Fabricating Jada

by Marie, Vanessa

  "The hell they wouldn't!” she exclaimed. "Hell, I want it."

  "Well, you can't have it. It's not done. Now, go away so I can scarf some food and finish up before the circus gets back." I shot her a small smile.

  DeAnna bowed. Actually freaking bowed to me before she turned to leave, her heels clicking across the concrete floor.

  "Hey, DeAnna?"

  She turned to look at me from the doorway. "Yeah?"

  "Thanks for the Advil and the company. I appreciate it."

  She shot me a wink. "It was my pleasure."

  I wasn't really sure what everyone else was building—I mean, seriously. I couldn't tell. There were abstract art pieces—if you were being generous and wanted to call them that. One guy, I think his name was Chaz, was working on a diamond plate vase. It was pretty cool looking, and I wouldn't mind having it for myself. Another guy, Pete I think I heard someone call him, was making what looked like a wine rack. The rest of them I couldn't see or figure out what they were making based on where they were by the end of the day.

  "Bring all of your projects up and set them on the front bench before you leave and then clean up your work benches. I'll assign you a locker when you're finished so you can leave your tools here or anything else you need to for the duration of the class," Miguel said as he pushed the cart with the welders to the corner of the room.

  I cleaned up my mess and set my box on the table with care. It was basically finished on the outside. When I got home I was going to see if I could find a velvet scrap to dress up the inside and attach it the following day.

  "That's pretty sweet, Valley Girl," Miguel whispered over my shoulder.

  There was something about Miguel that I liked. I don't know if it was his swagger, the easy confidence that oozed out of him, or if it was just because he was so handsome. He brought out my feisty side too, but not in the same way Jesse did. "You know, I'm not from the Valley. I live in Long Beach."

  "Ohh, so you're one of those girls." His mouth fell into an O.

  Narrowing my eyes, not sure what the heck he was referring to, I retorted, "What are you babbling about?"

  "The rich kind who pretends to slum it with the rest of us."

  I snorted. Hand over mouth, snortage happened. "Not even close." I waved him closer to me and he took the bait. Of course he did. The look on his face screamed he wanted to know more. As if I was going to spill a huge secret. The thing was, it wasn't a secret at all. Or anything I was ashamed of.

  "Want to know a secret?" I whispered when he was close enough for my breath to touch his cheek.

  His eyes shot to mine, sparkling with delight. "Tell me."

  My lips twisted into a rueful smile. "I live in a trailer park."

  Miguel reared back and looked at me. I mean, really looked at me. Studied me from head to toe before saying, "No shit? You're trailer trash too?"

  Did he just call me trailer trash? Wait … too?

  He held his hand up for a high five. I watched him with skepticism. "Too?"

  "Pfft. Girl, I live at Clear Shores RV Park. It's like a house with a pool that I don't have to clean. I love it and I get to keep the rest of my money for important shit. Like my cars. Give me a slap, don't leave me hanging."

  I laughed and slapped his hand.

  Dropping his mouth to my ear he lowered his voice. "You looked like you were about to deck me there for a minute."

  That made me laugh harder and rest a hand on his bicep. He flexed. Of course he flexed.

  "You like that don't ya? Lots more where that came from."

  I shook my head at him. "You're too much. I guess my face is more readable than I thought it was. The only person I ever let call me trailer trash is my best friend and that's because she lives in an RV park too and we make fun of each other."

  Miguel glanced behind me and stood a little straighter. "I'll just say this, your face is like a book. Easy to read. So is your body language. I could tell you had fire in you the second I saw you in the hallway being a naughty little minx."

  "Crap," I muttered. So much for that theory. After staring off into space for a moment, my eyes darted to his. "Hey, why didn't you rat me out to Jesse and DeAnna when you caught me this morning anyway?"

  He shrugged a lazy shrug, with his lips pouted out ever so slightly. "I knew there was something about you that I liked right away." He nudged me with his elbow, shooting me his devilish smile. "Besides, how would my plan of making you the future Mrs. Nunez go if I'd narked on you?"

