The Songs in Our Hearts: A Young Adult Romance

by Chantal Gadoury

  Micah rolled down his window. “Come on, slow poke. Before the ice caps melt.”

  I walked around the car and slipped inside. He was wearing cologne, which smelled pretty good. I hadn’t ever really noticed his scent before, in the few times I’d been around him. I rubbed my palms over my knees and chewed the inside of my cheek as he backed out of my driveway and started down the road toward the Mini-Mart.

  “So, I was thinking about asking my old friends, Paul and Marshall, to help out with the film. One of them can be the monster, and the other the camera man. That way I can focus on the part of Victor and I don’t have to hold the camera like we’re taking a selfie.”

  I smirked at that. I could only imagine filming a video and having to act cheek-to-cheek. Awkward.

  “If they’re willing,” I said.

  “Oh, they will be,” Micah responded. “I promised them a huge pizza with as many toppings as they want. A man will do anything for food.”

  “I think it’s more like, a teenage guy will do anything for food.”

  “True that.” Micah pulled into the Mini-Mart parking lot and grinned. “Sodas are on me.”

  “I figured as much,” I teased, and then shook my head. “I brought money. Don’t worry about me.” I wasn’t comfortable with Micah paying for me. I was a strong, independent woman capable of paying for my own stuff. I did get an allowance, after all! And if Micah paid, wouldn’t that count as a taking me out sort of thing? Like a date?

  I climbed out of the car and followed him inside the convenience store. He made his way to the coolers, while I wandered toward the slushy machine. I had a weakness for a good ole blue raspberry and cherry slushy—layered, not mixed. I grabbed a medium-sized cup and started creating my colorful concoction. Micah came over, laughing as he watched me.

  “What are you, five?”

  “Obviously, six. I have to be old enough to use the machine correctly.”

  Micah grabbed a lid and straw for me as I displayed my masterpiece to him.

  “And you just drink it like that?” he asked.

  “Are you kidding me? You’ve never had a layered slushy before?”

  “I’m afraid I’ve never been educated in the ways of Charlie’s slushies.”

  “It’s not even my own thing. I think Josh and his friends showed me this. And I’m sure someone had to have shown them. This is a legit thing.”

  “Riiighht.”

  “Whatever. Don’t dis it till you’ve tried it.” I grabbed the lid and straw and walked over to the register and started to hand the cashier a five-dollar bill when Micah slipped his hand past mine with a ten.

  “A soda and a weird slushy,” he said to the cashier.

  “I can pay for mine,” I tried. I pushed my money to the cashier, who was staring at us.

  “My treat,” Micah insisted. “I asked you to come out. You pay next time.”

  Next time. Would there be a next time? I guessed that if there was, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Right? Friends get beverages with each other all the time. The cashier took Micah’s ten-dollar bill, settling the squabble herself. Micah grabbed his soda and pushed the change into his front jeans pocket.

  “Wanna go hang out at the park?”

  “Pretty sure the park is closed after dusk.” I followed him back out into the empty parking lot.

  “Oh, right. I forgot. I’m with Little Miss I-Never-Live-A-Little.”

  “No, no,” I interrupted, holding up a hand. “If you’re going to insult me, get it right.” I grinned at Micah as I walked to the passenger side. “It’s Little Miss I-Don’t-Feel-Like-Getting-Arrested.”

  “Arrested? For wandering around a park?”

  “Rules are made for a reason.”

  Micah opened his soda and took a long swig. He was a Pepsi kind of guy, apparently. Not Coke. That could be a deal-breaker.

  “Yeah, to be broken.” He laughed. Yeah, I should have seen that coming, especially from him. “If you’re really nervous about wearing orange, we could drive out to the old grocery store. I like to hang out there sometimes. And it’s a perfect night to see the stars.”

  “I told my dad I wouldn’t be gone long,” I said, thinking of my parents in the living room. I wasn’t the type of daughter to cause worry. I was always home by curfew, if not before. “He told me to be home in an hour.”

