by McKayla Box
It's after school. I've managed to avoid both Shanna and Athena after I get back to school from lunch and I walk to the lot to see if Bridget is around. Her parking spot is still empty. Trevor's truck is nowhere to be found and I'm contemplating the walk home when I hear Brett yell.
He's standing next to the truck, his hands on his hips, staring at the truck like he wants to set it on fire.
I walk over to him. “You okay?”
“Do I look okay?” he snarls. “No, I'm not okay. I'm fucked, as usual.”
“Okay,” I says, surprised by his anger. “What's wrong?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I'm just...screwed.”
“Why?”
He gestures at the truck. “Because this piece of shit won't start again. And Trev and Jake are nowhere to be found to help.”
“Can I?” I ask. “Can I help?”
He looks at me for a second, trying to decide if I'm serious. “Do you know how to drive stick?”
I shake my head.
“Can you learn really fast?” he asks.
“I don't know. I can try.”
“The battery is dead,” he says, waving at the truck again. “I don't have cables, but I can usually get it jumped by popping the clutch.”
“Literally no idea what you're telling me,” I say. “But if you show me what to do, I can try.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Shit. I'm gonna be late.”
“For what?”
He shoves the phone back in his pocket. “Nothing. Okay. Get behind the wheel and I'll show you.”
“You want me to actually drive it?” I ask.
“No, not really,” he says. “Just get in and we'll try it.”
I get into the cab and throw my back in the passenger seat.
He comes up next to me. “Okay. See the three pedals. That extra one on the left is the clutch. It goes all the way down to the floor. Step on it.”
I do, then nod at him.
“What I'm gonna do is push the truck,” he says. “When I start, you're going to keep the clutch all the way down. When I tell you to, you're going to jerk your foot off of it and pop it.” He stares at the hood. “With any luck, it'll start.”
“Just like that?” I ask. “How?”
“Just trust me,” he says. “If it doesn't...I'll fucking figure it out then.” He nods at the wheel. “Go ahead and turn the key so it's on and there's power.”
I fumble with the keys then turn them. The lights on the dashboard flicker to life.
“Okay,” he says. “It's in neutral. Put your foot on the clutch and push all the way down.”
“Do I push anything else?”
He shakes his head. “No. Just keep it down until I tell you to let it go. I've got to get us moving.”
I step on the clutch, then push the pedal all the way to the floor. The wheels shift a little and the truck wobbles backward. Brett groans once, then twice, and then the truck starts moving slowly forward.
“Just keep us going straight,” he yells.
I touch the steering wheel lightly with my hands and keep us in the aisle between the two rows of parked cars. He gets the truck moving quicker now until it almost feels like it's driving itself.
“Now!” he yells.
I slide my foot off the clutch, it pops back up, and the truck jerks to a halt. I lurch forward against the steering wheel. The truck bounces and coughs for a second.
And then I realize it's running.
Brett jogs up to the door. “Awesome. Scoot over.”
I push my bag to the floor and slide over to the passenger side. He climbs in and pulls the door closed behind him. He he moves the gearshift, revs the engine for a moment, then looks at me. “You did it. Thanks.”
“I literally don't know what I did,” I tell him. “But you're welcome. Can I get a ride home as payment for my services?”
He laughs and nods. “I can definitely do that.”
He gets us out of the lot and the truck drives fine.
“Do you have some place you have to be?” I ask. “You seemed kind of out of sorts back there.”
He shrugs, but watches the road. “Yeah, kinda, but it'll be okay. I'll get there.”
“If you can't take me home--”
“No, it's fine,” he says, cutting me off. “Really. It'll be okay.”
“Where do you have to go?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
He glances over at me. “You don't miss a thing, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You've been all over me,” he says. “You picked up immediately that something was wrong and haven't let it go.”
“Is something wrong?”
He coasts to a stop at the stop sign. “Okay, this is totally on the down low, alright?”
“Of course.”
“My dad's having some money trouble,” he says. “He had to fire nearly all of his employees because he's out of money to pay them. So I'm helping him out.”
“Shit,” I say. “I'm sorry. That sucks.”
He nods. “Yeah. It does. He's stressed out. My mom is stressed out. I'm stressed out. He runs a construction company. We've always had money. Always. And now, apparently, we don't.” He pulls away from the stop sign. “Which explains why I'm still driving this piece of shit.”
Nearly every car in the Sunset Beach lot seemed new and expensive. His truck wasn't that old or beat up, but it wasn't the big, sparkling ode to spoiled kids that most of the cars in the lot were. I just thought he liked his truck.
“And now I'm told that college may be a...problem,” he says. “Like, he burned through what was my college account and it's gone. Literally fucking gone.”
“Oh shit,” I say. “I'm so sorry. Wow.”
“And it's just weird, you know?” he says, chewing on a fingernail for a second. “Like I said. We've always had money. We live in a nice house. I've got all this shit I probably don't need. I totally take having all that stuff for granted. And now?” He shakes his head. “I guess it's gone. I don't even know what's happening. I don't know if we have to move. I don't know if I can go to college.” He sighs. “All of it.”
