“Dammit!” I coughed outside the garage as a strange car pulled into the driveway.
An ugly brown Ford Bronco with fat roll bars on the top and a big rusted dent in the driver’s door. It was possibly the dirtiest car I’d ever seen, with giant wheels covered in dried mud.
The dented door swung open, and Seb jumped out, followed by his dog.
“Hey!” Dressed in khaki shorts and a bright aqua polo shirt withNeely Marinaembroidered on the front, Seb waved awaysmoke as he approached. “Was coming out here and spotted you driving past McDonald’s. What’s going on?”
I was honestly relieved to see him. “Started smoking when I was in town to see Jazmine. No idea why, but this happened once before but I don’t remember the cause. What causes white smoke?”
“Could be a lot of things: a seal, or a gasket. Based on where the smoke was coming from when I was driving behind you, I’d guess it was the O-rings.”
He’d always been good with cars. “Is that O-expensive?”
“Not if you do it yourself,” he said with a little smile. “Would take three or four hours, probably. I could try if you want?”
It was hard to be mad at him when he was being so nice. “Are you serious? God, Seb. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Can’t guarantee that’s your issue until I get under the hood. Could look at it tomorrow, maybe? I’ve got to work today,” he said, gesturing toward his marina polo.
“Of course, yes. Tomorrow is perfect.” I already felt the relief of my panic subsiding, but it was mixed with other feelings I couldn’t quite identify. I guess it was just strange to rely on Seb, of all people, for something I needed.
He glanced at his phone. “Speaking of work... Only got a few minutes.”
“Your eye is looking a little purple around the edges today,” I noted. “No broken nose, so I guess that means you didn’t return to the bonfire fight.”
“This right here,” he said, waving his hand in front of his face, “is called superior healing genes. Besides, Pretty Paul is a prick. I don’t need to fight him again.”
“Why were you fighting him to begin with?”The boy you abandoned all your friends for, so you could run around town together, wreaking havoc.“I thought you were best of buds.”
“You and I were best of buds, once,” he pointed out. “Things change.”
Yes, they certainly did. “Sometimes abudgets tired of helping another bud who is intent on following a path of self-destruction, especially when he’s trying to take her down with him and doesn’t care if he lives or dies.”
He nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Completely understandable. Especially when she’s smart enough to have whatever future she wants, and he has... none.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d always had a way of pretending like he wasn’t feeling sorry for himself while low-key wallowing in self-pity.
I’d done plenty of my own wallowing over the years. When he left his friends for the company of Paul, I thought I’d never get over it and felt his absence like a phantom limb. I had to tell myself the same thing every day for months and months: my boy was gone, and he wasn’t coming back.
Guess I was wrong, because here he was, standing next to me like the past few years had just been a terrible fever dream.
“Anyway, the past is the past, dusty and forgotten,” he said, waving dismissively. “I only care about the present, and presently Pretty Paul is under the impression that I’m to blame for his bad luck because he lost something that he wrongly assumed belonged to him.”
“And might that be because youstolesomething that belongs to him?” If it wasn’t nailed down, he would take it, just because. Dollar store candy. Silverware from restaurants. Cars.
Seb put the “maniac” in “klepto.”
“Maybe. What really is property, anyway? Can one human being really own anything?” he mused, giving me a lopsided smile. “Anyway, Paul and I haven’t been on friendly terms since I got back. Guess our overall life philosophies don’t jibe so well anymore.” He shrugged as if he couldn’t care less.
There was probably more to that story. Always was, when Seb was involved. Maybe I should be wondering if Pretty Paul Vanderburg and his gang of misfits were involved in my cottage break-in. When I found Seb on the beach at the bonfire and mentioned the Vanderburgs, Seb didn’t seem to think they had anything to do with it.
Is he lying?
“Why are you here, anyway?” I asked as his dog snuffled its nose under my hand. Apparently no one gave Punkin the notice that I don’t get along with her kind. I pulled my hand back and grimaced.
“So you can thank me.”
I arched a brow. “For all the ten-cent recycling deposits I’m going to collect when I take your empty glass beer bottles down to the grocery store?”
