The Outsider

By; CompulsiveLiar

"My car is perfectly fine," I muttered, opening the passenger's side door and taking a seat inside. "I like my car."

"Yeah, well, that makes you the only one," Conor told me honestly, starting up the vehicle and turning his head around to make sure he had a clear shot backing out of the driveway.

"Your car sucks," Bailey said nonchalantly from the backseat.

I sighed, turning around in my seat so that I could just catch Bailey out of the corner of my eye. "Don't say 'sucks,' it isn't polite."

"You say it," she argued.

"You're eight years old," Conor interjected. "And just because Elaina does, doesn't mean you can." He switched the car from reverse to drive, and pulled off down the lane.

"Thank you," I said.

"...But yeah, she's a potty mouth. Don't turn out like your sister, okay?"

"Okay," Bailey agreed with an indifferent shrug, turning her head to look out the window.

I slapped Conor on the arm, earning a cheeky smirk in return. "You're an ass, you know that?"

"Stop being a potty mouth," Elaina commented, still sounding as bored as before. "My ears aren't your toilet."

Conor laughed. "Where'd she learn that?"

"Kids at school," she answered, ignoring the fact that he was speaking to me.

A smug look stained his flawless features, and I scoffed. Slumping in my seat, I crossed my arms over my chest and closed my eyes. Even my younger sister had turned on me; why was it me that they picked on? Not that I cared, I was merely annoyed with the two.

"Oh, come on," Conor said, rolling his eyes, "don't be like that."

"I'll be however I darn well please, thank you very much." I wrinkled my nose, opening one eye to peek at him. When I saw him looking back down at me, I put as much of a glare as I could muster into my one open eye, then closed it once again.

He sighed, knowing I was only kidding but deciding not to deal with me. "Fine, whatever." The charcoal-haired boy turned the corner of the street slowly, then picked up speed as we rode down an empty dirt road. "Mind if I turn on some music?"

I shrugged. "Don't care, as long as it isn't that screamy-crap. I hate that."

"I know," he said. He cast his eyes down to the stereo for a split second to turn on the radio. Instantly, some calming acoustic music droned through the speakers in the back seat; this was a pleasant surprise from what was normally playing in Conor's car. My eyes remained closed, but my crossed arms loosened and I subconsciously began to tap my foot to the melody.

"Get a new cd, or something?" I asked, opening my eyes fully as soon as the next song began.

"Yeah, I got it 'cause I figured you liked this kind of music."

I smirked. "You plan on me riding in your car a lot?"

He was silent for a minute before a tiny smile entangled itself upon his lips. "Enough for me to buy a cd for you."

A small laugh bubbled up from my throat. "Well, I like it. It's good."

"You're welcome," he offered, still smiling. He shot a look at me out of the corner of his eye. "You're worth at least $12.95."

"Feeling's mutual," I said. It was then that I unhooked my arms from themselves, setting them at my sides as my eyelids drooped closed.

It really was a shame that even that warm shower I took didn't wake me up; I was still fluttering on the brink of awake and... well, sleep. And the fact that I still had Conor's hoodie wasn't exactly helping matters, making me sleepier and sleepier by the second due to the soft interior and the intoxicating warmth that came from it.

The temperature outside was fifty degrees, so I felt bad that Conor would be left without a hoodie, anything to keep his bare arms from catching cold. But, he'd told me I could have it, so it was his own fault that he'd be freezing.

"Hey, Elaina," Conor said, shaking me awake for the second time that day, "wake up, we're at Bailey's game."

My eyes fluttered open, and the small crusty things that get in your eyes were stuck in the corners of mine. I quickly wiped them out, and looked over at Conor groggily. Not even realizing I had fallen asleep, I was quick to ask, "How long have I been out for?"

"Ten minutes," he laughed.

Staring at Conor, the right side of my mouth curled up into a sideways sort of smile. In return, he shot me a quick grin, though just as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. Before I knew it, he'd gotten out of the car and come around my side; the door was open, and he'd stuck his head inside. A smile was glued to his face, a different smile than the grin which had nearly instantly vanished just moments before.

