by A. J. Logan
Me: Okay. I’ll see you later. Be safe.
Unsurprisingly, I don’t get a response.
Pulling the release, I pop the trunk hatch and step out of my car. Walking to the back of the Mustang, I lift the flat tire out of the trunk.
“Let me help you with that, Sadie,” Mr. George says, his hands replacing mine as he rolls the wobbly tire into the garage bay.
“Thanks, Mr. George.” He is one of the kindest and hardest working employees at my dad’s shop, so it’s no shock that he’s also the employee who’s been here the longest. Every time my dad mentions to George that he should retire, he won’t listen to it. George says he’d be bored at home and his wife would make him travel. Most people would love to travel out of the small town of Staffordsville, Texas, but Mr. George says there’s no other place he wants to be.
“The shop in Sunland replaced the valve stem a few days ago, but it went flat again.”
Mr. George examines it, grabbing a few tools as he gets to work on it. “I’ll get it fixed up for you.”
“Thank you.” I move to walk away but look back at the tire then to Mr. George. “Is there any way to tell if it’s been tampered with?”
He freezes, looking up to me through his scuffed-up safety glasses. “Someone up there giving you a hard time?”
“No. I was just wondering because it happened again so fast.”
Slowly he looks away, studying the valve stem carefully as he says, “It doesn’t look like anyone has messed with it. Sometimes you can just get a faulty one. If it happens again, come and see me. We’ll either get the tire taken care of or the buster messing with you.”
“Sounds good. I doubt anyone did it intentionally.” But I’m not completely relieved yet. “Thanks so much again for fixing it. I’m gonna go find my dad.”
“Frank’s in his office.” He stays on task as he waves me off. A few other employees say hi as I make my way to my dad’s office. It has the same smell of stale coffee and old motor oil. Why it’s comforting, I don’t know, but there’s no other smell like it.
Knocking on the wood door, I push it open a few inches until my dad spots me, waving me in with the phone up to his ear.
Stepping inside the office that hasn’t been redecorated since the ’90s, I sit in the leather chair, its splices scratching the bare skin of my thighs. My mom always told Dad she would spruce up his office, but he said he wasn’t in it enough to worry about hanging curtains or having fancy furniture. It’d be “covered in oil and grease before it made it into the building” was his automatic response.
“Yeah, sure. Friday is good. Sadie’s here. I’ll catch up with you later.” He doesn’t wait for a response, immediately clicking the phone, and dropping it on his desk. “I didn’t know you were gonna stop by.”
“My tire. The valve stem was leaking again.”
“Let’s go take a look at it.” He moves to stand, but I hold a hand out.
“Mr. George is fixing it now.”
“Oh, okay.” He relaxes back into the chair, but doesn’t look at ease in his own space.
“Dad, I’m sorry for what I said.”
His hands rest on the desk in front of him as he looks to them. “You don’t need to apologize. I should keep up with your brother more. You too. I just can’t do everything. She was always so good at everything.”
“She was, but so are you.”
He gives me a half-smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “So, how’s school?”
“Good,” I reply, not wanting to elaborate. It doesn’t feel like anything is good, but I can’t tell him that.
“How’s Kyle?”
“Um. We broke up.”
“Really? What happened?”
“No one thing … for several reasons, it’s for the best, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“I understand. Your mom was better at that too.”
“No. Yeah. No that’s not what I mean. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you about it, I just don’t want to talk about it. There’s really not much to say.”
“Are you sure? You two have been together for a while. Maybe just take some time and y’all can work out whatever is bothering you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You never know. Just give him a chance. All relationships are work. Your mom and I worked at it every day.”
“That’s different.”
A knock on the door interrupts me from explaining there is no way Kyle and I are working anything out. I know my dad is trying to help, maybe trying to work harder at being involved, so I don’t let it get to me.
The receptionist peeks in, apologizing for interrupting as she explains there’s a customer in the lobby who wants to speak with my dad.
“I’ll be back in a few.” My dad is almost out the door before I can respond.
“It’s okay. I need to head back to school anyway.” I really do. I’m already feeling behind with the rough start of the semester. I just need to get my mind straight, and I won’t be doing that anywhere near here. It used to be one of my favorite places. Now it just feels heavy.
“See you later.” Dad gives me a quick wave as he hurries out the door.
Our relationship might not be perfectly wrapped up with a bow, but I feel much better about it than I had on the drive over here. As I make my way back to the shop, I don’t spot Mr. George until I look over to see he’s already putting the repaired tire back on my car.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes I did. And remember what I said. If you have any more problems, you just come and see me.” Mr. George gives me a pat on the shoulder as he wraps me in a warm embrace. “Be safe on your drive back to school.”
“Thank you. I will. Please tell Mrs. Martha that I said hi.”
“Sure will.” He gives me another pat on the shoulder before turning back into the garage bay, resuming his work.
How does Mr. George make me feel more at home than my dad? He even makes me miss home.