“I'm sorry, Brett,” I say because it's the only thing I can think to say. “I'm really sorry.”
“Thanks,” he says. “So, anyway. I need to get to his office and help him with whatever he needs help with. Paperwork, phone calls, shit like that. And I know if I'm late, he's gonna jump all over me because he's already stressed.”
“You really don't have to take me home,” I tell him.
“We're almost there,” he says. “And you helped me. I owed you.”
“You could've paid up at a different time.”
He shrugs. “It's fine.” He glances at me. “And thanks for letting me unload all that. I guess I needed to. Can't always say that shit to the guys.”
“Anytime,” I tell him. “Really. My life sort of imploded a year ago when my parents divorced and then my dad told me we were moving here. So I get it.”
He nods but doesn't say anything else until he pulls into my driveway. “You and Trev get your shit figured out?”
“I think so,” I tell him, pulling my bag from the floor. “I don't know. I thought I had it all under control when it was just Shanna. Now I've got Athena to worry about.”
He smiles. “You don't have anyone to worry about. It's cool. Trust me.”
I want to trust him. I want what he says to be true. But I'm still having a hard time getting it all straight in my head.
“Thanks,” I say. “I'm trying to be cool with it all. I really am.”
“Athena's a piece of work,” he says. “But you handled Shanna. You can handle her, too.”
I hope he's right.
TWENTY THREE
“You ditched me yesterday,” I say.
It's the next morning and we're on our way to school. Bridget is on time and we've just backed out of my driveway.
She winces as we head down
the street. “I know. I'm sorry.”
“Where were you?” I ask.
“I...I just forgot that I had some place to be,” she says.
“At lunch, too?”
She sighs. “Yeah. Maybe. I don't know.”
“Bridget,” I say. “Talk to me. Tell me what's up.”
“I'm superstitious, alright?” she says. “I don't want to fuck this up.”
“Fuck what up?”
“Whatever...whatever it is I'm doing,” she says. She glances in my direction. “Yes. It's a guy. Same guy I hooked up with the other night. But I'm afraid if I talk about it, I'll jinx it or something.”
“How will you jinx it?” I ask.
“I don't know,” she says, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “I just know that my relationships have always blown up in the past when I get ahead of myself and I don't want to do that this time. That way, if it ends up being nothing, I don't have to take a million questions from people and have them look at me like they feel sorry for me. I hate that shit.” She shakes her head. “I don't ever want to go through that again.”
It's a fair answer, though I'm not totally sold on all of her reasoning yet.
“You know I won't say anything,” I tell her. “You want to tell me anything, I'll keep it right here.”
She brings us to a stop at a red light. “I believe you, Pres. I really do. But I...I'm gonna wait on this one. And I swear I'll get my shit together and no more bailing on you or Gina or Maddie. Because I know that isn't cool.” She pauses. “They stuck with me another time when they didn't have to and I don't want to do that again.”
“Was that the Evan guy?” I ask.
She looks at me. “How do you know about Evan?”
“They told me at lunch,” I explain. “Not in a bad way. I think they're just worried that it could turn into the same thing. But, for real. It wasn't a bad thing. They were filling in the blanks for me and they're worried about you. I am, too.”
“You don't need to be,” she says, smiling. “I promise.”
“Would you tell if I did?” I ask.
The light turns green and we start moving forward. “Probably not.”
We both laugh.
“But this isn't Evan again,” she says. “I'm going slow with it. I like the guy. A lot. But I'm not jumping in with both feet. And, for me, that means keeping everything on the down low.”
I get it. She doesn't want a bunch of nosy people sticking their noses where it doesn't belong, creating drama. Nothing brings down a relationship faster than drama. I can't blame her for wanting to stay quiet about all of it.
“Okay,” I say. “And it's totally cool if you need to see him after school and can't give me a ride. Just let me know. I won't ask questions.” I pause. “Or maybe just one.”
She laughs. “You can ask, I just might not answer. And I won't ditch you. Yesterday was just...there was a window and I went with it.”
“You realize how mysterious you're making all of this sound, right?” I say.
We pull into the drive thru line at the coffee shop. She orders our drinks at the speaker and we pull forward to get them. She doesn't say anything until we pull out and back onto the road.
“You know how easy it is for people to decide they know something before they actually know anything?” she asks.
I stick the straw in my drink and take a long sip. “Yeah. People love to judge.”
“Exactly,” she says. “I mean, I do it sometimes. I try not to, but I do. So I'm not trying to make this sound mysterious. I swear I'm not. But I also don't want people thinking they know anything about me until I know what I think about me.”
“You aren't making any sense,” I tell her. “But maybe I'm still tired.”
She laughs. “Until I decide if I want to be with this guy, I don't want anyone else giving me their opinion. Does that make sense?”
I think about how everyone was telling me to stay away from Trevor. Everyone had a reason and everyone was more than happy to share their opinion with me. I didn't even know him. So I had to fight through all of that to get to know him. And even then, when we were first together, people were telling me it was a mistake. If I'd listened, we wouldn't be together.