  “We won’t be out long. I need to get back to the house anyway,” Micah reassured me. “I told you, trust me. I’ll take care of you.”

  It wasn’t something I was used to hearing from anyone other than my parents and Josh. I could see the sincerity of Micah’s words reflected in his eyes. He tapped the roof of the car, his lips quirking up into a smile.

  “Get in the car before you get all sappy on me.”

  “Oh, whatever.” I slid into the passenger seat. Sappy. He wished I would get all sappy with him.

  Micah started up the car and turned his attention to his radio. He slipped an unlabeled CD into the stereo. “I’ll teach you a bit about some real music.”

  “You act as though you didn’t say Tom Odell was your jam.”

  “Tom Odell is my jam, but there is so much more to the world of music.”

  Micah put the car into gear. “Just sit back, relax and enjoy yourself. I know you don’t have much experience with that…but try.”

  I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my slushy. It was so good. A content sigh escaped as I lowered my drink into the cup holder. The music started and Bryan Adams’ voice filled the speaker. I looked up, completely surprised by his choice of music. I never would have thought Micah as Bryan Adams fan.

  “Slushy good?” Micah asked. I nodded and gestured to the cup.

  “Taste it. You’ll never know greatness until you do.”

  Micah made a face. “That’s all right. Slushies aren’t really my thing.”

  “Your loss,” I said. “By the way…Bryan Adams?”

  “Bryan Adams,” Micah nodded, and dialed up the volume. I recognized the song as “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You.” I listened until we pulled into the old grocery store parking lot. If I remembered correctly, this was the love song for Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves—one of my dad’s favorite Kevin Costner films.

  Everything was dark. The parking lot streetlights had burned out a long time ago. Micah parked toward the very back where a sea of grass met concrete. He shut off the car and lifted the soda bottle to his lips.

  “So…” He rubbed his hands on his thighs.

  “So,” I echoed. I was doing everything I could to keep myself in check. Why was I so nervous? Ugh. Calm down, Charlie.

  “So, if we’re going to be friends, we should get to know each other,” Micah suggested. “What makes Charlie tick?”

  “What do you want to know?” I asked, unsure. I hated talking about myself.

  “Uh….” Micah shrugged. “I don’t know. What’s your favorite thing to eat?”

  “Ice cream,” I said, unable to resist smiling.

  “What a copout—ice cream. Who doesn’t enjoy ice cream?” Micah chuckled and rolled his eyes.

  “Some people don’t like ice cream,” I argued, but he shook his head.

  “Who? Can you name at least five people? I bet you can’t.”

  I wasn’t even going to argue. He was right; I couldn’t name one, let alone five. “Okay, okay. I love Stove Top stuffing. I could eat that stuff all the time.” I chuckled.

  “I like pizza.” He took another sip of soda.

  “And you made fun of me for liking ice cream?” I raised my eyebrows as I lifted my slushy to my lips. Micah watched me with a broad smile.

  “I guess you could have said what kind of ice cream.”

  “Mint chocolate chip and teaberry,” I supplied at once.

  “And I like everything pizza. I don’t care what’s
on it. I’ll eat it.”

  “Be careful who you say that to.” I giggled. “You might end up with some disgusting concoction. The possibilities are endless: Mac and Cheese with sardines; pickled eggs and sauerkraut; tuna with tartar sauce.”

  “All of those sound gross,” Micah laughed. Another Bryan Adams song started to play, and I gestured to the radio.

  “I had no idea you were into Bryan Adams. I mean, this is from 1991.”

  I grew up with the songs of the ’80s. Mom almost always played Bonnie Tyler and Meatloaf on her record player while we dusted the living room on Saturday. One of my all-time favorite albums of hers while cleaning included Nino de Angelo’s “Jenseits von Eden” and Queen’s “Radio Gaga.” My parents had met while my dad was stationed in Germany; his favorite song to listen to was “99 Luftballons” by Nena.