  My eyes widened in surprise before I burst into laughter. "I guess it wouldn't have been a good start."

  Jesse's gravely bark interrupted our conversation. "If you two are done playing kiss ass, we have a shop to clean before we can leave. When you're done for the day—get lost."

  I narrowed my eyes at Jesse but managed to keep my mouth closed and turned back to Miguel. "Can I get a locker, please … Mr. Nunez?"

  He lifted a dark brow at me while his eyes danced with delight. "Sure thing, Mrs. Nunez." He jotted down a few numbers on a sheet of paper and passed it to me.

  "Thank you."

  Miguel's response was a wink. Jesse glowered at us both. I wasn't sure what their relationship was or how close they were, but Miguel didn't seem perturbed in the slightest by Jesse's perpetual bad mood. "Anything for you, Valley Girl."

  "For the love of God. Enough. Do you know how to get back to the locker room or do you need someone to hold your hand and show you the way to that too?" Jesse barked at me.

  I cut my eyes to him. "I can find it just fine." Glancing at Miguel, I dipped my chin. "Thanks, Miguel."

  He lifted his chin to me and I left, not giving a second glance in Jesse's direction.

  "I don't like the way this looks, at all, Jada. This burn is really, really bad." Carter's brows knitted together as she stared down at my arm.

  I'd gone straight to her house after class was over because it was easier. Otherwise she would have just showed up at mine wanting details, and I didn't feel like dealing with an audience. Like my parents.

  I ducked my head, knowing how bad it was. "There's not much I can do about it now."

  Flustered, she stared up at the ceiling with her hands on her hips. "Well, you have to make sure you keep it clean and covered while you're there, so it doesn't get infected and in the evenings it needs to air out."

  "How do you know all of this?" I asked, my face pensive. If she answered with she read it on the internet, I was going to punch her in the boob.

  Carter's green gaze cut to mine. "I called my cousin Jill after you texted me earlier. She's an ER nurse and I told her the situation. I wanted to have the best information possible to give you, because Lord knows you'd just rub some dirt on it and think it would be all right."

  I bobbed my head in agreement. That was exactly how my train of thought had gone. "So—"

  "Do you want to get gangrene and have your arm fall off? Wait—then you could basically be like Cinder—but with a mechanical arm instead of a mechanical leg. You'd be a cyborg. My best friend the cyborg. I wonder if that means that Prince Kai would actually be Jesse?"

  Her rant made no sense to me. At all. Then again she tended to go on nonsensical ramblings about fictional things often. "What the heck are you blabbering about?"

  "Cinder? You don't know who Cinder is?" Her mouth fell open in horror the same way it did every time I didn't recognize one of the characters from her books.

  I shrugged. "No, why would I?"

  She just stared at me like I was stupid. "Um, hello. Three words." She held up one finger with each word. "Female. Cyborg. Mechanic."

  That got my attention. "That actually sounds interesting."

  Carter waved her hand dismissing me. "It doesn't matter, it's off topic."

  "Then why'd you even bring it up?" I yelled at her.

  Again, she gave me the you're an idiot exasperated expression she used often. "Because, dummy. You need to take care of your arm so you don't end up like her. Got it?"r />
  I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Mom."

  Pointing at me, she tossed me my phone from the couch. "Speaking of—just tell her you're staying here for a few days because I'm lonely or some shit. At least until your arm heals a little better. You know damn well she will freak out if she sees it and your dad will wheel his chair up there and try to castrate Jesse for hurting you."

  "Jesse didn't do it." Why I was defending him, I had no idea.

  She waved her hand dismissively again. The girl couldn't talk without her arms. I swear if I taped them to her sides she'd be speechless. "That's beside the point. You're here all the time after work anyway. Just tell them with the long hours on the bus or whatever, my house is closer and you wanted to stay here for the week for an extra half hour of sleep or something."

