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           "It’sopen,"wasallheresponded.Hegotinthedriver’sside.

           "Iamperfectlycapableofdrivingmyselfhome!"Istoodbythecar,fuming.Itwasraininghardernow,andI’dneverputmyhoodup,somyhairwasdrippingdownmyback.

           Heloweredtheautomaticwindowandleanedtowardmeacrosstheseat."Getin,Bella."

           Ididn’tanswer.Iwasmentallycalculatingmychancesofreachingthetruckbeforehecouldcatchme.Ihadtoadmit,theyweren’tgood.

           "I’lljustdragyouback,"hethreatened,guessingmyplan.

           ItriedtomaintainwhatdignityIcouldasIgotintohiscar.Iwasn’tverysuccessful-Ilookedlikeahalf-drownedcatandmybootssqueaked.

           "Thisiscompletelyunnecessary,"Isaidstiffly.

           Hedidn’tanswer.Hefiddledwiththecontrols,turningtheheaterupandthemusicdown.Ashepulledoutoftheparkinglot,Iwaspreparingtogivehimthesilenttreatment-myfaceinfullpoutmode-butthenIrecognizedthemusicplaying,andmycuriositygotthebetterofmyintentions.

           "ClairdeLune?"Iasked,surprised.

           "YouknowDebussy?"Hesoundedsurprised,too.

           "Notwell,"Iadmitted."Mymotherplaysalotofclassicalmusicaroundthehouse-Ionlyknowmyfavorites."

           "It’soneofmyfavorites,too."Hestaredoutthroughtherain,lostinthought.

           Ilistenedtothemusic,relaxingagainstthelightgrayleatherseat.Itwasimpossiblenottorespondtothefamiliar,soothingmelody.Therainblurredeverythingoutsidethewindowintograyandgreensmudges.