TRACK #9 MUSIC:

🎵 "I Wanna Be With You" - Mandy Moore

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TRACK #9 - FALL

"I Wanna Be With You" - Mandy Moore

Friday had brought another Bears win against a tough opposing team. It was a close game, according to both Emma and Noah, who had bombarded me with messages over AIM when I awoke Saturday morning. Apparently, Elijah took a few beatings because he had to lay out for all of Brock's overthrown passes. If it wasn't for him and some amazing plays by our defense, the other team would have won. With the way they both talked about it, I felt like I missed out on a huge event. I mulled over going to more games as I made my way downstairs.

"Good morning!" My mom stood near the stove, flipping a batch of her famous chocolate chip pancakes. My father smiled while I shuffled into the kitchen to join them for breakfast. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and kissed my father on the head before sitting down next to him. "I meant to ask you, how did the recording session go?" my mom questioned.

"Good!" I could hear the excitement in my own tone. "I really like hanging out with them."

"Noah Walker aged quite well, don't you think? I'm surprised he's not the one taking you to a haunted house tonight." My mom's lips curved upwards as she dished out a few pancakes. What was with this family all being Team Noah?

"He asked," I admitted. "Well, not specifically to a haunted house, but he asked me to go out tonight. I felt bad turning him down. Hopefully he understands. I mean, we're friends."

"Hard to be friends with someone who looks at you the way he does," my father nonchalantly chimed in while he thumbed his newspaper. I was surprised both by his comment and by the fact that he was speaking to me in English. When it was just us in the house, he usually spoke his native Italian.

I scoffed. "He doesn't look at me in any kind of way," I dismissed the idea, although they both were laughing like there was a hilarious joke I just didn't get.

"I was a teenage boy once, remember?" My father eyed me over the top of his newspaper. The wrinkles at the corners of his tired eyes had etched themselves in more prominently as he thinned. His skin bore a light gray tint, though his signature smile shone through the haze.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.

A sigh crept from my father's lips before he folded his newspaper and set it aside. "Tired today, but the doctor's think the chemo is helping."

"That's good. Mrs. Walker said she saw you at the store and made a comment about your weight loss," I admitted softly. "I told her you were watching what you were eating, which is an awful half-truth, but I didn't know if I should tell anyone."

"Well, if she'd have asked me, I would have told her. You can never have too many voices talking to God on your behalf. You can do whatever you're comfortable with, Aria, but my illness isn't a secret," he explained. I nodded in reply.

We cleaned up breakfast and began our daily piano lessons. I was only handling the clients my mom wasn't able to fit into her schedule, plus Micah, who was officially my very first personal lesson. Brock was going to pick me up at 6:00, so I figured I had plenty of time to get ready after my last appointment. It was only when my final student showed up forty-five minutes late that I realized it was probably a bad idea to wait. I abruptly cut the lesson off at 5:30 and scrambled upstairs to shower.

I could only laugh about how different this was than the last time we went on a date while I pulled on a pair of light wash flares and a long-sleeved mustard yellow t-shirt. I braided my hair, figuring it would air dry, and began applying a little bit of makeup when there was a knock at the door. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as I heard my mom open it and let Brock in. I quickly laced up my black Doc Martens, threw on my black denim jacket, and searched for the plaid scarf that matched my shirt. Once I finally found it, I wrapped it around my neck and dashed down the stairs.

I found Brock lounging comfortably on the couch, his face turned while he laughed at something with my mom and father. He was trying to call Oliver over, seemingly to attempt a truce, but it didn't seem like Oliver was interested.

"I'm so sorry." I grabbed my clutch which was sitting on the counter top and took another glance at myself in the mirror. It certainly wasn't my best work, but it was going to have to do.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured me. "I was just attempting to bond with Oliver."

"Good luck with that," I smirked as I entered the foyer. "Apparently he has very particular taste in men." I cleared my throat and lowered my eyes before I'd have to explain the complete word vomit that just spewed from my mouth. Oops.

"Well, then," he said as he followed me. I could smell his musky cologne and immediately felt the desire to kiss him rise in my belly. I turned to look him up and down while he walked to meet me. He was wearing a red t-shirt that accented his complexion perfectly. His hair looked like it had just been washed and haphazardly dried. With his dark fitted jeans and black boots, he looked like a model. It was only when he lifted his chin and his face was fully illuminated by the hall light that I saw the bruise on his right cheek. I gasped before I could help myself, and his eyes widened in panic.

