He grunts and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I might know his name, but I don’tknowhim. His reputation precedes him, and although he seems nice enough, he’s a little scary, even without the skull tattoo on his forearm glaring up at me. He takes a few steps back but lingers nearby. A streak of panic shoots through me as he becomes nothing more than a shadow in the dim light. I stare at his silhouette and then at my phone, wondering who to call. I run through my options. Larissa is sweet, but unless she’s as good with cars as she is at dancing, I don’t think she can help me. Plus, our friendship is still relatively new, and I don’t want to be seen as needy. My insurance is lacking, so that leaves my family. Every single one of them, from my mom to my great aunt, is hours away in Crestwood.
I text my ex-roommate before remembering she and her boy bolted out of town for some family thing after helping me load up my car two days ago. Anyone else I could contact is someone from a former life. An ex, an old coworker from the mixed bag of jobs I’ve held over the years. I have more acquaintances than friends, and that’s fine. People are busy with their own lives. I’d rather sit here all night than wait around on someone who may not show up. I’ve been that girl one too many times. All I cando is smile, move on, and not make the same mistakes again.
Despite spending an entire day feeling like I belonged, it’s times like this that remind me more often than not, people you can depend on are hard to come by. If I think about it too long, it fills me with a sadness I can’t quite describe. But sad is not a word I like to associate with myself. So I push past it. Regardless of how dark the night, there’s always morning, right?
My eyes dart back to the shadowy figure. I prop open my door and yell to him, “You can go! They’re on their way.”
His wry chuckle echoes across the lot. “Good. I’ll wait with you.”
Now I can’t help but laugh. “Thanks, but really, it’s okay. I don’t want to keep you from your plans.”
“What plans?”
Ugh. Wrong excuse. “Whatever your plans are.”
“You’re in luck. I don’t have any.”
I groan at his resistance to leave me here, remembering all the times my family told me I wasn’t built for the city. That I was too sweet, too naive. That it would chew me up and spit me out like I was nothing more than Dubble Bubble. Glancing around my car, I wonder what my mom and sister would say if they could see me crammed in among almost everything I own. Except for Dollyboy, my cat, but that’s only because I spent my last chunk of money to board him while I wrapped up tryouts today. It's weird how bad things and good things can all live together on the same timeline. My day has simultaneously sucked and been the best one I’ve had yet.
He clears his throat. “I should have led with this, but I’m Ty Brewster.”
“I know,” I say after a long pause.
His brow arches as he steps into a beam of light, and though I think he’s waiting for me to share who I am, I don’t. Ty is quiet for a few beats. “I didn’t know if you recognized me with my shirt on.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my cheeks heating.
“Bad joke?” he asks.
I press my forehead into the steering wheel before raising it again. “How about we pretend that didn’t happen?”
He lifts his chin in my direction, eyeing me, but doesn’t say a word.
“Why are you so stuck on waiting around with a stranger anyway? How do I know you’re not some kind of psycho?” I ask, hoping he’s as eager as I am to move past the bathroom incident—as it shall be called from this moment forward.
“You don’t, I guess.”
“Exactly.” I slam my door shut.
Not a minute later, he’s looming outside my window again, his face close to the glass. “You realize over the past month there’s been five vehicle break-ins in this lot and a mugging three blocks away, right?”
I clear my throat. “I did not.”
“You just move here or what?” He crosses his arms, stepping back.
My stomach drops. It’s something I’m still sensitive about. I wonder if my small-town roots have betrayed me. What is it about me that seems to be a walking sign thatsays: “I don’t belong here. I was raised in a town of 5,000 people.” Even after all these years of living in Vista City, apparently, I still stick out.
But I don’t say any of that. I keep it to myself because what good would it do? “No.”
He examines me, eyes dipping to my blackened phone screen before finding my face again. “You didn’t call anyone, did you?”
I shake my head, accepting defeat.
“Why not?”
I tense up, ashamed to say the words aloud. “No one to call.”
He sighs, turns away, and disappears into the shadows again. Seconds later, the blink of headlights illuminates the night, and an engine revs. I watch as he pulls some fancy red SUV around to face my dumpster of a car. He parks and strides around to his trunk, popping it open and returning with some cords.
