by Devney Perry
I slipped in through the metal side door and flicked on the row of lights. The smell of grease and oil and gasoline hit my nose as I weaved past the machinery. An excavator with a claw on its arm. A tractor with a large bucket. A forklift crowding the doorway to the shop’s bathroom.
The florescent light above the cracked mirror flickered, giving me an instant headache. I went to the deep white sink, stained from years of dirty hands and not enough bleach, and twisted on the faucet to fill the can.
It might not be the biggest or brightest bathroom, but it was better than nothing. And we’d cleaned it enough that I didn’t have any issue walking around in my bare feet.
Lou allowed us to use this bathroom. It still smelled like Aria’s shampoo and conditioner from her morning shower. The floral scent clung to the air and I breathed it in as the can filled.
The shower stall was just large enough to stand in and wash under the silver head. There wasn’t even a curtain to separate it from the rest of the bathroom. But a shower every day made this place livable. It kept the dirt from building up. It kept my honey-blond hair from hanging limp to my waist.
Most days, I braided it to keep it out of my face, but at night, when I lay down on my pillow, it was a comfort to know that at least my hair was clean.
With the can filled, I left the bathroom, shutting off the light behind me. Then I retreated through the shop toward the door, only to have it whip open just as I reached for the handle.
Water sloshed out of the watering can, soaking the toes of my shoes.
“Shit. Sorry.” Karson stepped back, holding the door for me. “I didn’t know you were in there.”
“That’s okay.” My heart raced and my voice was breathy. Because, holy abs, he was shirtless.
No shirt. None. I was staring at a bare chest, naked arms and a fantastic belly button, which wasn’t actually all that interesting, but beneath it a line of dark hair disappeared beneath the gray towel wrapped around his waist. The whole image was . . . wow.
Don’t stare. Don’t stare.
My mantra this year.
I dropped my gaze, pretending to inspect my wet shoe.
This wasn’t entirely new. I’d seen Karson without a shirt on before, but it hadn’t been for a while. And back then, he’d belonged to Londyn. It had been easier to pretend I wasn’t head over heels for the guy when his girlfriend had always been nearby.
Now it was impossible.
He was lean, we were all lean, but Karson was cut too. His chest was broad, his stomach hard and flat. There was a V just where the terry cloth circled his hips.
My mouth went dry thinking about the slight bulge beneath that towel. The flush in my cheeks felt hot and red.
Oh my God. I sucked at this. How was I supposed to hide my crush on Karson when he walked around in nothing but a towel?
“I . . .” I swallowed hard and stepped through the open door, moving past him, careful to keep a wide berth. “I’ll get out of your way.”
“You’re not in my way.”
I gave him a small smile, then dropped my chin to my chest and watched every one of my steps as I scurried away, only daring to look back when I heard the shop door close.
“Ugh,” I groaned, looking up to the blue sky. “What is wrong with me?”
Karson was never going to like me. Ever. He was in love with Londyn. The two of them had lived together in the Cadillac for years. She might have left for Montana with Gemma and Katherine, but that didn’t mean Karson would ever want me instead.
Londyn, with her silky blond hair three shades lighter than my own. Londyn, with her pretty smile and rich green eyes. Karson and Londyn. He loved her. He’d had sex with her. I’d heard them once, giggling and kissing. Then the Cadillac had started to rock, and I’d had to sleep with the pillow over my face to block out the noise and hide my tears from Aria.
He wanted Londyn, not me.
The only reason Karson was still here at the junkyard was because he saw Aria and me as little sisters. He’d stayed to watch out for us even though he’d just turned nineteen and by all rights should have left over a year ago.
Like Londyn, Gemma and Katherine.
The girls had done exactly what Aria and I would be doing in sixty-one days. The day they were all eighteen, they’d hopped on a bus destined for Montana. Katherine had found them housekeeping jobs at a resort or ranch or something.
But Karson had stayed, saying it wasn’t safe for Aria and me to be here alone.