"Yeah," he answered quickly as he shifted nervously from foot to foot. "I was just telling your parents before you came down about how I got hurt at the football game last night."

"Football game..." I echoed his words while my feet seemed to root in their spot. My eyes searched his, but all I could see was a plea to change the subject. I was happy to oblige, it was just that my mouth didn't seem to want to cooperate.

"Don't you have a jacket?" my mom called after Brock, effectively snapping me back into reality. "It's going to be chilly this evening."

"It's in the car," he confirmed with a nod.

"Okay. No later than midnight, Aria. Brock says this place is a bit of a drive, so you get an extra hour before you're a pumpkin." I gave my mom a hug and silently thanked my lucky stars that I had such good parents, even with their lame jokes.

"Bye, Mr. and Mrs. G," Brock waved as he put his hand on my back to lead me out of the door.

"Brock–" I began while he guided me to the car.

"Don't," he interrupted me. "I have a great night planned for us, and I don't want it to ruin our time together by talking about something that is already over." His tone was final. He opened the car door for me, and I gave him a sorry excuse for a smile as I sat down in the passenger seat.

"Are you sure?" I hesitantly asked him once he got in the car as well.

"Yes. So, this place is about an hour away, but it's supposed to be so good," he started saying excitedly when he turned the key in the ignition. "Some of the guys went last weekend and talked about it all week at practice. I heard a lot of people are going to check it out. It's in an old abandoned insane asylum. Scared?" A smirk spread across his face as he looked at me. This was clearly the kind of thing he enjoyed. His enthusiasm melted my worry.

"No," I teased. "Ghosts aren't real."

"What?! You can't seriously believe that!" He began spouting off random facts about ghost sightings, electromagnetic fields, and thermometer readings. I could barely keep up. I just struggled to keep a straight face while I watched him talk about something in which he clearly had a strong interest.

"Fine, then maybe you'll make a believer out of me," I reasoned, still wearing an amused smile on my face.

"Stop it. I know you're making fun of me in your head," he laughed, shifting in his seat to find a comfortable position.

"Maybe a little, but you're super cute when you get all excited like that." I couldn't stop the words before they slipped out of my mouth. My comment widened his smile, and I was almost certain I could see a pink tint in his cheeks.

We drove for a few minutes, listening only to the sounds of the radio and the road. It wasn't much longer til we pulled off the main highway onto a long dirt road. We drove for a few miles while the sun began to make its way west.

"How do you even know where you're going?" I marveled at Brock's navigation. He wasn't using a map, directions from Mapquest, or a GPS. Lines of brightly colored trees passed in a blur as we continued down the path. "I would have been lost by now."

"I've been back here before, so I know where it is. I'm also a pretty good driver." His car was handling what felt like off-roading really well. I barely felt the large bumps that I was sure we were hitting. After a few minutes, a large dirt lot with cars parked all along it came into view. People were parking their cars and walking to a long line near a little house. There was no asylum in sight.

Brock and I exited the vehicle after we parked and walked towards the line. "What is this place?" I looked around, though my mind wandered to my hand dangling near his. He hadn't once tried to take it since we left. I wondered why he was being so coy when he had laid it on so thick during our first date.

"You actually have to wait for a bus to take you to the location." A grin spread across his face as we got in line. The chill in the air was thickening the more the sun continued to set. Pretty soon it would be dark. Brock slung his letterman jacket over his arm, not yet feeling the need to wear it. I couldn't believe he wasn't cold or that he couldn't hear the chattering of my teeth. The line moved quickly, and when it was finally our turn to pay, we had to also sign a waiver giving our consent to enter the asylum and to not touch any of the actors.

"This is kind of bizarre," I remarked, sliding into a seat on the bus to leave room for him. "We're on a school bus." I couldn't help but giggle as he sat next to me. I shivered slightly while I looked around the bus, spotting a crowd of students with familiar Bridgeview letterman jackets.

"You want this?" Brock held up his jacket, but I thought he'd need it, so I shook my head. "Here, we can share." He draped his jacket over the both of us and then reached his arm around me to pull me closer. "Scared yet?" He raised an eyebrow playfully.

