"So this is what you get paid to do?" Rave picks up a stack of vinyls and starts sorting through them as I watch from where I'm sitting on the floor, a stack of CD's and vinyl albums surrounding me. 

"This is what I get paid to do." I continue to sort through the newest shipment of music as Rave walks around looking at all the different albums and equipment. He trails his fingers over the titles on the shelf and every so often he'll pull one out and examine it before sliding it back in its place. 

 It's been a few weeks since Rave gave me that first ride to the station, and ever since then he's been my ride at least twice a week. We don't really talk at school, partly because we have no classes together and have different groups of friends, and partly because I think we both like that this budding friendship is our own little secret. I know that rumors surround Rave and the people he associates with, and I'm not ready to have my name dragged through the halls yet. 

We have exchanged numbers though and I guess you could say that we text a lot. When one of us falls asleep during a conversation at night, it picks right back up in the morning and usually continues all day. Surprisingly, we have a lot in common and the conversation flows easily. 

After the first week or two, I had gotten over the fact that he's Rave Matthews - the school's hottest guy and baddest boy. I'm starting to think the whole bad boy thing is just another rumor. 

"How'd you get into music?" He asks as he takes a seat on the couch behind me, stretching out his legs and resting his head right next to mine. 

"My dad loved it, he was in a band in high school and college, then he studied music and eventually taught about it at the University." I could feel Rave's breath on the back of my neck as he looked over my shoulder at the stacks of music scattered around the floor. I could also feel the heat creeping into my cheeks, as he reached around and pulled my hair back so that he could get a better look at what was in my hand. 

"Are you blushing, Kylie?" He laughed - not in a way that was trying to embarrass me, but in a way that almost sounded like he was flirting with me.

----------------------------

"You did not." Whitley says in disbelief when I tell her and Erin about my encounter with Rave this afternoon. 

"I did." 

"But why would you be so cold to him? He's finally talking to you again." 

"Because, Whit, he can't just pick and choose when he wants to be friends and talk to her, she's not a toy." Erin says, repeating my thoughts from earlier. 

I look at Whitley, and point at Erin, "What she said." 

"Okay, I get that. I just thought you'd be excited to talk to him again." She takes a seat beside Erin on the bed and I stay seated on the chair in the corner of Erin's room. 

"I was, but I'm also mad at him, and I'm not going to forgive him that easily." Both of my friends nodded their heads in understanding, and I'm glad that my words finally sounded convincing to them - hopefully I can stick to my word. 

We move on to a new topic and Erin's mom shouts up the stairs to ask if we're staying for dinner, Whit and I take that as our cue to leave. Erin's mom is a stay at home mom now since she had the twins two years ago, but before that she was a workaholic. Mrs. White hates not having a project or hobby, so her current obsession is cooking - which she's not doing very well at. 

Whitley and I say goodbye to Erin, who gives us a look of betrayal, and wave to the rest of her family as we walk towards our separate cars and head to our own homes for dinner. At Whitley's house, her grandma cooks a home cooked meal every night, which is absolutely delicious no matter what it is or how odd the name of the meal sounds. 

At my house however, it's just me and my mom, so sometimes there's a home cooked meal, but usually it's a grab what you can find type of thing. Mom and I make it a point to eat breakfast together every morning, and to have dinner together at least once a week. She works in the Emergency Room at the hospital though, so with her work hours and my school hours, we don't see much of each other. 

Once my dad died, my mom and I became a lot closer, but she got even closer with work. It was like she was obsessed with saving and helping others, since she could't help her husband. She took on extra shifts at first as a way to avoid being at home in the house they built and lived in together for so many years, then after a while work became her home. She didn't forget about me, we text and call each other every day, and if I ever need her she comes right away. 

I don't blame my mom for diving into work as a way to cope or heal. I did the same thing with the radio station. I feel closer to my dad when I'm there, surrounded by the things he loved, learning about the things he was so passionate about. 

My house is usually empty due to the fact that both me and my mom are away, avoiding the memories of a home that no longer feels complete. It's mostly a place where we come to sleep and shower, then leave again. There's never really any food in the fridge or cabinets, a house keeper comes once a week to clean but there's never really anything out of place for her to tidy up, and the walls are bare since mom took down all of our family photos days after the accident.

"What, no embarrassing baby pictures of you on the walls?" Rave's hand is in mine as I give him a tour of my house. His palm is warm and my fingers fit perfectly between his. When he first reached for my hand outside, I'm sure my face had never been more red. He had given me a smirk and commented on my blushing again before leading me towards my front door.

