GEMMA
She preferred imaginary heroes to real ones, because when tired of them, the former could be shut up in the tin kitchen till called for, and the latter were less manageable.
—LOUISAMAYALCOTT
Ihadn’t meant to make Karson feel bad last week. I just wanted him to feel what it was like when he compared me to someone else, but I, of all people, should know better. I was acting like Jacob, flaunting my preference for Joseph with a coat of many colors. It was bound to backfire.
I’d like to be able to blame my evil twin, but she suggested dating Thad, not using him to make Karson jealous. Jewel had actually given some good advice that night. Good, but not welcome. Why is the good advice always so hard?
I should have treated Karson with respect, even if I didn’t agree with his choices. That’s how Jewel described love. Instead, my actions practically proved him right. I cared more about myself than him.
Though it might be too late for us to work things out, I need to apologize for my part. For hurting him when I said I wouldn’t. For not being who he deserved. So I’m back at the fire station for another class.
We’re supposed to be driving the fire trucks tonight. I wore my Nikes instead of heels in hopes Karson notices and it reminds him of how I wore Erin’s ugly shoes to drive the police car.
“Now, Gemma,” Charlie chides. He’s still a little bitter from how I lost him the smoke-filled-room race. “You can’t drive a fire truck like you do a cop car.”
I think I nod, but I’m too busy straining my neck in search of Karson to make eye contact or respond verbally. A man in a black police uniform exits the firehouse, and my pulse surges forth like the men inBraveheartheading into battle.
Except the dude is African American. And he’s ripped. “Drew?”
The policeman turns my way and smiles as if he doesn’t know my day will be ruined if he tells me Karson asked him to come in his place. “Hey, Gemma. You ready to race fire trucks?”
A thread of hope holds my heart together. “Did you come just to see how fast I can weave through cones?”
“I did, I did.” He rubs his big hands together. “And Zellner asked me to fill in for him. He couldn’t make it tonight.”
The pieces of my heart are unthreaded in one quick yank.
“Come here, girl.” Drew puts his beefy arm around me. He must have read the expression on my face and figured it has something to do with Karson. “Nobody is a hero all the time. We’re just all in training.”
I look up at his dancing eyes. He’s a cop. He should believe in good guys and bad guys. But instead, he makes it sound as if none of us are anything without redemption.
“Now, you ready to drive a fire truck?” Drew moves on as if the only training he’s been talking about is Citizen’s Safety Academy, though I know better. He points at Charlie. “Your roommate over there seems to want your group to go first.”
“I do.” Charlie walks backward toward the red truck, waving for me to follow. “Let’s go, Gemma.”
I force a smile. These people made the effort to be here with me, so I need to stop focusing on the one who didn’t.
Since Charlie is driving first, Kai and I have to climb up some diamond-pattern metal steps to an area in the back of the cab with bench seating. It’s small and uncomfortable and smells like the grease in a mechanic shop. I’m not sure how big men in thick gear fit back here, but I take my spot next to some kind of equipment locker and pose for all Kai’s pictures. Then I watch through a small window as Thad instructs Charlie on how to turn the giant steering wheel to maneuver this rig around orange cones.
There was a time when I would have looked forward to my turn behind the wheel. Especially if Karson was here, crossing his arms and smirking at me. Oh man, I miss his smirk.
Charlie shifts into park, opens his door, and calls to me. “Okay, Gemma. I only knocked over one cone. See if you can beat that.”
“Ignore him.” Kai waves Charlie away. “This is your chance to research for the script you’re writing. Just imagine yourself as Sandra Bullock inSpeed.”
I press my lips together because there’s no arguing with that. “I’ll do Sandra proud.”
Thad watches Charlie and me trade places. “That’s so cool you write movies. Would I know anything you’ve written?”
“No.” I shake my head and stare off into space.
Kai raps on the window between us. “She’s a good writer,” he says.
Except how would he know? He’s all about the visuals.
“She just hasn’t found her niche yet,” Charlie states before climbing up the steps behind me to join Kai.