"Intrigued," I admitted as I enjoyed his scent filling my nostrils. "Not scared." The bumpy ride on the school bus lasted what felt like ages, though I was enjoying my little cuddle session with Brock. Dusk turned to dark while we rode along another dirt path. It was several more minutes before a large, dilapidated building came into view. I wondered if it was even safe to enter. The bus let us all out, and we were led to another line. This one was a little longer. Great.

Brock finally put his jacket on, leaving me to shiver as the wind picked up. "Come here," he said, enveloping me in his arms while we inched in the line. I nuzzled my head into his chest, and he smiled down at me.

"This was a pretty good game plan," I laughed, clasping my hands behind his back. "Take a girl outside in the cold and make sure there is a line. You're sure to get cuddled."

He chuckled. "Oh, you know how smooth I am. I made sure it was going to be freezing and the line was going to be extra long."

"Hey, Brock!" a voice echoed behind us. Michael-Mark-Matt was heading our way, and I immediately felt Brock's arms drop from my waist. "Can you believe this place?! We had to sign a waiver! Oh, hey, Aria! You guys on a date or something? Seems like everyone is here tonight! Walker is just a few people behind us."

Walker? Did he mean–

"Who are you here with?" Brock asked while he casually tried to untangle me from his coat. I looked at him questioningly, but he didn't spare me a glance.

"Jason, L.J., Britt, and them. Going to L.J.'s after. You guys should stop by," Matt offered. "Aight, gotta go. Peace!"

We counted off in groups of six to ten and entered the dark opening together. Brock held my hand, which I was immensely grateful for, since now I was actually scared. The entrance was murky, and a distinct scent of mildew ran through my nostrils. I could feel damp puddles beneath my Doc Martens. A deep voice spoke overhead, detailing the history of the asylum through a crackly speaker.

"It would be easy to find a place to make out in here," Brock whispered under the narration. I elbowed him, though I was secretly grateful for the distraction. This place was truly creepy.

Blue lights littered the ceiling of the first room we entered. Disheveled hospital beds with bodies strapped to them lined the far wall. Creaking and whining filled the air while the bodies moved side to side. I narrowed my eyes to one specific bed just when the entire bed swung forward, flinging a running body towards us. I screamed as it stopped less than a foot from me. Brock's arms were around me, though I could hear him laughing.

"Bastard," I said under my breath, which only made Brock crack up harder. He gave me a squeeze before he let me go, but kept my hand.

The next room held a strange scene of a psychiatrist, played by a live actor, taking notes on an empty bed. The psychiatrist carried on a loud monologue to the air. "Deeply deranged," he cackled as his pen scratched on the paper in front of me. "Thoughts of homicide... Hmm... Haha... Good... Good..." Suddenly, several bodies began scraping down the walls, crawling out of man-made holes in the crumbling brick.

Brock's face twisted just as much as mine, though no one screamed. "That was so weird," I whispered to Brock while we followed the group into the next room. He nodded in response.

We entered a dark red room next; the only source of illumination was a single black light shining at the next entrance. I gripped Brock's hand a little tighter as we walked down a narrowing hallway. Slurs for terms used to describe those with mental health challenges were scribbled all over the walls. The narration told us that those terms were written by real patients. I walked past a plethora of words– "psycho," "crazy," "nuts." I felt a chill down my spine, thinking about someone actually writing them.

As the hall narrowed, we fell into a single file line, and it became harder to keep a hold of Brock's hand. The lights and narration went off, leaving us to sit silently on what felt like a rickety old drawbridge. We could feel ourselves sway when any movement was made. Someone else in our group began to say, "What the–" just as the entire contraption dropped. There were several screams. Though the drop couldn't have been more than a foot, my stomach was in my throat.

"Are you alright?" Brock asked, pulling one arm around me. I nodded, though I wasn't sure if he could see me. It was still dark, and we were still dangling. Suddenly, a hazard alarm sounded, and there were red flashing lights everywhere.

"Code red!" the narration sounded. "A patient has escaped. Code red!"

The contraption we were all stuck on tilted to let us exit one by one. The next room we entered was a large, dark hallway with doors leading to patient rooms. The lights and siren continued to blare as we slowly made our way through the space. There were small glass windows in each door, allowing people to see inside the rooms. Some had patients banging on the windows, others were completely empty, but one room, the last one in the hallway, was left open. My eyes settled on the nurses and doctors that were strewn about on the floor, all with stab wounds, some moaning in pain while others randomly grabbed at people, begging for help and warning us of the dangerous, escaped patient.