  “It takes a special kind of man to enjoy Bryan Adams.” Micah winked at me. “He’s an amazing singer. I could listen to him, The Cars, Elvis, and Don Henley for hours.”

  I couldn’t stop the corners of my lips curling into a small smile.

  “You really don’t seem the soft rock type, Micah,” I murmured as I took another sip of my slushy.

  “I’m full of surprises I guess,” he said with a smirk.

  “I doubt that,” I scoffed with a laugh.

  “Try me,” he replied as his eyebrow rose with amusement.

  “What’s your favorite holiday?” I asked, unbuckling my seatbelt and pressing my back against the door. Micah lowered the windows then turned the car off. He echoed my movements, positioning himself to face me.

  “Favorite holiday, hmmm...” He scratched his chin. “I guess it’s a tie between Halloween and my birthday. Everyone enjoys celebrating a day dedicated to themselves.”

  “You would,” I teased him. He grabbed a nearby balled up receipt and chucked it at me.

  “What about you, Charlie? What’s your favorite holiday? If you say either one of mine, I’ll know you’re just a copycat.”

  “Actually, I love Christmas.”

  “You and half the world.”

  “Hey! It’s a fun holiday. Presents, Christmas trees, music, and food! You can’t go wrong with a holiday centered around those things.”

  “It’s actually Jesus’s birthday, Charlie. Hate to break it to you.” Micah laughed. “You’re celebrating it wrong.”

  “I think I love it so much because of the memories I have associated with it. When I imagine Christmas, or hear holiday music, I think of Germany. Everything there appeared almost magical to me. I can still remember the twinkling Christmas lights in this huge department store. They would set up all these Christmas trees all around the store, and you could take ornaments right off the branches. There were little wooden signs above the doors of the shops that must have been there for hundreds of years. And the scent of pine saturated the air, even when it snowed.”

  “How old were you when you left?” Micah asked, tilting his chin curiously.

  “I think I was like three or four,” I replied, squinting as I thought about it.

  “And you still remember that?”

  “Bits and pieces. There’s one ice cream parlor I recall vividly. My mom took me there a few times. Each time we visited, an aroma of freshly baked cupcakes would waft through the air. I’m pretty sure it was the waffle cones we smelled. Sometimes, when I’m standing outside waiting for the bus in the mornings, I catch a whiff of those waffle cones from the ice cream parlor. Mom says it’s the Kellogg’s factory, but to me, it’s Germany.”

  “That’s kind of a weird comparison,” Micah chuckled and shrugged.

  I chucked the receipt back at him with a laugh of my own. Micah paused and stared at me for a moment. His eyes reminded me of warm, melted chocolate. My hands suddenly became sweaty and I didn’t know what to do. I was certain there were nervous butterflies in my stomach, flying around. Awkwardly, I took another sip of my almost-gone slushy and pulled my phone out of my pocket. We had already killed forty-five minutes.

  “You’re actually really…” Micah started as he leaned closer. His voice was molten lava. “You’re really…”

  I could almost imagine what he’d say next. Hot? Amazing? There was a small smile growing on his lips. My eyes dropped to stare at his lips. Was he going to try to…kiss me? Just as my gaze fluttered back to his, Micah stopped. There was a change in his expression. The smile slowly vanished and he eased away. As if he were dashing his thought away, he turned and began to play with the knobs on his stereo system.

  “You’re really close to your curfew. I guess I should get you back home, huh?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I agreed hesitantly and buckled my seatbelt again. I wondered what caused him to pull away. What would he have said to me if he kept going? This was starting to feel more and more like a date with each passing second. I darted a sideways glance at him, but he was concentrating on starting the car and getting out of the parking lot.

  “We’ll have to do this again, when you have more time… The sky is so clear here; the stars are really easy to see. It might even be an excellent place to film something for our movie, too.”

  “Yeah, good,” I said. A few minutes later, Micah pulled into my driveway and put the car in park.

  “I guess I’ll see you in school tomorrow?”

