Page 20 of What Are The Odds?
I shrugged. “Nicknames are a hockey thing.”
I started the car, waking the heater.
“How long between here and my dorm?” Grace checked.
“About ten minutes.”
Her eyes lit-up. “Do you have Spotify on your phone?”
When I nodded, she held out her hand. Sceptically, I reached into my back pocket before placing my phone in Grace’s palm.
“We should be able to get four songs in,” she said.
The phone light illuminated her excited blue eyes.
“What’s a song that always pumps you up? Not, like, gym pump up. But one that gets you out of a bad mood.”
“Um.” I thought for a beat. “Maybe–”
“No. Don’t tell me. Add it to the queue.”
I took the phone from her, searching the song and adding it to the queue. She snatched the phone back, lip pulled between her teeth once again as she searched for another song.
“Now add a song that reminds you of a good moment.”
That was easier. I knew just the song. Grace connected my phone to the Bluetooth then hit play on the first song. To no surprise, I didn’t recognise it. But I also didn’t hate it. It was called Booster Seat. Grace quietly sung along, moving her head from side to side. She was going to get a shock when my turn came around. The passing streetlights flickered in her wide eyes. She wasn’t lying about being into music. When my song blasted through the speakers, Grace wriggled excitedly.
“Great choice,” she said.
I arched an eyebrow. “You like Kendrick Lamar?”
“How could you not?”
Turns out Grace was a big fan. She knew every word, and she proved that by rapping every lyric to King Kunta. She didn’t miss a beat. By the time she was done, she was well and truly out of breath and my face ached from smiling so hard.
“That was fucking impressive,” I told her.
Laughing, she leant her head against the seat, eyes focussing on the road ahead. I was probably only two minutes from the dorms, so I took a quick detour. If Grace noticed, she didn’t say anything. The next song was another change of pace. General Motors by Verge Collection. Grace’s eyes glossed over as her mind drifted far away from here.
I cleared my throat. “What memory do you associate with this?”
“My parent’s funeral.”
Surprise overtook my expression. I hadn’t been expecting that. I thought we were choosing good memories. I had.
“We were back at my house for the wake. It was getting late, and I was exhausted from putting on a front and having people tell me how amazing my parents were.” She turned to face me, head lazily lolling to the side. “So my brothers and I did a runner. We nabbed three bottles of wine and took them down to the beach. We stayed there for hours. Talking. Drinking. And then sitting silently while we listened to music.” She smiled fondly. “This song was playing when the sun came up. And as much as the funeral had sucked, in that moment, with my brothers beside me, I knew we’d be okay.”
My detour was quicker than I planned. I pulled into the parking lot closest to the dorms. I should’ve done another lap. Shifting the car into park, I left it running.
“How did your parents die?”
“Car accident.”
I couldn’t fathom losing my parents. At the same time would be brutal, too. I was close to my sister, but things sure as hell would feel a lot lonelier if we didn’t have our parents around.
“You can relax, Holloway. This is a good memory for me. It reminds me of two of the best things in my life.”
I craned my head in question.
