text: On Fridays nights, I-Nina Garcia-open a good book and eat junk food. My parents are usually on date nights, so I have the house all to myself. Sure, maybe it sounds pathetic, but this is how it's always been. It's how I reward myself at the end of a long week. Other kids go to parties, but I've never been a social butterfly. Making small talk with other people has never been my strong suit. This Friday night was like no other. I order pizza from a family-run business in town and open a bag of candy. Since it's August, I put on pajama shorts and a tank top and settled on the couch. Since classic books are rapidly going out of style, I decided to pick up A Tale of Two Cities from the library. "Well," I whisper quietly to myself. "You can't go wrong with a Dickens book." I open the book and start reading. It was the best of times it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom- The doorbell rings loudly, startling me. I frown and get up. The pizza shouldn't have been made so quickly, should it? Slowly, I open the door and freeze. James Abbot stands outside the door, his emerald green eyes wide with fear. In all our time living next door to each other, I've rarely spoken 5 words to James. What could possibly be of my concern, I think grudgingly to myself. "James?" I ask. "Is something wrong?" "Yeah," he chokes out. "I need you to come with me. Please, Nina." "Why?" I scowl. "Because I don't have a car," he explains hurriedly, looking behind him as if to make sure he isn't being followed. "But-" I start. "Please, Nina, I'll never ask you for everything else," he practically begs. I bite my lip as he runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "Fine," I sigh, giving in. "Let me get changed." "Can I wait inside?" he questions. I nod, opening the door wider. He stands in the foyer and I go to my room and put jean shorts and a tee-shirt on. "Okay, so where are we going?" I inquire when we're settled in my barely running 2004 Honda Accord. "Just drive," he says, irritated. I bristle. Why is he annoyed? I'm the one driving him around. I comply, starting the car and backing out of the driveway. We sit in awkward silence as I drive down the road. "Are you running from something?" I prod. "Family problems?" He doesn't respond. "I'm stopping the car right now if you don't tell me what's going on." "Were you seriously reading on a Friday night," he smirks. "Don't change the subject," I growl. "You took me away from a pretty good book, you owe me." "Okay, okay," he holds up his hands in mock surrender. "A couple of guys were chasing me out of Sandy Cohen's party." "What did you do?" I laugh. Sandy Cohen's the most popular senior, if you're in with her, you're on top of the social hierarchy for life. "Well, we were playing poker-" he starts nervously. "And you won?" I ask dryly. "Yeah," he says softly. "That's a big no-no for a junior, I guess. A nobody like me winning a poker game against three senior guys." "How did you get invited anyway?" I ask, bemused. "If you're as unpopular as me?" "Well, that was another subject up for debate," he admits. "In a way, I guess you could say I snuck in." "Oh, geez, James," I roll my eyes. "Sandy Cohen's house is like three blocks away, why didn't you go back to your house?" "They weren't far behind," he shrugs. "Thought you were my best bet." "How long am I driving you around?" I ask. "A couple of hours, maybe?" he replies sheepishly. "I'm hoping they'll get too drunk to function." "Maybe," I nod. I make a left. "Well, let's make this night interesting, shall we?" "What do you mean?" "Don't worry about it." "Shouldn't I be the spontaneous one?" "No, I read more books, so I've got a few surprises up my sleeve." "Right, can I change the station?." "Nope." I turn to him and grin, he smiles back. We drive for another five minutes until I park my car at the beach." "Ah, not a bad choice, Garcia," he nods approvingly. "We're just in time for the sunset." He's right, when we step out of the car, the sun is above the ocean. I run onto the beach and sit in the sand. The sky is bursting with pinks, reds, and oranges. There has never been a prettier sight. James sits beside me. I close my eyes, breathing in the salty, sea air and listening to the crashing waves. It's a sound that I could fall asleep to, no matter what. "You look so peaceful," his voice breaks me out of my thoughts. I open my eyes and laugh. "This is the only place where I feel peaceful," I respond. "Yeah?" he raises an eyebrow. "I haven't been here since I was a kid." "No kidding," I smirk. I shiver as it grows colder. "Here," he hands me his hoodie. I look at it uncertainly. "It's washed . And I wore deodorant today, Garcia." I take it and put it on. There's a faint smell of pine and vanilla. It smells like something to come home to. "Thanks, James," I say softly, my voice almost drowned out by the ocean. "Anytime," he says. "You feel relaxed?" "What?" "You said I was relaxed. So....are you?" "In what perspective are you asking?" "Answer the question." He leans back on his hands for a second, staring out at the view. The sun is almost gone. He looks at me for a moment. "Yeah," he nods. "I suppose so." "Good," I respond. "Good," he repeats. We sit there, not speaking. The sun disappears. For the next few hours, we talk about school and where we want to go to college. He tells me his favorite color is orange, and I tell him my favorite food is pizza. "Well," I check my watch. It's nearly 10. I hold my hand out to him. "I think the seniors are probably drunk enough." "Probably," he agrees, placing his hand in mine. And there it is, a spark that makes me want to yank my hand away. I haul him up, and he doesn't let go of my hand. I clear my throat, and he drops my hand quickly. "Come on," I say, starting to my car. He follows behind me. "Thank you," he says once we're inside. I put the key in the ignition and nod. Then, I realize it's dark, and he can't see me. "A-anytime," I stammer, wondering why I'm so nervous. I grip the steering wheel, white-knuckling it. "You alright there, Garcia?" James puts a hand on my shoulder. "Yup," I say, driving us to his house. In no time, I drop him off at his house. "Well, don't get into trouble." "Thanks again, Nina, you're the best," he unbuckles his seatbelt. "Do you want your hoodie back?" I ask, starting to take it off." "Keep it," he says. "It looks better on you than me." He hops out, freezing as his hand reaches to close the door. "What is it?" "Nothing." "Okay, well, goodnight then, James." "Goodnight, madam." "Seriously, go to bed." "It's not even midnight yet." "Don't stall. Goodbye, James." He smiles, shaking his head. His hair flies around in a bunch of different directions. He shuts the door and jogs to the door. Before he steps inside, James Abbot salutes me. I grin and laugh, shaking my head. I park in the driveway and unlock the door to my house. I settle back on the couch and open my book. Sure, I didn't expect tonight to be like this. I didn't expect to spend half of my Friday night with a boy I barely talk to. Yet, there's nothing I would change, except the fact that I didn't get to eat my pizza.