"Ready to go, Princess?"

"Well, Jester, I actually feel like catching a few more z's before- hey! Cut it out!"

In less than a second, Conor had grabbed hold of me around the waist and began to pull me from the vehicle. "I know my car's nice," he said with heavy breaths, "but you don't have to sit in it all day long."

"That isn't even the point!" I shouted. "But, now that you've brought that up, I disagree! My car is fabulous, and... if you don't put me down this very second, so help me, I will..."

He laughed, closing the door to the car before setting me down on my feet. A short sigh escaped my lips as my feet touched the concrete of the parking lot. I looked up at him, and couldn't help but smile back at the same grin that greeted me whenever I was around him.

"What were you going to do?" he smirked, taking my hand and leading me toward the soccer field. "Were you going to freeze me to death?"

I pouted, a smile shining through the faux-sourness. "No, you ass. I was going to bite your ear off. You know, like Mike Tyson." I made an obnoxious biting sound with my jaw, clamping my teeth down on each other to make a loud chomping noise.

Connor shook his head, running his hand through his charcoal hair. "Okay," he said, ignoring that last comment, "let's go watch Bailey's soccer game. That alright with you?"

Shrugging, I decided our joking was over. "Sure. I mean, what else is there to do here? Besides sleep in the car, of course."

"Of course," he smiled, glancing up at the field. "The game's about to start."

His observation triggered one of my own, and I turned my gaze up at the grassy area as well. "I know," I sighed, giving his hand- the one locked securely around mine- a light squeeze. "Might as well, then."

The grass was wet, dampening the bottoms of my pants as Conor and I walked hand-in-hand toward the field's bleachers. My ankles were soon becoming icier and more frozen due to the wetness around them, and a shiver went up my spine. Glancing up at Conor, I knew that he had noticed my small motion.

"You can't still be cold," he said in disbelief.

"No, I'm not," I assured him, "just my ankles. My pants are getting all wet, and the cold air is making the water cold on the bottoms of my pants, and so they're starting to get cold. That's all."

He smiled, holding back a laugh that he knew would have set my nerves on fire. He controlled his impulses, though, and for that I was the slightest bit greatful. I leaned my head nonchalantly on his shoulder for a moment, and felt a sigh rush through his body. He patted my head with his unoccupied hand and smiled lightly.

"Hot chocolate sounds really good right now," I told him as we took our seats. "Or anything super hot, really."

He shrugged. "Maybe we'll go get hot chocolate or something after the game. Want to?"

"Yeah," I said, then let out one loud laugh. "Wow, Jason's gonna be pissed."

"I know," he agreed, laughing as well. "But, you know, it is his fault that he slept in."

A smile was now glued to my lips. No matter how crummy the weather, how cold it was and how much I longed for something heated, I had Conor. He always found a way of keeping my spirits bright, to keep me happy.

And to keep my left hand warm.

"My team sucks," Bailey muttered, pulling her hair up into an unintentional messy ponytail. "I hate them."

"Don't say that," I chastized, opening up the door to Conor's car for her, simultaneously opening my own. "Just because your team only scored two goals-"

"The other team scored six," she whined.

"-doesn't mean they should be hated." I finished my sentence despite being cut off by the sour eight-year-old. "And, besides, be happy that you made one of those goals. That's a pretty cool thing, don't you think?"

"I think so," Conor said, adding his input.

Smiling at the boy, I turned my grin to face Bailey. "See? Conor thinks it's cool."

"Conor's a loser, though," Bailey sighed, leaning up against the side of the car with a frown plastered on her lips. "So that doesn't really help the situation."

Glancing over at him as he revved the engine, I observed that his lips had formed a tight line and his eyebrows had furrowed; this had obviously bothered him, knowing that even a little eight year old had called him a loser.

"He isn't a loser," I snapped, "he's just popularity-challenged."

"Same, difference."

He got an angry look on his face. "You guys are so mean."