  It was my turn to stare at her like she was stupid. My eyes narrowed into slits, as my lips twisted to the side. "Carter, I'm twenty-three … If I don't want to go home, I don't have to go home. I let them know where I'm at for peace of mind and out of courtesy, not permission."

  She snorted.

  I was an adult, dang-it.

  Later that night, I called my mom and told her I was staying at Carter's because it was closer to Jesse's shop.

  Carter's trailer was nicer than most apartments. She'd bought it with the money her gran had left her after she passed. She also worked as the manager at the fro-yo shop to support her other needs while she took classes a few days a week to finish her degree. I admired her determination to be independent and to succeed.

  "Hooker, take my car. You can drop me off at campus early on your way and I can catch the bus to work, or have someone pick me up," she offered, holding out her keys as I was ready to walk out the door to my bus stop.

  I waved her away. "No. I told you last night I wasn't doing it. So stop hounding me."

  She huffed when she looked at my serious expression. The one that said I wasn't going to budge no matter how much she badgered me.

  "Fine. Just text me when you get there so I know you haven't been put in the pocket of a serial rapist."

  "Har, har. Not funny."

  She held her hands out, palms facing me. "Don't get mad at me because you’re small enough to put in my pocket, Polly."

  "Oh, bite me."

  "I'd love to, but your arm looks like someone already took a hunk out of it!" she yelled behind me as I walked down the steps of her trailer.

  My response was giving her the finger over my shoulder. Her laugh followed me down the road. It was a generous offer to take her car, but I couldn't accept. I didn't want to be responsible for her missing a class or being late to work if the bus broke down or was running late. I was used to padding my schedule for extra time, she wasn't.

  While I was waiting for my bus to show up, my phone buzzed. I expected it to be Carter but it was my mom.

  Mom: Can you ask them when they’re going to cash that check by any chance?

  I swallowed dryly as I typed out my response.

  Me: Yeah. Why, is everything okay?

  Dread settled in the pit of my stomach while I waited for her to answer.

  Mom: Everything’s fine. I just wanted to make sure everything transferred from savings to checking before it cleared. That’s all.

  Me: Okay, I’ll ask.

  Mom: Have a good day, love you.

  Me: Love you too.

  I didn't mind the bus rides. It gave me time to decompress and just be. I pushed the thoughts of money from my mind and tried to relax. At the first stop once we got off the interstate, a pregnant mom and her young son got on the bus. I was pretty sure I recognized them from the ride the day before. There was nowhere left to sit. She looked uncomfortable and I wasn't sure how long they were riding, but there was no way I was going to make her stand.

  Getting out of my seat, I gestured to it. "You can sit here."

  She smiled and blew out a breath of relief. "Thank you so much."

  "No problem."

  I held on to the overhead bar for balance and read the side of my magazine that wasn't folded over. A few moments later, I felt a tap on my thigh. I looked down to see a pair of chocolate eyes peering up at me. "Hey, lady?"

  "Yeah, bud?"

  "Quinten, don't bother that nice lady," his mother hissed at him and gave me an apologetic smile.

  I smiled at her and turned my attention back to him. "It's okay, really."

  "What happened to your arm?"

  It was a question I was sure to get a lot. So I practiced my answer on this six-year-old kid. "I burned it in a freak accident."

  "That sucks. Why are you reading a car magazine?" His face was earnest with interest.

  "Because I like them," I explained with a shrug.

  He nodded as if the simple explanation made all the sense in the world to him. "I like them too. When I'm big, I'm gonna build them just like Jesse Valentine."

  I choked. My eyes went wide with surprise.

  "Are you okay, lady?"

  Nodding, I cleared my throat. "Yeah, I'm okay. You like Jesse Valentine, huh?"

  I glanced from him to his mom. Both nodded in succession. His more excited than hers, and for good reason.

  Quinten beamed. "Yup. He's super rad. Except, I want to build a low rider that I can take to competitions like my uncle."

  I'd just passed an Impala a few pages before he would have liked and flipped back to it before showing him. "Like this?"

