Billy Jeffers: Rockers of Steel by Mj Fields Page B

explanation. The problem is, unreasonable girls like me don’t always like reason.
    I hear a phone ring, and he looks over. “It’s yours.” He leans over and hits a button on the steering wheel.
    “Hello?” I ask.
    “Madison?”
    “This is she.”
    “Great, this is Professor Jones. I wanted to chat with you about the project you’re working on.”
    “Now’s really not the best time for that,” I say, feeling more than a little embarrassed.
    “I have someone who is very interested in buy—”
    I end the call.
    “Did you just hang up on your professor?” Billy asks, confused. “And wait, are you taking classes?”
    “Yes and yes,” is my answer.
    “Where? When?”
    “Online, when I’m not at work.”
    “And this project …?”
    “You ask a lot of questions for someone who is supposed to be napping,” I comment.
    “Well, I think it’s great. You should—”
    “I don’t wanna talk about it,” I cut him off.
    “Why?” He sounds dumbfounded.
    “It’s no big deal; that’s why.”
    “It is, Madison. Obtaining your degree—”
    “It’s not. You may think a piece of paper saying you’re intelligent is a great accomplishment, but I don’t.”
    “Then why do it?”
    I shrug. “I like to learn.”
    “Well, we seem to have something in common, then.”
    I can’t help giggling and glancing over. “I’m more than just a pretty face.”
    He smirks and rolls his eyes. “You’re very modest.”
    “I am.” I giggle again.
    “Tell me about your project.”
    “I designed an app.”
    “Wow, that’s very interesting. Has it always been a dream or a goal?”
    “No, it was kind of an accident.”
    “But it sounds like it’s marketable.”
    “It’s not for sale. It would be like selling my baby.” I glance over at him.
    He nods once and doesn’t say anything more until one word escapes his lips. “Congratulations.”
    “Thank you.”
    “May I ask you to consider slowing down so you don’t get a ticket?” he asks.
    “Will you stop saying that and maybe go to sleep like you said you were going to?”
    “Yeah. I would like to stop and grab a drink, maybe something to eat if you’re hungry.”
    “Will you allow me to drink in your car?” I snicker.
    “Yes, Madison,” he sighs.
    “Why? Because you know I’m a college girl now? Does that make me somehow less … animalistic?”
    “Point taken. I thought when you came to work here you walked away from school due to the success of the band” he grumbles. “Which online school?”
    “Not all online, but Notre Dame.”
    I hear a gasp of wind escape his chest and look over. The way he looks at me now makes me laugh loudly.
    “Oh, yeah, I’m so much hotter now.” I roll my eyes.
    “You are something; that’s for sure.” He looks out the window. “The next exit is in a mile”—he leans over and looks at the speedometer—“which means we’ll arrive in about twenty seconds.”
    “Billy’s got jokes.”
    “Aw, okay, and that’s almost as funny as the fact that you still have a license, considering you drive like a bat out of hell.”
    “I’m a good driver.” I snicker again.
    “Uh-huh.”

    After stopping, filling up the vehicle, grabbing a couple drinks, using the bathroom—where I call Professor Jones and tell him we had a bad connection, but I was not willing to sell—I come out to find Billy standing against the car, eating a gas station hot dog.
    As I get closer, he hands me one. I bite my lip because I have jokes for days about that.
    “You can’t turn it off, can you?” he questions, but this time, he doesn’t sound as judgey as he usually does.
    “You try having Memphis as an older brother and not having a warped sense of humor.”
    “This is true.” He holds the hot dog out again.
    “Wow, and it’s wrapped. Who’d have thought?” I comment, taking it and walking around to get in the car.
    He gets in and looks at me. “I assume you’re talking about this morning.”
    “Yeah.” I laugh. “I