Dropping into my car, I start it up and drive out of the lot. The small town of Staffordsville passes by quickly since there’s not much of it. Getting comfortable, I zone out while driving the hour back to school. I’m not in a hurry to get there, but I wasn’t exactly wanting to stick around my hometown either.
Maybe things will feel less out of sorts at school soon without Kyle around. At least, that’s what I’m hoping as I crank up the music and head back to Sunland.
18
Sadie
Normalcy. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so because no other Monday morning has ever started out with finding a moron leaning against my car. It’s a toss-up which moron I want to see less, but right now, this one is in the top spot.
“Get off my car.”
Dylan remains propped against the Mustang, arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. Relaxed. Way too relaxed.
Glancing over the driver’s side, I quickly take a sweep of the passenger side before asking what first popped into my head when I saw the big dummy leaning against my car. “How do you know where I live?”
“I have my ways of finding out about things that interest me.”
Halting in front of him, I slowly raise my eyes to meet his. “Does that load of bull and creepy lurker persona actually work where you’re from?”
He doesn’t respond, playing up the creepy part, I’m guessing. Pressing my fingers to my temples, I close my eyes. “It’s Monday. I have class—just tell me if you did something to my car again. Should I be preparing to change another flat tire this morning?”
“Nah. It’s not as fun watching unless you’re wearing a dress.”
I’ve not had enough sleep or coffee to deal with this jackass. “Go. Away.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” His slick, appealing tone is lost on me. I can’t see past the lunacy, as usual.
“Yes. Very sure. Now move.”
Pushing off the car, he says, “Ride with me.”
“Hard p
ass.” Pulling the door open, I drop into the driver’s seat and slam the door closed. I attempt to start the car but have no luck. Looking up, I spot Dylan watching me, leaning against his car as my phone chimes with a message. Reaching into my pocket, I keep my eyes on the pest until I look down to read the message that ensures he’s only going to keep the torment going.
Unknown: Need a ride?
Motherfucker. I’m going to strangle him. What did he do to my car now? How did he get my number? How deep does his crazy run? Because so far, he’s off-kilter on a good day. And today isn’t looking like a very good day.
Throwing the door open, I pull the hood release. Trudging to the front of the car, I pull the release latch, pushing the hood open.
“Psycho and unoriginal,” I mumble as I reconnect the battery cable. Even if my car never starts up again, I’m not getting in his car with him. After the cable is attached, I glance around to see everything else looks fine. Slamming the hood shut, I sit in the driver’s seat and turn the key. Thankfully, it cranks right up.
Pressing my hand against the window, I flip him the bird as he laughs. Jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing. Did he really think I’d fall for it?
My tire. He really had messed with my tire. If he’d do this to the battery, he’d definitely mess with the tires. I look over to him, an ominous feeling sailing through me. Had he done it the first time? I hadn’t even met him at that point.
Unknown: See you in class.
Ugh. There’s no way this is gonna go well. I doubt Kyle switched out of government because I asked him to.
Hurrying into the closest spot I can find near campus, I lock the car (not that it helps to keep a certain jackass from messing with it) and jog to class, arriving just about the time it’s going to start.
Glancing around, I spot Willow in her usual seat and head her way.
“Sadie,” Kyle calls from a few rows behind Willow.
Yeah. Jackass Number Two still hasn’t gotten the message either.
Just as I’m about to step into the row with Willow, a tight grip on my wrist pulls me in the opposite side. My bag falls to the ground and I lose my footing, stumbling as I’m pulled down into a chair. Only it’s not empty. Dylan smirks as he holds me in place on his lap. In the middle of the freakin’ classroom where most eyes are on us. Perfect.
“I guess you’re ready for that ride now,” he says, the innuendo unmistakable.
“If you touch me again, I’m going to make sure you won’t be giving any rides for a very long time.”
“Can everyone take a seat … in an empty chair please? Now.”
Dylan doesn’t seem embarrassed or bothered. Me on the other hand, I know my face is beet red. Not just from embarrassment but also from rage. I really need to give him a good kick in the balls soon.
His grip finally releases me and I shove off him, hurrying into my seat across the aisle.
I jump when I hear a voice whispering over my shoulder, just behind my ear.
“I told you to stay away from him,” Kyle says. I glance over my shoulder to look at his tight expression.
“And I told you we were done.” I resume my task of getting situated for class since it’s already in progress. The professor is lecturing but there are still a few sets of curious eyes staring in my general direction.
“You’ll never be done with me.” His voice is flat, unemotional but his words send a shiver down my spine because it sounds more like a threat than anything. Or maybe it just feels like one because I’ve never realized how suffocating Kyle could be until now.
The class goes by rather smoothly considering how it started. Willow and I walk to the Coyote Café and settle in at our table to get the daily ritual started after grabbing a coffee.
“So, what’s going on with you and Dylan?”
“Nothing.” It’s not nothing. I know that. Willow knows that. But nothing is the only word that comes to mind that I want to admit. Anything else makes things much more complicated. Nothing is the easy answer. I doubt there is a good answer where Dylan is concerned.