No one has been in my house in almost two years, Whit and Erin don't even come over anymore, instead we spend all of our time at their houses. Back when my dad was around though, my house was the place to be. He always made us the best snacks, let us play music so loud the neighbors would complain, and he'd gossip with us about anyone and everything. He was the cool dad, and everyone loved him. 

"Uh, no. Not on the walls at least." I pull Rave along, showing him room after room before we finally reach my bedroom at the end of the hall. 

When we step into my room, I'm suddenly self conscious of what he will think about all the posters on my wall and the Christmas lights draped over my headboard and closet door - which seem a little childish now. I watch as he releases my hand and starts to walk around, observing my belongings and decor. He doesn't seem to be judging, but I'm a firm believer that your bedroom says a lot about who you are. A bedroom is like your sanctuary, a place you can go to escape everything else - and mine is four grey walls covered in posters of bands and artists, a bookshelf full of novels and records, white Christmas lights, and a vanity full of makeup. 

"This is a cool room." 

"It's alright."  I'm still standing in the doorway, trying to process the fact that Rave is in my house - in my bedroom.

"I like the Christmas lights." He flops down on my queen sized bed, patting the spot beside him as he looks up at my ceiling fan. 

He doesn't take his eyes off the fan, but when I gently lay down beside him, careful to leave space between us, he puts his arm around me and pulls me to his side. "I can't see you, but I know you're blushing, Ky." 

I surprise us both when I turn and bury my head into his chest from embarrassment, but only a second passes before I hear him chuckle and wrap his arm around me.

-----------------------------

Mom got home late last night from work, so I was already asleep when she came in. This morning though, when I came out of my room dressed and ready for school, I smelt pancakes. 

When I entered the kitchen she was wearing a pair of leggings and an old t shirt, it was odd to see her in something other than her scrubs, but I liked it. It made her seem more like the way she was before - dressed down and making breakfast while watching the news on the small television sitting on the counter.

"Smells good." I take the milk out of the fridge and pour myself a glass before taking a seat on one of the bar stools at the island.

"They're chocolate chip." I watch as she scoops up the last pancake and sits it on top of the stack. She picks up both plates and walks over to the island where I am and places one in front of me before taking a seat across from me with her own breakfast. 

"So how was your first day?" I'd texted her yesterday after school and told her a little about my classes and teachers, but I'd left out the encounter with Rave. My mom knew that Rave and I had become friends last year, only because she came home one day and found him lounging on our couch while I took a shower. That was the only time they met - the friendship ended soon after - but she adored him, she thought he was handsome, polite, and sweet. Which he was...is...I don't know. 

"It was great, I really like my classes and the office aide thing is kind of fun." I decide to not tell her about talking to Rave, even though I tell my mom everything, this isn't something I want to talk about. I'd rather just forget the whole thing even happened, he's with Lexy and that isn't going to change. 

"Are Whit and Erin in any of your classes?"

"Erin is in my first period and Whit is in my second." I cut into my pancakes as my mom nods and starts asking more questions about what I'm going to be studying in my classes this year, and how my friends are.

As we're clearing the table, my phone starts to ring from where it's sitting on the counter. My mom picks it up and tosses it towards me, "Little early for Erin to be awake isn't it?"

School starts in a little less than an hour, but my mom knows how Erin is about sleeping in and being late. "She's trying to do better this year." I say as I slide my finger across the screen to accept Erin's call.

My mom gives a little laugh, one that says she doesn't think Erin's efforts will last long, and then turns to start washing the dishes. 

"Hello?"

"Ky, have you been on any form of social media this morning?" It sounds like Erin is in the middle of brushing her teeth, but I choose to not question her and instead answer her question.

"No, why? Did something happen?"

"Just open Facebook or something. You'll know it when you see it."

"Can't you just tell me?" I groan, not in the mood for Erin's theatrics this morning.

"Nope. Can't talk, got to get ready so I'm not late." With that, she ended the call and I rolled my eyes before hugging my mom goodbye and grabbing my backpack and car keys from the bench by the front door. 

"Don't forget that I work tonight and won't be home until tomorrow afternoon!" I hear her call after me as I close the door behind me. 

As I walk to my car, I open Facebook like Erin instructed. I scroll past pictures from the first day, status' about how sad people are summer is over, and then I see it. 

I almost drop my car keys as I bring my hand to my mouth. I don't know how to feel about this, am I happy or am I neutral? It's not like this means anything, right? It has nothing to do with me, it can't. 

I stare at the screen a few seconds longer until a dog barks from one of my neighbors backyards and the sound pulls me out of my trance. 

Lexy Jordan is single.