Chapter 7
Ali Kat
This isn’t the first time I’ve been in the passenger seat of Garrett’s Ford Mustang, the last time being around twelve years ago, my high school year.
It was his baby then, much as it seems to be now with a detailed interior and various after-market embellishments.
One thing that has changed is his taste in music. Back in the day, it was all Bon Jovi and Guns N’ Roses. Now, he listens to country music.
The car still smells of mint.
Garrett keeps his eyes on the road, his strong jaw fixed tight, a hand on the shifter. His hair is unkempt, but it somehow manages to fall in a way that perfectly frames his handsome face. He’s the total opposite of the Hollywood men that I’m used to, which only makes me want him more.
Every once in a while I see his gaze divert to my legs, which are on full display with how short my shorts are, but he catches himself quickly, forcing his eyes back to the road.
“I hear you own a body shop,” I say, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
“Yeah.”
“Where’s it at?”
“It’s the old shop on Crest, the one that was owned by Janer.”
“Janer’s!” I enthuse. “The one with the stage where we’d have the socials?”
“Bought it out nearly six years ago when old man Janer was toying with retirement.”
“You loved racin’ and cars so much back then. You’re livin’ the dream!”
His face grows dark, his Adam’s apple bobbing from a hard swallow. “The thing is, it’s all do it yerself now. Oil, brakes. Heck, people saw some woman taking a dent out of a car with one of those suction dildos, and I’m pretty sure I shoulda bought stock in them. No one needs an expert. If they blow their engine, they just up and buy a new car. No one cares to fix what’s broken anymore.”
And just like that, with his confession of poor sales and suction dildos, I want the silence back.
The people I usually mix with rarely face any real setbacks. They may lose out on a coveted role or invest poorly, but my inner circle rarely stays down and out for long.
Garrett adjusts his grip on the wheel, his expression hardening further. I wish I could think of something to say to quiet his storm, but sometimes, there are no words.
“Irene’s gonna be real happy to see you,” he finally says.
I have to force a smile because I feel the exact opposite about seeing her. When we last spoke, I had just been cast in my first big movie role. I told her how excited I was, and she said she was excited for me. Then, I just got so caught up in my new life, I never did call again. Initially, it was exhaustion. Shooting sixteen-hour days with very little sleep. Then, it was everything else, parties, friends, events. I wish I had thought of her more.
“So, how you like livin’ with Jake? You two never did get along.”
“I really couldn’t stand that fucker,” he says with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “He was a year behind me, but people always compared us. Now, there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
“I remember back in high school when you two would go at it. God, I wanted so badly for you to pop him good.”
His brow furrows. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Yeah, you were so cool, and my brother was so lame.”
“I didn’t realize there was such discourse in the Carter household.”
“Oh, don’t think for a second that the Flint household was united.”
He scowls at me. “What are you sayin’?”
“I’m saying that while I was shakin’ my pom-poms for you, Irene was doing the same for Jake.”
