The color drained from Tyler’s face. “But... but you just... and I said...”
“You said it was a good idea,” Stella pointed out helpfully. “Huge time commitment, you said. Very thorough process.”
“That was when I thought you were joking!”
“Why would I joke about wanting to drive?”
“Because... because...” Tyler gripped the counter. “You weren’t serious. Tell me you weren’t serious.”
“I’ve been thinking about it since I got here. Watching kids my age driving past the beach. Windows down, music playing. Freedom.”
“Freedom,” Tyler repeated faintly. “She wants freedom. In a car. My sixteen-year-old wants?—”
The grilled cheese on the grill started smoking.
“Tyler,” Joey said urgently. “Tyler, the sandwich?—”
But Tyler stood frozen, staring at Stella like she’d just revealed she was secretly an alien.
“THE SACRED CHEESE!” Joey dove for the grill, spatula flying. “BERNIE, WE NEED BACKUP!”
“What’s happening?” Bernie perked up from his corner.
“Tyler’s having a moment and the cheese is burning!”
“She wants to actually drive,” Tyler said faintly. “She played me. She saved me from Patricia just to tell me she wants to operate heavy machinery.”
“Cars aren’t heavy machinery,” Stella pointed out.
“Two tons of metal powered by explosions isn’t heavy machinery?”
“When you put it like that,” Bernie mused, “it’s a wonder any of us survive.”
“Not helping, Bernie!”
“SAVED!” Joey held up the slightly charred sandwich triumphantly. “The cheese lives to fight another day!”
“I need to make a phone call,” Tyler said, already heading for the back door. He moved like a man in a dream—or a nightmare. “Nobody move. Nobody... learn anything while I’m gone.”
“But you said it was a good idea—” Stella started.
“That was before I knew you were serious!”
The back door slammed. Through the window, Stella could see him pacing in the alley, phone already pressed to his ear, gesticulating wildly with his free hand.
“Is he okay?” Joey asked, still cradling the rescued sandwich.
“He’s calling my mum,” Stella explained, settling back on her stool to enjoy the show. “This should be good.”
Even from inside, they could hear fragments of Tyler’s increasingly agitated voice:
“—L-PLATES, Fiona! She asked for L-PLATES!”
Bernie chuckled. “This is better than my weather knee stories.”
“Should someone check on him?” Joey asked, but he was clearly enjoying the drama too much to actually move.
Through the window, Tyler had stopped pacing. He stood very still, and even from here Stella could see his shoulders slump in defeat.