He wasn’t wrong.
It would just be easier if I didn’t have this epic, ridiculous crush on a guy who was never, ever, ever going to like me. Karson probably thought I was a freak. As the months went on, it got harder and harder to make eye contact as we talked. Then there were the times that I stuttered like a moron. Example: today.
“Great, Clara. Just great,” I huffed as I reached the truck and Aria’s plants.
Whereas I’d spent my extra change on books, Aria had splurged on a hand trowel and seed packets. How she got anything to grow in the dry, hard-packed dirt of the junkyard was a mystery, but the greenery proved it possible.
She’d planted cosmos and morning glories. She had Shasta daisies and sweet potato vines. I’d water them all, grateful for their color to brighten our temporary home.
The watering can was empty too soon, and I’d need to take a few more trips to the bathroom for refills, but I climbed into the truck instead. Once Karson was showered and dressed, I’d venture out. In the meantime, I’d spend my morning studying.
And do my best to forget about the definition in Karson’s arms and the gold and green sparkle in his hazel eyes.
I kicked off my shoes, leaving them by the sliding door we left up most days to let in the fresh air. Then I made myself comfortable on my bedroll, which was just a sleeping bag that had lost most of its fluff over the years. It was still warm, combined with the fleece blanket I draped on top, but even the foam cushion under the covers didn’t hide the fact that we were sleeping on a metal floor.
My GED study guide rested on top of the wheel well. I grabbed it, cracking it to the section where I’d left off last, and began hammering through practice questions.
I was in the middle of a language arts section when a knock came on the wall.
“Hey.” Karson vaulted into the truck, fully clothed.
I forced a smile to hide my disappointment.
“Brought you a banana,” he said. “I just bought a bunch yesterday. Thought you might want one.”
“Thanks.” I took it as he handed it over.
“You’re welcome.” He sat down across from me on Aria’s bed, his long legs eating up the floor space between us. “How’s studying going?”
“Okay.” I ran my hand over the guidebook’s page.
Karson had gotten me this book. I’d told him that I wanted to get my GED after we left the junkyard and two days later, he’d brought this home. It was new, unlike the used books I could afford. The cover was glossy. The page corners were crisp and square, meaning it hadn’t been cheap.
We spent our money on necessities. Food. Clothing. Blankets. Toiletries. Not GED study guides.
I knew he’d stolen it. He hadn’t admitted it, but there’d been no receipt and it hadn’t come in a plastic sack. It wasn’t the first time he’d stolen, and I doubted it would be the last. I’d never forget the first time I’d watched him palm an apple from the grocery store and start eating it in the aisles. He’d dropped the core into a garbage can before we’d gone through checkout, no one the wiser.
Sure, it bugged me a little. Aria and I didn’t steal. There was a pinprick of guilt when I cracked the book’s pages, but it was also a gift. A gift from Karson for my future. I’d been so touched by his thoughtfulness that I’d cried after he’d dropped it off—that was before I’d realized it had likely been shoplifted.
We all did what we had to do.
I shut the book and ripped open the banana’s peel. I was hungry and wouldn’t
turn down food, but someday, I would never eat a banana again. The same was true for granola bars and canned green beans. Peanut butter and honey sandwiches too.
When Londyn had lived here, she’d worked at a pizza place. It was the only thing we’d eaten a lot of that I hadn’t completely lost the taste for. Though I never craved it.
“What are you doing today?” I asked as I chewed.
“Nothing. I’m bored. Are you working?”
“Nope.” I took another bite and almost gagged. Freaking bananas. I hadn’t liked them before coming here either.
“Want to play cards?” he asked.
I shrugged, trying to hide my excitement at time alone with Karson. “Sure.”
An hour later, we’d moved from my place to his, and I was kicking his ass at gin rummy. “Gin.”
“Gah.” He tossed his cards onto the discard pile. “We need a new game.”