“It didn’t look like nothing.” Willow isn’t going to let up. It’s obvious something is going on when Dylan makes such a scene in middle of a class, but it doesn’t change the fact that I need to stay far away from him. Very, very far.
“He’s unhinged. And just like Kyle, can’t take a hint when it’s bluntly stated.”
“He’s nothing like Kyle,” she utters, glancing around the café.
“I know you hate Kyle, but Dylan isn’t any better.”
Thankfully, Parker arrives, sitting in the seat next to Willow. Kissing her cheek, he then whispers something in her ear, drawing her attention away from me. Willow will never believe that anyone could be worse than Kyle. Part of the problem is Parker—because he’s not a problem. Other than their minuscule, petty arguments, they get along better than any couple I’ve seen. No one is perfect, I fully believe that, but I tell Willow all the time that Parker is as close as they come.
“Bye,” Parker says, giving Willow a quick kiss. “Bye, Sadie.” He’s off, across the café before my goodbye leaves my lips.
“He seems distracted today.”
“Yeah. He’s been distracted a lot. He lost a lot of money on the race.”
The topic makes me unsettled because it once again revolves around Dylan. I haven’t even known the guy a week, but he’s inserted into nearly every conversation, moment, and thought in my day. And none of that is good right now.
“Sadie,” Willow says, getting my attention by waving a hand in front of my face. “What were you thinking about? Or should I ask who?”
“Yeah. My dad and brother. That’s who. It was a long weekend.” I tell Willow about my trip back home and what I said to my dad.
“I’m sure he knows you didn’t mean it.”
“I hope so. I know he’s trying, but I’m worried about Levi. He hasn’t been responding much to my calls or messages.”
“He has a life. It’s his senior year and he’s enjoying it.”
“I know that. I just miss my brother.”
“Invite him here!” Her voice squeaks as she gets excited. “The only thing better than a high school party is a college party when you’re in high school.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, and it’s not like we go to parties very often.”
“True, but we should. Invite him up one weekend and we’ll show him around campus. Maybe get him excited about higher education.”
“The only higher education you’re referring to is the kind that he doesn’t need. He’s back on the team and on a good path. Let’s keep it that way.”
“You’re not a fun big sister. I think you should at least extend the invite.”
“It would be nice to have him around for the weekend.”
Willow agrees as she adds, “Parker can give him a campus-life tour.”
“We’ll see.”
Parker would be the best option, but I’m still not sure about having Levi here. I doubt he’d accept the invite anyway. He barely responds to my messages as it is, but I guess it’s worth a shot.
We finally stop chatting and turn our attention to studying, but I don’t get much accomplished. As I’m walking to my next class, my phone rings and I see my old high school’s contact flash on the screen. My stomach drops while my mind races through every bad reason they would be calling me.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Sadie. It’s Dee from Staffordsville High School. How are you doing?”
“I’m good, Mrs. Dee.”
“I’ve been trying to reach your dad for a few days but can’t get in touch with him.” I hear the calmness in her voice which makes me relax a little. There’s still a reason my former AP is calling me after being unsuccessful in reaching my dad.
“I haven’t talked to him today. Is there something I can help you with? Is Levi okay?”
“Sweetie, I’m a bit concerned about him.”
“Why’s that?”<
br />
“He’s missed almost every day since school has started back. I was hoping to check in with your dad and make sure all was well at home.”
“Dad said he was back on the team. He’s been going to practice.”
“No, sweetie. I’m afraid not. Coach tried to get him back on the team this year, but Levi wasn’t having it.”
“Oh.” I feel silly at the response and at the fact that I’m so clueless about what’s going on with my brother.
“Just have your dad give me a call so we can get Levi on track. At this rate, he’ll be repeating his senior year, and it’s only the second full week of school.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply as we say our goodbyes and hang up the phone. I immediately call Levi which, unsurprisingly, goes unanswered. Dialing my dad, I’m met with the same. No answer. I dial the auto shop where the receptionist tells me he’s stepped out for a few minutes but should be back shortly.
I pace the small area in front of the classroom for two minutes. There’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on class. Dad needs to know what’s going on. I need to yell at Levi. Going through the motions is better than not showing up. If he’s not showing up at all for school, he really doesn’t care. What’s most concerning to me is where he’s spending all his time. Dad said he’s been busy with football, yet he isn’t on the team. So what has he been doing?
It takes me no time to make the decision to walk back to my car. I chose a school only an hour away for this reason—I’m close enough to go check when something’s going on and something definitely is.
Hurrying off campus, I make it to my car only to find the same moron from this morning leaning against it again.
“I can’t do this right now,” I say, shouldering him out of the way so I can open the door. The moment it’s open, he pushes it closed. “I’m not going to do this right now.”
“What’s wrong?” The concern in his voice actually makes me laugh.
“Just get out of my way. I need to go.”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Everything and you’re not helping. Now, get out of my way.”
“I can help if you’d let me. I’ll drive you anywhere, or ride with you. Just tell me what you need.”
