#milamber

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. 

“The smile or being a douche?”

He rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it could have hurt.

“I smiled because you were funny,” he said, sounding like he was regretting the words as they came out of his mouth. Amber blinked at him.

“Can you say that again?” she asked. “I want to make note of the date and time when you finally admitted that you think I’m funny.”

He shifted into the middle lane without checking his mirrors and Amber frowned at him. “Fine,” she said, “but that moment will live in my heart forever as an instance of true friendship.”

“If you need it to,” he said. “I just meant, I’m glad you still have stuff you like.”

Amber looked at him quizzically. “What is that supposed to mean? Of course I like stuff. You like stuff. Everyone likes stuff. It’s… it’s stuff.”

“That book you got back in Oregon, what’s it called - ”

“In the Dark Places,” she said, holding it up.

“You’re smiling just saying the title,” he said. He shifted over one more lane, again without checking mirrors. “You can talk about that and it’s like nothing bad has ever happened to you in your life. I guess it’s a relief.”

“…Sure,” she said. She nodded, slowly. “It makes me happy. That’s… how you’re supposed to act when you’re happy. Like, cars make you happy, right?”

“Cars don’t make me talk really loudly and wave my arms around.”

“I’ve seen you in traffic.”

She swears, swears, that the edge of his mouth quirks up.

“Ha!” she said, pointing. “That was a smile for me, and you can’t deny it. I absolutely saw that.”

He shook his head slowly and changed the subject. “Roll down your window,” he said. “It reeks like cheap fries in here.”

Amber balled up the McDonalds bag beside her and dropped it by her feet before cranking the window down, letting the wind and the smell of rain fill the car.

“And, Amber…”

She looked up, surprised, and turned to Milo. “What’s up?”

He glanced at her. “Something that would make me really happy…”

“Yeah?”