I giggled and collected the deck. The edges were worn and gray. The nine of clubs had a noticeable bend. “Poker?”
“Yeah.” He stood and disappeared into the other section of the tent, returning with a little cup of toothpicks. We didn’t have money to gamble or actual poker chips, but toothpicks worked fine.
After Gemma and Katherine had left, their tent slash fort had been unoccupied. The structure was a collection of metal sheets and tarps that Gemma had engineered into a shelter.
For a guy who stood over six feet tall, it made sense for Karson to get out of the cramped backseat of the Cadillac. He’d moved in here, taking up Gemma’s old room. The common area had lost some of its life without the girls here. Katherine’s tiny paintings on the wall weren’t as bright as they used to be.
“What do you think will happen to this place when we all leave?” I asked Karson, shuffling the cards.
He resumed his seat across from me, leaning against one of the makeshift walls. “I don’t know. Probably nothing, knowing Lou.”
Lou had sectioned off the junkyard. His house, the shop and the area where we lived was off-limits to customers. Whether it had always been like that I wasn’t sure, but from the time Karson had come here, Lou had all but given us free rein of our small portion of the yard.
Beyond his shack swam a sea of rusted cars and old parts. People would come in during the day and rummage through the piles. Lou would emerge to show them around, always careful to keep them away from our area.
“What do you think will happen to Lou?”
Karson lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know that either.”
“Will you come back here? After you leave?”
“Maybe. You?”
“Maybe.” Maybe not.
Karson pulled a toothpick from the cup and rolled it between his fingers. The movement was mesmerizing, much like his face. He’d shaved today. The dark stubble that matched the color of his hair was gone from his cheeks and jaw. It made his lips seem softer. His smile wider.
I caught myself staring and tore my eyes away to focus on the cards. “Five-card draw? Or hold ’em?”
“Hold ’em.”
We used to have poker tournaments in this room, when the girls were here. “Do you miss them? Londyn and Gemma and Katherine.”
“Sure.” He counted toothpicks, handing me a handful of twenty. “Don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.” I didn’t miss seeing him kiss Londyn, but otherwise, yes.
They were my friends. Londyn was the reason we’d found the junkyard in the first place. We’d lived in the same trailer park and after she’d run away from her junkie parents, we’d tracked her down. A couple of the kids who’d worked with her at a pizza parlor had known that she’d been hanging out at the junkyard during the day, ditching school. Though they hadn’t known she’d been living here too.
“Do you think we’ll ever see them again?” I asked.
“Honestly? No.” He looked up and the gentle smile he gave me nearly broke my heart. “I mean, maybe someday. But I doubt it.”
“Even Londyn?” The question slipped out before I could swallow the words. I knew they’d broken up. Clean. As friends. But maybe he hoped to see her again one day. Maybe he’d continue on to Montana when our sixty-one days were up.
“Yeah. Londyn too.” Karson gave me another smile. One that made me want to scream. It wasn’t his playful smirk or his wide grin when he thought something was funny. It was the sweet smile, for a little sister.
Kill me now.
I dealt the cards and focused on the game, winning the first five hands in a row. When Karson was down to three toothpicks, he went all in on a bluff. I called it.
Game over.
“Damn.” He laughed. “Not my day for cards. Let’s do something else.”
“Okay. What?”
“Feel like going for a walk? I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs.”
I pushed up off the ground, brushing off my jeans. Then I followed him outside and through the junkyard, toward the ten-foot chain-link fence that had a row of barbed wire on top.
Lou didn’t like people in his space. He’d erected the fence to keep them out.
We were the exception.
The main entrance had two large gates set on wheels. Lou kept a chain and padlock around them unless he was expecting a customer. The PRIVATE PROPERTY sign hung below another that read MUST CALL FIRST.
