C’mon, Garrett. It’s not that fucking hard.
“Well, you’re good at it.”
Real smooth. Fucking poetic, even.
The regret is immediate.
Isla chuckles, almost like she can tell I’m trying. “You think so?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “You got a clean shot. Not blurry. Good light.”
And why do I suddenly sound like I know my shit when it comes to videography?
But her smile seems to widen, and I wonder just how far I’d embarrass myself to keep it going.
“Well, I have followers, see?” She points to the follower count. “I’m up to five hundred and seven in a week.”
“That’s it?” I ask with a blink.
Her mouth drops open. “What?”
“No. Shit. That came out wrong.” I scrub a hand down my face to try to erase that feeble attempt at support. “I meant, it should be way higher given how thoughtful it is.”
Her lips twitch. “Nice save.”
She’s teasing me.
And it’s all I can do to remind myself that it’s just Isla, and we’ve talked plenty at the clubhouse. Maybe not for long periods of time. And maybe that’s the oddness of all this, actually spending time together.
Yet, for a second, I forget how to speak.
“Should we load all this into my car?” Isla asks. She gestures to the mess.
“Sunbeam, I hate to break it to you, but your car should be going into that dump too.”
Isla pats the trunk like it’s a beloved pet. “Don’t insult her.”
I shake my head. “She’s held together with duct tape and wishful thinking.”
Isla snorts. Like, actually snorts with laughter. And it might be my new favorite sound.
“C’mon,” I say, nudging her lower back with my palm. “Let’s go get some more junk. If Kai’s gonna make another run before we have to get to the clubhouse, we should be ready for him, and it should be worth it.”
“You know, you guys don’t have to do two runs this morning. You’ve already saved me three trips with that first run. It can be enough. You don’t?—”
“I know.”
Her hands flutter helplessly. “I can do it myself.”
“It’s not in my nature to watch someone struggle when I’ve got two working arms and two working legs, and a truck built for hauling shit. But if this is because it’s important to you…for your videos, and for you to feel like you did it all yourself, just tell us.”
She appears offended for half a second and then deflates. “I appreciate the help. I just don’t want to be a burden.”
That hits harder than anything else she’s said today.
For a moment, I think about Grizz and Birdie and how they don’t want to be burden’s either. I had a quiet word with Raven at the diner, to see if she could figure out some kind of meal rotation drop off amongst the old ladies to make things a little easier for them.
“You couldn’t burden me if you tried,” I say, too honestly.
