1
LULU
“Stupid car.”I kick the tire, hating the potholes that never seem to go away and only grow bigger through the winter.
I didn’t even see the damn thing in the middle of the road before my entire brain was jarred from the impact and my tire popped like it was a flimsy balloon.
I bend down, staring at the damaged rim. “Damn it.”
This isn’t going to be a simple change-the-tire job that I could do myself. I really don’t have time to deal with this today. I have a meeting with a new client in two hours to go over the whole-house organization package she purchased from me yesterday. Business has really started to take off lately, especially since I began posting my work on social media more consistently.
I grab my phone from the passenger seat and dial the number for roadside assistance. The woman on the other end tells me someone will be to me within a half hour.
Me: My tire’s blown.
Tate: Oh no. Want me to come get you?
The last thing I want is for Tate to come rescue me. She is a new mom and has bigger responsibilities than bailing me out for a stupid tire.
Me: No. Roadside is on the way.
Nino: What happened?
Me: Pothole.
Mason: Hate them. It’s why I won’t get a car.
He’s full of it. The boy is cheap, and he hates parting with his money for just about everything, including a car, gas, and insurance.
Amelia: At least your heater still works.
I crank it up as soon as I read her message, thankful that the car is still running since it’s barely above freezing today.
Spring can’t come soon enough. I’m not a winter girl, no matter how cute some of the clothes are.
Zoey: Lemme know where you’re headed, and I’ll pick you up.
Me: Can I borrow your car for the day?
Zoey: Sure thing. I’m working at the bar later.
Brax: I’ll give you a ride home after work.
I love my family. Sure, they are a pain in the ass sometimes, but they are the absolute best. Doesn’t matter what kind of shit I get myself into, someone always has my back.
Me: Thanks, cousin.
Tate: Let us know when the tow is there.
Me: Will do.
I close the group chat and open my favorite app, reading through comments on my latest posts about my last job, which was a home office redo.
Each video reaches a bigger audience, and although I still have a small following, it’s no less exciting to see it grow.
I lose track of time on the side of the highway, trying to ignore the cars whizzing by me at such a fast speed that they could demolish my car with a mere swipe of the side.
Don’t think about it, Lulu. You’ll be fine. You’re not going to die today.