"Karma's a bi-"

"Come on, Elaina, let's not start that up again," Bailey said calmly. She said it as if that were something she told me on a regular basis, something that was completely normal. No matter how much it bothered me that an eight-year-old was bossing me around, I just didn't want to deal with her sass; when Bailey got in this type of mood that made you want to rip your hair out, you very nearly do... That is, unless you decide to end it first.

Works for me, anyway.

"So," Conor said finally, breaking the thin sheet of ice, "how about some hot chocolate?"

"Oh yeah," I moaned, "I am so up for that!"

"Not me," Bailey said, "I don't like chocolate."

I froze for a moment, then slowly turned around to look at the small blonde. "You don't like chocolate?" I shook my head in disbelief. "You just had chocolate for breakfast this morning! Remember, CocoaPuffs?"

"I don't like chocolate," she repeated.

"You do like chocolate," I corrected her.

"No I don't," she pressed.

"You do too!" I was now shouting, trying to explain to this girl that she had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. So much for that 'let it go' idea. Let that fly completely out the window.

I felt a hand on my arm; my eyes landed on Conor, whose hand was placed limply on the bare skin of my forearm. "Give it up, Elaina," he said, keeping his eyes on the road, "I'll make you some hot chocolate when we get home, if Bailey doesn't want any."

Turning back around in my seat, I felt like I was being reprimanded like a child; Conor had that effect on me at times, how he could tell me to do or not to do something- anything- and I would comply. Again, I just couldn't keep going if he wanted me to stop. So, instead, I let out a long sigh and turned on the radio, letting the calm music waft throughout the car and bring me down from my piping mood to one of pure serenity.

My toe was tapping along to the beat when Conor turned glanced over at me and said, "Hey, check out Bailey. She's out cold."

I glanced at the rear view mirror and noticed the sleeping form of none other than Bailey sprawled out on the backseat; mouth ajar and forehead pressed up against the window. A smile reached my eyes, and I looked away. She was such a little girl sometimes, it reminded me sort of how I used to be.

"She looks like you when you were a kid," Conor said. It was like he read my mind.

I smiled wholly now, rolling my eyes. "Was I always saying stuff that annoyed the hell out of you?"

"You were always sleeping," he said, ignoring me. "And you said stuff that made you think you were wrong. All the time."

"Sorry," I apologized. "Sorry that you were wrong all the time!"

He made a face at me, then turned his eyes back onto the road. "You were wrong a lot of the time, too, you know. Like that one time you told me it was okay to moon the cars when the passed by my house. Do you even remember how mad my mom got?"

"She has a sailor's mouth when she wants to," I commented slyly. "I learned from the best."

Conor shook his head. "She gave me the worst time with those... what were they called? 'Spankings'?"

"Yeah, you're right, it's called a 'spanking'."

"Oh, man, those are the pits." He smiled, then brushed the hair from his eyes.

"Your fault you believed me. I was only kidding with you that time; didn't think you'd actually believe me. I mean, who in their right minds would think it was okay to moon someone in public?"

"I was seven, Elaina."

I shrugged. "Even so, you were still a goon."

He shuddered. "I hate that word."

"Goon," I repeated. "I like it, it has a nice ring to it."

Conor decided to ignore that, keeping his eyes on the road instead. He was rather good at ignoring me when he wanted to be. I just stared at him until he took notice; I knew Conor couldn't ignore me for long, no matter how good at it he was.

"What?" he asked.

I didn't say anything, but rather opened my left palm and waited for him to place his neatly in mine. He smiled, of course, and complied. He always complied, even when my hands were cold. Let's face it, my hands are usually cold. And yet, it doesn't ever seem to phase him. It's like he doesn't care. He just smiles at me instead, and that's what I love about him.

Sometimes it's just the little things that set off a spark. Maybe it's a little more than just a little thing, when you think about it in retrospect. But at the time, I didn't think anything of it. I thought of Conor as my friend who always seemed to turn me a bit warmer whenever I was around him. Conor was my best friend, and he knew that. We both knew that. But what neither of us knew was that things were about to get serious as fast as they did. Things were about to get a bit more complicated than just a cup of hot chocolate and holding hands.

Yes, things were about to get tricky.