Page 16 of Strange Love

Taz furrows his brow in confusion, “What do you mean?”

I hesitate before answering because I don’t know the details; even when I do, it won’t be my business to tell. Before I can respond, Taz interrupts my thoughts.

“I think you’re into this girl,” he teases, giving me a pointed look. “Better tell Garrison and the guys to lay off.”

I roll my eyes at his suggestion, but there’s a small twinge of truth behind it. “I wouldn’t go that far,” I protest weakly. “I’m curious about her.” But even as I say the words, I know Taz doesn’t believe me. And he probably shouldn’t because ever since she first caught my eye on the first day of school, she hasn’t left my mind for a second unless I’m on the ice.

After getting cleaned up after the game, I decided to blow off the post-game celebration, grab some food, and head to the dealership to see if Mom is working. After my quick stop, the scent of greasy fried chicken from the fast food drive-thru fills the air of my car, making my mouth water.

The familiar sight of Finley’s Ford comes into view as I pull into the lot. Brightly colored inflatables sway in the breeze, advertising sale prices and exceptional deals. I cringe at how cheesy they look, but I have to admit they seem to attract customers.

I park my used Ford Escort, a gift from my mom and Alan, in the designated customer spot. It may not be flashy, but it gets me where I need to go and has enough space for all my hockey gear. Despite my guilt about them buying me a car, I’m grateful because it would have been impossible to afford one alone while juggling school and hockey.

I maneuver through the swarm of slick-haired salesmen, their pearly white smiles and witty jokes trying to sell dreams wrapped in shiny car bodies. Each one has been trained by Alan himself, able to convince customers that every problem in life can be solved with one of his cars. Feeling inadequate? Just buy this car. Wife being unfaithful? She’ll come back if you drive up in this car. Stuck in a dead-end job? Imagine how much better it will feel cruising there and back in your brand-new car.

As I walk through the bustling showroom, I catch a glimpse of Alan expertly selling to a couple. His charismatic smile and smooth gestures are in full force. And then I spot her, the girl who has been consuming my thoughts lately. She wanders among the shiny display models, her eyes roving over each one before widening in disbelief at the steep prices. She nervously tugs on a strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear as she joins her parents’ side.

I gingerly set the greasy, brown paper bag of takeout on an unoccupied desk and weave through the maze of cubicles to reach the small gathering by Alan’s office. As soon as he spots me, his face lights up with recognition and relief.

“Corey!” he exclaims, standing up from his chair with a broad smile, “What brings you here?”

“Just finished my hockey game and thought I’d stop by,” I reply casually, noticing Ivy’s anxious glances.

“Fantastic,” Alan replies before turning to the group of three strangers and introducing me. “This is my son, Corey. We run a family business here at Finley Ford.” I bite my tongue to keep from correcting him, but Ivy and her parents are all watching, so I take a deep breath and push away my irritation with him referring to me as his son.

“Ivy, here, is looking for a new car,” he tells me, “She goes to your school.” He watches us expectantly. “Do you know each other?”

“Not yet,” I reply, feeling Ivy’s gaze on me. “I mean, we haven’t officially met,” I add. “I’m Corey,” I introduce myself, offering a handshake.

“Ivy,” she says quietly. Her voice is soft and trembling as she introduces herself, her small hand disappearing in my calloused palm. Her hand is soft and cooler than mine, and I have to fight the urge to let her pull away, which she does almost immediately.

“It’s nice to meet you, especially since we will be partners on our English assignment,” I say with a knowing smirk.

“Well, isn’t that wonderful?” Alan interjects. “Why don’t you two chat, and I’ll show Ivy’s parents some of our inventory?”

“Okay,” she says quietly as her parents wander off with Alan.

I step back, my hands landing on the edge of an empty desk. My feet cross at the ankles as I lean against it, a small smile on my lips. “So, how’s school been treating you?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“It’s one thrill after another,” she responds sarcastically, causing me to chuckle at her dry humor. “It’s difficult for me; some people seem to delight in that.” I’m surprised at her candor.

“It sucks being the new kid. I moved here when I was thirteen,” I offer, trying to relate.

“And let me guess, everyone stared and talked behind your back?”

“Actually, yeah,” I reply, “They did.”

“Probably not for the same reasons as me,” she replies.

“Probably not,” I admit. “Look, people can be assholes,” I state bluntly, “But don’t let it get to you.”

“Easier said than done,” she answers, frustration evident in her voice.

“Is it really that bad?”

“It’s what I expected it to be,” she says.

“Can I give you some advice?”