We were led out of the building, signaling the end of the tour. "That was insane," Brock laughed, squeezing me into him again. I couldn't help but smile seeing him enjoy himself so much. I wasn't sure I shared those feelings, but I could be happy for him.

"It was definitely something," I managed to say, sticking my face in his chest as we stood in line for the bus.

"Aw, are you still scared?" He wrapped his arms around me to hold me close. I sighed in content. Screw the asylum. If it meant I could stay in Brock's arms, I wanted to stay there forever.

"I don't even know if scared is the right word. That was weird." I frowned slightly while I looked up at him. I was playing up the sad face, hoping he'd find it cute. I thought it worked when I felt his nose brush against mine. I tilted my head up, trying to turn our contact into a kiss, when he pulled his face back up and brushed my cheek with his thumb. I turned disappointedly as the bus came to a stop in front of us.

The driver grumpily stomped his way down the stairs and out the open door. "C'mon, c'mon! Quickly now, we ain't got all day!" Perplexed by his rude behavior, people shot him dirty looks while they began boarding the bus again for the ride back. The overhead flood lights began to flicker. "Didn't ya hear that there is an escaped patient?! It's not safe..." he trailed off as his eyes shot open wide. He took off running into the distance. Brock and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows, thinking this must be the grand finale of the attraction. Other passengers began to whisper, some looking through the window to see if they could track the path of the driver.

"What in the hell is going on here?" a deep, burly voice shouted.

Nobody responded. Within seconds, the sound of a chainsaw could be heard revving to life, and a blood-covered body in a torn straight-jacket appeared from the bushes brandishing the tool. Its face was stark white with large black bags around the eyes. It came closer to people, revving the engine and growling at us in warning. I shook my head and looked at Brock with a smirk when we realized that this was, indeed, the finale. The patient was soon tackled by doctors and nurses, the chainsaw stripped from him. They shouted at us repeatedly to board the bus immediately, and we got the clue that this time we actually should.

"This was fun." I smiled while we exited the bus to a large crowd, some standing idle in the entranceway, some in line waiting to board the bus to the asylum. The area was oddly dark for such a large crowd, but as fate would have it, I immediately locked eyes with none other than Noah. He was with Elijah and the other band mates, but also Carly and Quinn. Noah offered me a wave, which I tried to return, but Brock wrapped his arms around my waist, effectively pinning my hands to my sides. He leaned against me and kissed the back of my head. Noah shook his head slightly before turning back to the rest of his group. I frowned.

"This was fun." Brock grabbed my attention again with my own words as we backtracked to his car and made our way home to Bridgeview. He held my hand loosely this time, driving with his left. The digital clock read 10:30 in bright red numbers, so I was glad my mom gave me extra time to get back. He laced his fingers between mine and brought my hand to his lips to kiss it. A smile spread across my face, butterflies flying in my stomach.

We rode home in relative quiet. It was 11:52 when Brock pulled into my driveway and turned the ignition off. He looked at me, perfect green eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Better get you in there before you turn into a pumpkin." He was obviously teasing me about my mom's joke. I didn't find it quite as amusing.

We walked to my front door, all in the house seemingly dark and quiet once again. No one remembered to leave the front porch light on either. I shivered while the wind nipped at my face. Brock spun me around to face him, a little more forcefully than he had before, and within seconds, his lips were on mine as if he was holding in that kiss all night. I returned the fervor, showing him that I, too, was waiting for this. I could feel his hands grip my waist tighter while I slid my hand around his neck and pulled him into me. I lost time as I kissed him. My entire body went numb as I did, but I hardly noticed. All I cared about was Brock and his lips on mine.

The front porch light flicked on, and we immediately jumped away from each other. My mom waved through the window, pretending to be at least somewhat oblivious to what she just witnessed. With a cheeky smile on his face, Brock waved at the both of us and turned to leave.

I watched as he drove away, and just as his car disappeared from view, I began jumping up and down in celebration. My mom was laughing at me in the now open doorway, but I didn't care. At that moment, I was the happiest I had ever been.

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⭐ Hit the STAR if Mandy Moore's "I Wanna Be With You" gets you all in your feels. Anyone remember the infamous scene in Center Stage? Prime early 2000s vibes all around.