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His story

Paloma Williams

A strange sort of silence hung between us save for the heavy blaring of loud music blasting from the radio, his fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly only releasing to tap to the beat which I found slightly irritated, as it only has seemed to aggravate the tension.

"You said we would talk." I say finally breaking the thick tension between us. "So talk."

"Hmm." He grunted and his hands gripped the steering wheel even tighter.

"Say something." I demand. "Or you can drop me off."

"No." He said begrudgingly. "I offered a ride, I'm not leaving you stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"Then talk to me." I say exparsated. "I don't need this gruff and silent shit, I have plenty of my own crap to figure out."

"Something's are better left unsaid." He said simply. "There are things you can't know, not yet."

"And yet here I am!" I groan annoyed. "In a car with you going to see my druggie fucked up mother, your fucking crap must be ten times worse I'm sure."

If he was affect
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