mine.

I took a moment to look at the vehicle propping her up, and my eyes widened as I indulged its exterior. It was beautiful: a sleek, shiny silver; it had two doors and was branded with stars on the back windshield. Stars were mine and Erin’s favorite symbols; we drew them on everything and often bought keepsakes decorated with stars.

I walked to the back of the car and rubbed the fender affectionately, saying hello to it with a quiet, “Aww…”

Erin and I transitioned into my car, she in the backseat, crying over something that had occurred earlier in the night, and I in the front, completely turned around to better comfort her. Through the back windshield, I saw someone approach from the Music Pit’s front doors.

“Erin, here comes Conner,” and she turned around to look, smiling despite the tears moistening her cheeks.

I watched him from the security of my Honda.

“I bet that’s his car,” I breathed as I studied his path. He took out his keys and unlocked it, and I had what Erin and I described as a “spaz attack.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s his car!” I exclaimed, dancing in my seat and fanning myself with my hands, then declared, “I want to go out with him so I can ride in his car.”

Only grabbing something from the interior, Conner got out again.

“Erin, tell him he has a pretty car,” I pleaded, too sheepish to say anything myself.

Erin didn’t have this problem. An extremely attractive person, the opposite sex was much more welcoming to Erin. There were many occasions when I would be looked over, guys’ eyes glossily sliding over me and landing on her. I couldn’t blame them; Erin was pretty, inside and out. She radiated so much love and consideration, therefore never questioning me when I needed a wingwoman.

Erin reached down to open the door, but it got stuck, and she couldn’t open it before Conner sauntered back inside, passing Aurora on the way.

Still in between bands, she had come out to check on us. I took the opportunity to introduce her to the beauty that was Conner’s car, pointing out the stars on the back. Erin rolled down her window.

“What kind of car is it?” Aurora asked curiously. We looked for the logo that is usually in the center of the trunk, but there wasn’t one there. We circled the entire thing, searching for any clue of what make and model it may be, but there was absolutely nothing on the car. It was completely smooth with no other embellishments.

“Maybe it’s shaved,” Aurora said.

“What does that mean?”

“That’s when they don’t have anything on the exterior. It’s supposed to make it go faster or some bullshit.”

We returned to my car, leaning against it just as Conner reappeared, walking toward the vehicle we were circling only seconds before.

As he approached the driver's door, Erin and Aurora pounced, tigers to their prey, bombarding him with compliments.

“Your car is SO PRETTY!”

“I love the stars on the back!”

“It’s so shiny!”

Somehow, this gave me the courage to speak up, too.

“I want it,” I stated.

“I’ll sell it to you for $4000,” he said.

“What?” We gaped at him.

“I’m just kidding,” he teased with a smile as he unlocked the door, “I wouldn’t sell it!”

Erin leaned out of the window and, through the tears she had still been shedding, whispered, “Rachel, you need to go out with him because he’s really cute!”

Then, Aurora’s voice abruptly rang out into the crisp night.

“I want a ride!”

Conner stopped before entering his car and looked up.

“Who wants a ride?”

I do.

“I do!” Aurora stated, not breaking eye contact with Conner, as if she were challenging him.

“Okay,” he said. Then got into the driver's seat.

“Come on, Rachel,” Aurora grabbed my wrist and led me to the passenger door, not bothering to ask if I could be included in this offer. I didn’t object, not even when Aurora instructed that I sit in the front; she was already crawling into the backseat.