  His smile grew, along with his excitement as he whipped around and thrust the magazine in his mom's face. The rest of the ride, we talked about cars and what we'd build if we had a million dollars. It was a lot of fun. My stop came before theirs; Quinten perked up and glued his face to the window behind his mother as we pulled up to the stop. "Do you know where we are?" he asked in awe.

  "Sure do," I said with a wink.

  He turned to look at me over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes.

  I held my magazine out to him, he took it with hesitation. "Hold on to that for me, will ya?"

  His mom's eyes filled with tears. "He doesn't need it, but thank you."

  I dipped my chin in a nod. "If he's going to know what kind of car he's going to build when he grows up, he'll need something to dream about."

  Tears fell down his mom's glowing face. "Thank you. We were having a rough morning and you made it better."

  "Any time."

  Quinten's eyes widened as I stepped off the bus, and his gaze followed me as I walked to the famous spiderwebbed gate and walked through it. I waved as I watched his mouth fall open. I'm sure to a six-year-old kid, my walking into the shop seemed like I was a more important person than I really was.

  I wanted to be prepared if I saw Quinten again, so I headed to DeAnna's office. Her door was open, and the smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air.

  I knocked on the frame and smiled when she raised her eyes to meet mine.

  "Hey, how are you? How's your arm?" The corner of her mouth hooked into a smile.

  I glanced down at my arm and grimaced. "Well, it's still attached, so that's good right?"

  "Attached is a good thing. Yes." Her face twisted with confusion. "You're here awfully early, do you want some coffee?"

  She didn't have to ask me twice as I stepped into her office. "I'd love some. My bus route to get here only runs certain times, so it's either be really early or late."

  DeAnna walked over to the Keurig in the corner of her office. "I have like twenty different kinds of pods, what's your poison?"

  "Any kind of breakfast blend if you have it. I stayed at my best friend's place last night and Carter isn't exactly a coffee person. So, I had to go without—you're a godsend," I said as I sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk as my drink brewed.

  "Then I think you need to teach Carter the error of his ways."

  I laughed. Everyone always assumed Carter was a guy, and before I had a chance to correct her on her assumption Jesse walked in.

  "Hey, Dee—" His eyes zeroed in
on me like a hawk watching its prey. "Why the hell are you always in every room I walk into?" he snapped.

  "Why are you always such a jerk? It could be a question to ask the universe." I glared at him.

  His gaze was hooded before DeAnna's bark of laughter interrupted our back and forth, forcing his menacing glare in her direction.

  "What do you want, Jesse?"

  He threw his arms in the air. "Fuck, I don't even remember now." And just like that he was gone.

  All I could do was shake my head. The man had more mood swings than Carter and I during Shark Week.

  I moved in slow motion to my cup of coffee which had finished brewing and took a tentative sip.

  "I've never seen him get as worked up around someone as he does around you. You'll have to excuse me for finding this as amusing as I do. It's not often someone gets under my brother's skin."

  I rolled my eyes. Being the person that grated on another person's nerves on sight wasn't exactly a compliment. "So you've said," I ground out through gritted teeth.

  She waved me back over to sit down. "Don't worry about him. He probably woke up on the wrong side of his bed."

  I wondered what his bed would look like. What his room would look like. And the only thing that came to mind was a mattress on the floor with an unmade bed. I was about as unimaginative as they came when it came to stuff like that.

  "No offense, but the last thing I want to think about is your brother in bed."

  Lies. All. Lies. If my imagination worked properly when it came to men, I'd be thinking about him naked.

  "That is a relief, let me tell you." DeAnna shook her head as if she was clearing her head of bad memories.

  For some strange reason, at that moment, my mom's question about the money and Quinten's face popped into my mind. "Hey, DeAnna … I have kind of a strange question for you."

  The smile she was wearing fell a bit. "Well, with the amount of strange questions I've asked you in the last few days I'd say you're due one or two. What's up?"

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to ask without it sounding weird.