Page 33 of Lost
The weather outside was unseasonably warm and inside the car was stiflingly hot, but Zack’s air conditioning made sure they were comfortable within a matter of seconds. Lysander buckled his seatbelt and leaned back, watching as his father reversed effortlessly out of the driveway, jade eyes covered by the same dark sunglasses he’d worn the day they’d met. The silence between them was filled by the music pouring from the car’s stereo system, and Lysander found himself nodding along out of habit.
Zack was quick to notice. “You like the song?”
Lysander listened. He didn’t know it, but he was certain he’d heard the voice before. It wasn’t Pat’s — of that he was positive. He tried to follow the lyrics, listening as the man sung something about the end of the world. It wasn’t all that bad a song, he decided. Dakota would love it, if she didn’t already.
“It’s all right,” he said at last. “The guy has an interesting voice.”
“Adam Dunlevey,” Zack said, nodding with approval. “His band and mine are going to be collaborating. This is something off his band’s next album.” Shooting him a grin, Zack added, “Consider yourself lucky. Not many people have heard this yet.”
Lysander smiled, but he really didn’t care. This would have meant a lot to Dakota, much more than it ever would for him, but he had to give Zack credit for trying. He was making an effort to further their relationship when he could just as easily have left it as it was, and that meant more than any amount of unreleased songs ever could.
Not even five minutes into their drive, Zack was turning on to Main Street and closing in on the high school. Lysander peered out through the tinted windows, taking in the sight of students making their way up towards the building. With a sigh, he pulled his bag to himself and prepared to depart.
Zack pulled up a little way away from the school, looking uncertain.
“This isn’t too close, is it?”
It took a moment for Lysander to work out what his father was referring to, but when it hit him he had to laugh. It was an action that clearly caught Zack off guard.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Did you really have a problem with that back in your day?” Lysander chuckled. “Tons of parents drop their kids off at school. It’s not a big deal.”
Zack grinned sheepishly. “I always hated having my parents drop me off. They’d do it whenever I was grounded, and they’d stop right in front of the main doors where everybody could see.”
“I’ll bet you looked just like that when they did it to you, too,” he said with a snicker, pushing open the door and climbing out. “Shouldn’t have gotten into trouble in the first place. Would have saved you a lot of suffering.”
“Ah, shut up, you.”
They grinned at each other, Lysander securing his bag to his back in the process.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “Have fun at practice.”
“Have fun in class!”
Zack laughed at the disgusted look that was sent his way and Lysander swung the door shut. Lysander threw one last wave over his shoulder as Zack pulled away and headed off to what Georgia would have referred to as work, but there was no way for him to know whether or not his father had even seen him — the windows were too dark on the outside for him to see through.
“Nice car, Maverick. Daddy’s got expensive tastes, doesn’t he?”
Lysander turned.
The boy stood only a few feet away from him, dark eyes focused. It took a moment for Lysander to place where he knew the boy from, caught up in his happy little moment as he was. This was one of Jack’s bullies. More than that, it was the one that Lysander had mentally declared the leader of the little posse.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” the boy went on before Lysander had a chance to say anything. “I’m Ethan Masters.”
“I know. We’ve been classmates long enough. I’m Lysander Maverick, in case you didn’t know.” Masters definitely knew, but the dig felt warranted. “Can I help you with something?”
“Nope.” Masters shrugged casually, looking bored. “Just wanted to say you have a nice car.”
He waited for the other shoe to drop — for Masters to spit on his shoes, or tell him that only faggots drove BMWs. But nothing came.
“Well, thanks,” Lysander replied, forcing a smile onto his face. “I guess I’ll see you around, Masters.”
He didn’t know what response he had expected to gain from this, but it hadn’t been for his classmate to give him a polite nod of farewell.
Lysander relaxed, almost ashamed of himself. There had been no need to worry after all. Ethan Masters had only wanted to be polite, but his mind had jumped to the worst conclusions. Since when was he the kind of guy who didn’t give people a second chance? He felt terrible about it.
At least, he did until the boy’s foot came out into his path and a well-placed knock to the shoulder sent him tumbling to the ground.
