Page 28 of Drive

“I hit a pot when I was a toddler, too, but I was good at it.” He stepped off the sidewalk, and I was too immersed in him, fixated on his story, and stumbled off. His arms shot out to steady me as I was about to take a good bite of the pavement.

“Thanks.”

He winced as he withdrew and gripped his cast with his palm.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“I’m still sore from dragging your drunk ass to the cab on your birthday. You’re like Bambi on new legs, drunk or sober. Next time I let you fall.”

“My grudge-filled hero,” I sighed after him, stepping double time to keep up with his pace.

And even though the dark street recommended we remain eerily quiet, I couldn’t stop asking questions. “Who got you your first set of drums?”

“I played in school.”

“In band?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t picture that at all,” I said with a chuckle. “A band geek? Notyou,Reid Crowne.”

“Oh, yes,me. My parents couldn’t afford drums. It was the only way for me to learn and play.”

“I get it.”

“I fucking loved it. Marching, competing. All of it.”

“Okay,” I said, pulling out my peppermint lip gloss and smearing it on, “now you’re just screwing with me.”

His deadpan stare confirmed it. Reid was anything but social. I could only imagine how hard it was for him to partake in anything school related. In fact, it was probably a nightmare for him but a necessary sacrifice. As if reading my mind, he shrugged. “I got to practice as much as I wanted. I made nice with the director, Mr. Burris, so I was there every day after school until I got kicked out.”

“You know one of my heroes played in high school band and then ping-ponged around before he landed a gig playing back-up for Linda Ronstadt.”

“Some career,” he said with pressed brows, as if trying to understand my logic.

“I think so. He played with Glenn Frey until they both quit and decided to bet on themselves. They formed a little band called the Eagles.”

Reid paused and looked back at me.

“Yeah, Don Henley,” I said, satisfied. I loved the surprise in his eyes. “Just a guy from our great state who played football and trombone in a high school band that ended up writing some of the best songs in music. And thatvoice, don’t get me started.”

I rattled on with a little more bounce in my step. “That’s the thing about music: don’t take your back-up for granted. You could have Don fucking Henley playing for you.”

Reid paused his feet, his lips twisting in a small smile he was trying to hide.

I was too interested in the present to give him any more of a history lesson. “Wow, so you were a band geek. You’ll have to thank Mr. Burris when you get big.”

“You haven’t even heard me play,” he said as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jeans.

“I’ve heard your band. They wouldn’t keep you if you couldn’t play. I bet prom was hard on you.”

The brief flame highlighted his smug smile before he blew out a steady stream of smoke in my direction. “I screwed the prom queen in her little blue dress before the king picked her up.”

I stopped my feet and waved the stench away. “Okay, ew. And wow.”

“I got good at a lot of things in high school, little sister.” There was a split second ofsomethingin his eyes before it disappeared. “Mostly being high,” he admitted before he threw the cigarette he’d only taken a few drags of in the street and crushed it with his boot.

Aside from the occasional stray car, we were alone. And my mind was spinning with questions.