So I get what she's saying. She wants to decide for herself about this guy without all of the outside interference.
“Alright,” I say. “I will do my best from asking questions or making you feel guilty for keeping me in the dark. I can't promise to be perfect, though.”
She turns us into the parking lot at school and slides into her parking spot. She turns the key and the car goes quiet. “I don't expect you to be perfect. I just need...a little time. But I promise to not just disappear anymore. That wasn't okay when I did it with Evan, it wasn't okay when I did it yesterday, and I'm not gonna be that shitty friend. I'm going to tell Gina and Maddie that, too.”
“This must be one interesting guy,” I say. “For you to protect it all like this.”
Her eyes twinkle and the corners of her mouth flare upward. “He is.”
TWENTY FOUR
“What does your dad do for Trevor's?” Maddie asks.
We're at lunch and it's all four of us. Bridget has made amends with the other two and the four of us have again decided to bail The Hut in favor of Juanito's. We're at the picnic table with our food and the ocean in the distance.
“That's not random at all,” I say. “My dad's a lawyer. He helps him with contracts and stuff. I don't really know the details because it sounds like the most boring thing in the whole world. Why?”
She frowns. “So, Trevor's dad is an investor, right? One of those guys who takes his money and tries to find the next big thing and invest in it so he can make even more money.”
“You are boring me,” Gina says, making a face. “But Trevor's dad is hot.” She looks at me. “If Trevor ages like that and you stay with him, you'll be having babies for days.”
We all laugh.
“I think you know more about what his dad does than I do,” I say to Maddie. “Trevor doesn't really talk that much about it. There's kinda some tension between them.”
“Well, that's what he does,” Maddie says. “It's venture capitalism.”
Bridget looks at me. “Maddie is going to be the rich one at this table. She likes money, she likes to talk about money, and she has a ridiculous understanding already of economics.”
“I can't even add,” Gina says. “Numbers pain me.”
Maddie makes a face. “Whatever, drama queen.” She looks to me again. “I heard that his dad is working on some big new deal. Some sort of app. I wondered if your dad had said anything.”
“Isn't that, like, illegal?” Bridget asks. “If she did hear something, she can't really tell you, can she?”
Maddie frowns again. “Please. She's not an investor. She's not bound by the SEC bylaws. It would just be hearsay anyway if she knew anything about an IPO.”
We all stare at her for a moment.
“You are the biggest fucking nerd I know,” Gina finally says. “It's a good thing you're hot or you'd never find a boy.”
We all laugh again.
“I'm not interested in boys,” she says. “Only men. Or boys who resemble men.”
“I can't help you,” I tell her. “My dad and I don't really talk about his work. All I know is that he's working like crazy and super busy and barely home.”
“I heard it's some sort of crazy app,” Maddie says.
“How the hell would you hear that?” Gina asks, her mouth full of taco.
“I know things, bitch,” Maddie says. “Okay, fine. My dad was talking about it. I have no idea how he knows. But it's some sort of app like Snap, but has some other stuff it can do and my dad was talking like it might be the next big thing.”
“Because your dad totally uses Snap?” Gina says.
Maddie slaps her arm. “No, but he knows computers and software and money. So when he talks about that shit, I listen. Even if it woul
d make your eyes glaze over.”
“And then some,” Gina says, shaking her head.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “I'm no help.”
Maddie shrugs. “Was worth asking. What's the tension between Trevor and his dad?”
I break a tortilla chip in half. “Not totally sure. I know some of it is that his dad wants him to go into business with him and it doesn't seem like there's any room for a conversation about that. Like, it was decided for him. Trevor hasn't said much, but he seems sort of resigned to it.”
Gina leans back from the table. “Hold up. You're telling me that Trevor Robinson, aka the hottest dude at Sunset, the craziest, most in your face dude at our school, is going to school and is going to end up...in a suit?”
I shrug. “That's what his dad wants and it doesn't sound like Trevor has told him no.”
Bridget makes a face. “That sucks.”
I nod. It does suck. I've tried to bring it up several times with Trevor, but he always moves away from the subject. I don't want to push him, but I know that it's weighing on him more than he tells me.
“I didn't think anyone could tell that kid what to do,” Maddie says. “Wow.”
“Like I said. I don't know for sure,” I tell them. “He won't talk about it with me. But I know that when his dad brings it up, Trevor totally stops talking.”
“I can't see him wearing a suit,” Gina says. “I mean, before you came along Presley, I only imagined him naked.”
We all laugh.
“I don't do that anymore, though,” she says. “I don't want to be disrespectful.”
We all look at her.
“Okay, I still totally do,” she says. “But way less than I used to.” She leans across the table toward me. “It would be super cool if you could, like, get us some pictures.”
We all howl with laughter.
TWENTY FIVE
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Not telling,” Trevor says.
We're in my driveway and I'm sitting behind him on the motorcycle. It's Friday night. My dad is working late. I got home from school, took a shower, ate a quick dinner, and then got ready for Trevor. He's five minutes late getting there and now I'm wondering where he's taking me.