“I thought you might feel that way.” He reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
I exhale. “I’m so embarrassed about last night. You must think I’m such an idiot.”
“Not at all. No one deserves what he did to you.”
I give him a small smile, shaking my head. “Well, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. I guess I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me shit.” He nudges my arm. “Want to know a secret?”
“Isn’t this place a secret?”
“Well, yeah, but I mean a different one.”
I nod. “Okay.”
“I don’t like many people, not really. But for some reason you’ve grown on me.”
16
GABE
JULY 7 YEARS AGO
“Jesus, do you work here now or something?” Akers teases on his way out for the night.
Ash smirks, flipping him off. It took a few evenings of sitting on the roof, but Ash seems to be back to her usual self. She has, however, taken up shop at the garage. After dropping something off to Shane one day last week, she’s decided sitting on a workbench and yammering on about whatever’s on her mind is how she’d like to spend her summer.
Honestly, I don’t mind. I like it when she rambles.
When he leaves, she asks, “How late are you working tonight?”
The clock hanging above her head reads 8 pm. I guess I lost track of time.
I close the hood of my Corvette. It belonged to my grandpa, and then my dad, and now me. It’s broken down more than it’s not, but I love it.
“You do realize you don’t work here, right? You don’t have to sit here until I’m done.”
“I know.” She shrugs. “But I don’t have anything else to do. I’ll go if it bothers you.”
Shit.She took that the wrong way.
“No. It’s fine.”More than fine. Please stay.
“Do you think this is what you want to do for the rest of your life? Like, do you want to work here every day until you die?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” Wiping my hands on a rag, I lean against the car. “I mean, I love the garage. It’s all the other shit I could do without.”
“I don’t know what I want. I don’t think I really care about a career, you know? Like, sure, it would be nice to do something you enjoy and get paid for it, but I just want to be happy. I want to spend time with people who care about me and want to be around me and go on trips and go to concerts and just live. You know?” She stares into the distance like she can see it all playing out.
“Yeah. I mean, I get that, but it all takes money.”
She shakes out of her daydream, focusing back on me. “Yeah, I know. I just mean I don’t want to spend my life being miserable. I spent the majority of my childhood with people who didn’t really want to deal with me. I don’t want to spend my adult life like that.” She says it like it’s a fact, like she’s not even sad about it.
“What’s the deal with your mom anyway?”
“Nothing really.” She shrugs. “She loves us. She’s not a bad person. I don’t think she was cut out to be a mom. She’s just kind of biding her time until we’re all grown and she doesn’t have to be responsible for us.”
“That’s bullshit.”
