Shine On | Teen Ink

Shine On

November 20, 2013
By FilmEcho68 GOLD, Wentzville, Missouri
FilmEcho68 GOLD, Wentzville, Missouri
16 articles 1 photo 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
"When you want to succeed as bad as you want to breathe then you will be successful." -Unknown

Your icy blue eyes romp my mind. Burning with confidence, your eyes speak your emotions as they flow, effortless to read. They glance my way and our stares meet for a second, only having me look away with a smile, and red in my cheeks. Your tenor voice echos my laugh, amused at my nervous behavior. I look back, your face glowing with content and you glance down to see my smile as you mimic a cheesy grin.

“Have you heard this song?” You say through your smile. A new country song streams through the stereo, a new melody in low baritone hits my ears.

“No,” I reply simply, throwing back a smile. You toss your phone into my lap where I read Rascal Flatts before the screen goes black. “Are you going to sing this one for me too?” I ask before the vocals begin.

“I’ll try!” he yells, but that’s what he says every time. Try was never the right word as he seemed to match the vocals to every song perfectly, effortlessly rolling the lyrics off his tongue to every song he played off his phone. And in this case, it was no different than the last song, as his voice echoed the sweet song of a young love story.

Listening intently to the mid-range tone his voice rang, a wave swept me under where, I could only hear his voice, and Gary LeVox’s repetition in the low background. You glace to me every now and again, when the lyrics were meant for me and I sometimes would look back to meet your eyes. Other times I would purposely look back as you turn your head, so my eyes could not meet yours.

“Shine on, shine on, shine on me. Whenever something's missing you're exactly what I need. Your love has shown me the light and now I finally see, so shine on, shine on, shine on me, yeah,” you sang as the song finished. Your hand finds my left knee, and my face flushes. I smile inside as you cannot tell as your color blindness inhibits you to see red tones.

“That was definitely my favorite song you’ve showed me so far,” I smile.

“Really, why?” A question you ask often; I think for a second trying to pick the right way to phrase my emotions

“It’s probably the song that relates to us the most.” I look back at him and he nods, no further explanation is needed.

“My turn!” I yell excitedly. You laugh as I unplug the phone from the AUX plug, replacing it with mine. I chose a personal favorite, “Waiting for Superman" by Daughtry,” I say as I press play, “It’s one of their new songs.”

“I love Daughtry!” You say, and look from the road, back to me smiling.

The melody starts to ting over the speakers and my voice finds the vocals. Your hand finds mine, your other hand classically on top of the steering wheel.

“You get off pitch once, I’m letting go,” you joke and smile as I finish a line.

“So much pressure!” I laugh as there is a break in the vocals, but I quickly pick up as they start again.

I turn my head to the road as I focus on finding the right pitch. Trying to lose myself in the song, I can see him looking at me from my peripheral vision as we had hit a red light. His eyes are too hard not to notice and it shakes me off the right lyrics. He laughs and looks away as the light turns green.

“Am I distracting you?” He grins at the joke we throw around often. The song ends and he looks over at me where I wear a jokingly displeased face.

“You always do,” I reply trying hard not to smile, he only laughs and looks away.

The street lights dance by as we drive down the Troy Parkway. Red and yellows stream his face lighting up his narrow cheek bones and defined jaw line. His eyes dance a radiant blue as the lights flutter past, a dull ash color finding its way in when darkness masks his face. His thin lips hum to the next song being played but I draw no attention to the title. The sealed tight windows keep his lightly styled hair from being blown, as it curls perfectly in one section, mimicking a wave.

We pull into his sister’s cheer studio where she easily finds the car. Squeezing my hand he lets go and finds the wheel. We both exchange hellos with his sister and find our way back to the main street, about to make the twenty minute journey back to his house. I smile as he turns on another country song to start the drive back. As we get on the highway, we exchange smiles of simple contentedness, remarkably in awe of this feeling we have.

The author's comments:
A narrative about a person

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