Page 38 of Wallflower

"I am a hard person not to like," he said which startled a laugh out of me, making him grin. "I'm gifted like that."

"Or maybe, I got sick of hearing you drumming on your thighs," I retorted. "You put in those earbuds and just go to town. I'm surprised you don't have bruises."

Dare lifted a brow. "How would you know? Were you checking out my legs during practice the other day?"

I scoffed. "As if."

"That's not a no, flower."

Gah, why, oh why, did he have to be so perceptive?

"Enough," I said, trying to forget how fit Dare had looked yesterday in his workout shorts. "Turn the music on or don't. It's all good with me."

Dare nodded. "You do seem to be extra agreeable this morning," he said.

I played it off, lifting one shoulder. "I'm always agreeable."

"Not with me, you're not," he mumbled, but I caught it and almost smiled.

Dare leaned forward, hit the power button, and suddenly the car was filled with the sound of strings.

"What is this?" he asked after a moment.

"Ode to Joy," I said.

"It sounds like something they'd play at a funeral."

"Not a big fan of Beethoven I take it."

"I like dogs fine," Dare mused while I bit back a laugh. "But this song is such a downer. You seriously listen to this stuff?"

I nodded. "Strings are kind of my thing. Though I like all kinds of music, from classical to contemporary, bluegrass, rock, K-pop, rap."

"Youlisten to rap?" His tone was dubious.

"Yeah, when the mood strikes."

Dare gestured to the stereo. "Okay, rap I get. But tell me why you like this."

"I don't know," I said, a bit uncomfortable with the subject. "Music's a really personal thing. A lot of times when I listen to instrumental pieces, even though there aren't any words, I can just feel what the piece is trying to say. You know?"

Dare shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Just listen." I took one hand off the wheel and moved it as the music swelled. "Can't you hear that? It's not a funeral at all. It's…pure happiness, a rising tide, driving out all the darkness of the world. Ooh, here's where it really picks up."

Dare didn't say anything while I tried not to get too carried away, but it was hard. This song almost always made me cry for some reason. As the music built to its final peak and then ended on the resounding last note, I glanced over to find him watching me.

"The feeling," I mumbled, putting my hand back down, "it's triumphant. The song's all about joy and good overcoming evil."

"Got it," Dare said. "I can see why you like it now."

My turn to be dubious. "Really?" I asked.

He laughed then held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not saying I'm going to add it to my favorites playlist or anything, but it was pretty good."

Yes, I thought. Beethoven was only one of the best composers of all time,Ode to Joybeing one of his most well-known symphonies, a renowned achievement. Pretty good, indeed.

I sighed, accepting the fact that we may not have the same taste in music. But at least Dare seemed to be in high spirits. As I pulled into the DHS lot and parked, I hoped that boded well for what I had to ask him next.

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