But there was another entrance, a small gate that was hidden from the road and bordered by an old car. Karson had discovered it his first night at the junkyard years ago. To anyone passing by, it looked blocked. But the gate opened enough for us to squeeze in and out. Some days, we strolled through the main entrance if Lou had gotten up and unchained the lock. But mostly, we used the side gate.
Once on the road to town, we settled into an easy pace on the asphalt. There were no sidewalks bordering the one-mile stretch of pavement. Or what we assumed was one mile. None of us knew for sure, but before Karson had dropped out of school and run away, he’d been able to run a mile in under six minutes. One day, bored, he’d run the road as a test.
The junkyard was on the outskirts of Temecula, lending it privacy. The closest neighbor was halfway down the road and even then, the overgrown trees and tall fence hid the house and its occupants from view. Or maybe . . .
“Do you think they planted all the trees in an attempt to block out the junkyard?” I asked Karson as we walked past the house.
He chuckled. “Definitely. Wouldn’t you?”
“Totally.” I laughed. “So where are we going?”
“Where do you want to go?”
Anywhere with you. “I don’t care. I’m up for whatever.”
“How about the movie theater?”
“Last time we tried to sneak in we got caught. And you got into a fight.”
“That guy was a fucking asshole, Clara. He shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”
It hadn’t been a big deal. The theater manager had taken my arm and pulled me toward the exit. He’d literally been trying to throw me out.
Except the moment he’d touched me, Karson had exploded. He’d punched the manager so fast I’d barely registered his fist flying through the air before the loud crack of knuckles hitting jawbone.
As the manager had collapsed onto the floor, another employee, a tall, lanky kid, had rushed Karson. Those two had shoved and grappled and traded a couple of hits until Karson had landed another solid punch to the nose—I’d never seen a nose gush so much blood. But it had been enough for us to get away before the cops had shown up.
Karson’s eye had been bruised for a couple of days. It wasn’t the first black eye he’d gotten, and again, I doubted it would be the last. I worried most about the fights he got into when none of us were there to drag him home.
He protected us. But who protected him?
“We’ll go to another theater,” he said.
“That’s a long walk.”
“We’ve got nothing else to do. Besides . . .” Karson reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. “This time
we’ll pay.”
“No, don’t waste it.” I pushed at his arm, urging him to put the cash away. I didn’t want to risk anyone seeing it and coming after him. Not that there was anyone around to see. The two of us were alone on the road.
“It’s settled. We’ll go to a movie. And I’ll have the prettiest girl in the universe in the seat beside me.”
I blushed and elbowed him in the ribs. “Flirt.”
“With you? Always.”
If only that flirting meant something.
It was pointless to argue—and I really wanted to see a movie—so I let Karson treat me to an afternoon of fun. Of normalcy.
In a dark theater, we weren’t a couple of runaway teens who ate popcorn by the fistful because at our home there was no such thing as a microwave. Or asked for extra ice in our shared Coke because both ice and Coke were scarcities.
We were just Karson and Clara. A hot guy. And the girl who wished he saw her as more than a friend.
Still, by the time we left the theater, my smile felt permanent.
We talked about the movie the entire way home, our favorite lines and the twist at the end that Karson had seen coming but I hadn’t. Evening was upon us by the time the junkyard came into view, which was good since I liked to be back by dark. So did Aria. Unless it was absolutely necessary, we didn’t take late shifts and were home before sunset.
“That was fun,” Karson said as we walked through the gate.
“Thank you.” I smiled up at him and soaked in that handsome face. The strong jaw. The straight nose. The high cheekbones. In my romance novels, the heroes always had those traits, and Karson was most definitely my kind of hero.
“Thanks for hanging with me today.” He nudged his arm against mine, escorting me to the truck. “Even if I let you win at cards.”
“Whatever.” I swatted him back.
He chuckled.
The noise must have drawn Aria’s attention because she poked her head out of the truck. “There you are. You didn’t leave a note.”
“Shoot. Sorry.” I winced. We always left notes if our plans changed. It wasn’t like we could text on our nonexistent phones.
