direction

I couldn't believe that he wanted to drive in the rain with the windows down. It was silly, and he was doing it to be more interesting, like people who only use a French press or like my friend at work who refuses to write with anything other than her monogrammed pen. Your leather seats are getting wet, I said. They're getting ruined. I emphasized ruined because I wanted him to know how he made me feel.

He ignored me and continued on with his lecture. If you believe everything that other people tell you, we're going to have a problem, he said.

I stared outside and felt the rain on my left eyebrow and on my upper lip and in between my eyelashes. 

I'm rolling up my window, I said. And I think the reason you want to keep them down is because you don't want to believe anything other people tell you. 

He considered this for a moment and then smiled and held my hand. 

Maybe you're the problem, he said.