  My heart was beating hard. I was sure he could hear it.

  “Have a good night,” he offered and bent forward across me to unlock my door. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until he leaned back. His dark stare never left mine as I lifted my hand to the door.

  “Bye, Micah.” My fingers searched for the handle until I found it and escaped into the cool night air. I closed the car door and didn’t look back at him. I could feel his eyes following me the whole time I walked to the front door. Relief only came once I slipped inside. I counted to five to give Micah time to pull out of the driveway, and flicked the outside light off. With a heavy sigh, I trudged up the stairs and walked to my room.

  “Did you have fun?” Mom called after me.

  Fun? Yeah, I guess. “Yeah!” I shouted over my shoulder as I shoved open my door. Safety. Just as I crawled back into bed, I noticed I had a text.

  MICAH: U left ur slushy in my car

  MICAH: I tried it and…

  I grinned and tapped a response back.

  CHARLIE: …And?

  MICAH: U were right.

  “Joy”

  Ellie Goulding

  IT WAS A LITTLE AWKWARD that morning, climbing onto the bus and seeing his face, the same face that had looked at me so nervously the night before. But as soon as I sat down beside him, Micah grinned and offered his earbud to me.

  “More Bryan Adams?” I asked.

  “Guess you’ll just have to listen.”

  I put the earbud into place and waited as he turned on his phone. I recognized the melody as soon as it started.

  “You like David Bowie?” I asked, taking the device out of his hand. I recognized the song from the movie Labyrinth. I didn’t know a single girl who has never heard “As The World Falls Down.” All of us at one point had dreamed of dancing with the Goblin King.

  “Hell, who doesn’t?” Micah asked.

  Somewhere between the stressful jumble of creating our movie for the English project, our argument, and the unusual night before, I had grown to appreciate that Micah and I could still laugh and joke. As the bus pulled into the high school parking lot, I handed him back his earpiece.

  “You might just have to make me a mix of some of your music,” I suggested. “You know, educate me like you said you would last night.”

  “I could,” Micah considered. “Once you hear everything of mine, you’ll have to make me a CD of yours. I might like it. Maybe.” His last word came out like a tease. Cocky. I smirked, though.

  We reached first per
iod together, only to be bombarded by Samantha Walters and her posse. She adjusted the books in her arms and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder with a bored expression.

  “So, I wanted to ask you both,” she began, popping a bubble of gum between her front teeth.

  “I’m having a study session at my house for the entire English class. Maybe we can bounce ideas off of each other for our screenplays? We’re doing Wuthering Heights.”

  Micah glanced at me to gauge my reaction, but I didn’t have one. Samantha snapped her gum again with a smug grin. I could tell she was just devouring the sight of the two of us together.

  “That’s fine, I guess,” Micah told her. “We’d appreciate the added help.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” Samantha said, her best fake smile plastered on her face. “You’re so smart and creative. I bet you’ll have the best ideas there.” I watched as she winked at him and bit her bottom lip lightly, but enough to be suggestive. I wanted to gag.

  “Yeah…” Micah cleared his throat and shifted his bag onto his other shoulder. “All right. What time should we be there?”

  Samantha lifted her arm to glance at her watch. If she could see past her nose, she’d see the clock on the wall. “We’re all meeting around seven. Charlie, you know where I live.”

  She brushed her hand against Micah’s shoulder as she started to walk toward her desk.

  “See you there, Micah.”

  Ugh! I didn’t bother to respond to her, and I certainly didn’t wait to see Micah’s reaction. I pushed past the both of them to get to my desk.

  Was Micah into girls like that? What sort of girls did he like in Georgia? Was he attracted to Samantha? As I cast a sidelong glance at Micah, I knew no matter how much I didn’t want to like him...it was becoming more obvious that I did. Didn’t I? I felt uneasy about going over to her house. What if they hooked up in front of me?

  “You okay?” Micah asked, jolting me from my thoughts as he touched my elbow briefly. I sat down.