Shit. Itismaking funny noises, and I seem to be losing power. What do I do?
AJ’s drifting further ahead on his bike.
Then there’s a loud BANG.
I squeal. For a moment, I lose control of the steering wheel, mainly for shock. Hitting the indicator, I break hard and pull over on the side of the road, gripping the curves of the wheel. My car comes screeching to an ugly sounding halt, smoke coming out of the hood.
I switch off the ignition, blink hard, then stare out of the windshield. The skin strains over my knuckles. About fifty meters ahead of me, through the haze, I see AJ pull over on his bike. He removes his helmet, and I see him look back in my direction. I unbuckle myself and make a swift exit, suddenly convinced my car is going to burst into flames.
AJ’s running down the breakdown lane toward me.
‘I don’t know what happened,’ I blurt breathlessly when he reaches me, and now every time I look at him, all I can picture is he and Amber having vigorous sex. ‘It just started making odd noises.’
AJ grimaces and rubs his forehead. I know he needs to be getting back, and this situation isn’t ideal.
The smoke has lessened. It would appear my car isn’t about to explode. He points to the driver’s seat. ‘Pop your hood for me.’
I go back to the car and do as I’m told. I watch AJ remove his jacket and lower it to the ground. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing as I hit the release button. He reaches two hands under the hood, then lifts it.
I get back out and go to the front of the car. More smoke billows out from underneath the hood and there’s a hissing sound. AJ’s holding on with one assured arm above his head, surveying the damage and supporting the hood’s weight. I’m met with his impressive bicep at eye level, the intricate tattoo inked around the circumference. He waves his left hand over the engine, clearing the remnants of the smoke.
‘Can you see what’s wrong with it?’ I ask.
‘You got shitty car syndrome, that’s what,’ he says after a moment, unimpressed. He sighs, then points. ‘See that? Your fuel pressure regulator is screwed. That’s why your engine was making a weird noise.’
‘Can you fix it?’
‘I can, but not without tools or a new pressure regulator. Guessing you don’t have one of those in your trunk.’
‘Uh—’
He looks at me. ‘You got Triple A?’
‘I do, but it’s on my father’s account. I’d have to call him first. Then he’d know I was here, wherever here is. I’m guessing that’s not such a good idea.’
AJ lowers the hood, then closes the whole thing. He presses the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
‘What do we do?’ I ask. ‘Can you call Echo? Tell him you’ll be late back?’
‘I don’t have my phone. I left it in Rapture on purpose. Do you have yours?’
I nod my head.
‘You got data service?’
‘Of course.’
‘Your daddy pay for that too?’
My shoulders drop.He’s annoyed at me? Surely, I should be the one annoyed at him?‘Look, if you need to get going, then you just go. I’ll sort my car out.’
He shakes his head. ‘I’m not leaving you here.’
If I use American phrases to Americans, it’s usually because I’m making a point. ‘Well, you seem pissed at me that you’re not going to get back to Echo on time.’
‘I’m not pissed at you. I do hate your car though.’
‘I told you, I can’t work in this country. I don’t have a green card.’
