"What is it?" Amelia asks.
"Huh?" I'm dazed over the nostalgia.
"I don't think I've seen you smile like that before."
I rearrange my face and get back to the car so she doesn't ask any other questions I’m not comfortable answering. "It's nothing."
"This is the battery?" She pivots the conversation, but in doing so, gets curious and reaches for the corroded box.
"Careful," I command, grabbing her wrist before she can make contact. "Battery acid is dangerous. It's best not to touch it."
A moment passes and I realize I haven't let go of her wrist. She looks down, surprised as well. Physical contact is rare for us. And even though we've technically passed first base when I groped her chest, this feels different. Almost primal.
Her pristine skin now has dark smudges all over her thanks to my dirty hands.
"Shit, I'm sorry." I try to rub it off but it's spreading. "Dammit."
"It's okay, I can go wash my hands."
"I didn't mean to get you dirty, I—"
But before I can finish my sentence, the garage door begins to open. By the time I close the hood and the door is up, Amelia is no longer by my side.
Our parents are smiling and grabbing bags from the backseat.
"Hey, honey," my mom says. "What are you doing in here alone?"
"Oh, nothing really. Checking out the car."
I figured Amelia would return to greet her dad once she was done washing her hands. But as the three of us go into the house, she's not waiting in the kitchen.
It's almost like she doesn't want to give her dad the idea we are capable of being friendly.
Thispastweek,I'vecome to terms with my failed job search. I always assumed I'd bounce right back and find a job within my field rather quickly. But the more days that pass, and the more shifts I pick up to kill time, I realize this isn't going to work out for me.
The feel-good movies people watch in theaters are expected to have a happy ending. Maybe mine is looking different than I imagined.
Breakfast is brutal. Everyone seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. Even Theo could barely look in his mom's direction. If emotions were a cloud, his would be dark and looming over the entire house.
If we had a better family dynamic, I'd suggest we all go out and get brunch to turn around our bad moods, but we aren't the kind of household that does fun things like that.
I'm reviewing my resume and cover letter for the millionth time, doubting all the skills I was so confident about in the beginning of my job search. Why am I not getting any interviews?
"Something has to be wrong." Theo is next to me as I continue inspecting it.
My dad and Molly look over while they sip their coffee.
"Why do you say that?" Molly asks.
"Because I am barely getting any hits. My resume is awesome. Why haven't I gotten responses?"
"Want me to take a look?" my dad proposes.
"Let me see it." Theo grabs my laptop, ignoring my dad's offer.
He scans it, and I wait for him to pick it apart. A few minutes pass by and his face is impossible to decipher.
"Resume looks good."
