by Deanna Roy
I walked around the side to check the screw mounts. They were aligned. “Just putting the last bolts in.”
“Good, ’cause the owner’s here to pick it up already, and I don’t think I can endure that woman one more minute.”
I chuckled. “Bud menaced by a woman. Never thought I’d see it.”
He looked under the hood as I locked in the bolts. “I don’t see anything damaged. She got lucky.”
The sockets were solid, so I backed away from the engine. “She should be good to go.”
“Start her up. Let’s take a listen.”
I hopped in the seat again and fired up the motor. The clunk was gone. Bud dropped the hood and came around. “She’s good. Pull it around.”
By the time I came back into the office, Bud was leading an old lady to the door. “And here’s the man who got her ready for you, Mrs. Peters.”
I handed her the keys. “Ma’am, you must live near some rough roads.”
“Oh, posh,” she said. “I live in La Jolla. I just hate speed bumps.”
Bud coughed to hide his laugh and I kept a poker face. “Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you again in about twenty thousand miles,” I said.
“Works for me!” She winked, the blue eye shadow over her eyes as bright as a peacock’s feather. “Maybe I’ll mess up something else just to come back and get another gander at you!”
Bud passed her a clipboard. “Sign here, Mrs. Peters.”
I turned to head back to the bays, but the woman grabbed me by the arm. “It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of you if you didn’t see me to my car and make sure it is in good working order, now would it?”
Bud waved me on. “Start it up for her, Gavin.”
Mrs. Peters continued to hang on my elbow as I opened the door and led her out to the Camaro, all red and sparkling in the late afternoon sun. “What a grand day!” she said. “I don’t guess I can sneak you away for a drive!”
I pictured her wrecked and broken motor mount and imagined jumping creek beds with Mrs. Peters behind the wheel, her white hair flying. “I’m afraid I am much needed here.”
“Well, poo.” She waited by the car as I opened the door, then she slid inside. “Let’s see what she’s got.”
I handed her the keys and winced as she cranked the motor, stomping the gas so the engine revved loud enough to make people across the street turn to look. I leaned in the open door. “You might want to take it easy.”
“This car is going be around longer than I am!” she shouted over the roar. “Life is short. Go after what you love and ride it as hard as you can!”
I barely managed to close the door and jump out of the way before she shot backward across the parking lot, then slammed it into drive and careened past me again, heading for the exit.
That woman was going to kill someone. Still, I had to laugh as I headed back inside. Bud was stuffing her papers in a file folder. “She’ll be back. Drivers like her mean good money for us.” He turned around. “Let me guess, she gave you some sort of advice about life being short, and she was about to die?”
“Yeah.” Of course, that got me thinking about Corabelle. Hell, everything did.
“She’s been saying that for a decade. She’s going to outlive us all.” He glanced at the clock. “You can go ahead and head out. I’m sure whatever kept you all morning is still nagging at you now.”
I suppressed a smart-ass reply. “All right, Bud. See you tomorrow.” I wondered where Corabelle might be, at work still, or on campus. Maybe I could get that pink-haired girl to tell me where she lived.
I should leave her alone. I knew it. But something in me just couldn’t let it go.
Chapter 13: Corabelle
I crossed the quad, anxiety rising as the engineering building grew close. Gavin would be in there, just a few seats down. The two feelings for him warred inside me. Anger that he’d called me easy, when I hadn’t been with anyone but him. And an urgency to get him alone, to feel, if only for a little while, the way we had when we were young and innocent of all the ways life could fail us.
The stairwell echoed with my footsteps, and I couldn’t help but run my hand over the part of the rail where Gavin caught me trying to black out. I had to get control of that now. Gavin showing up again was the sign that my little fits of crazy had to end. I needed some other way to cope.
I thought I’d be able to sneak in close to the start of class and slip into my chair without having to talk to him. But Gavin was waiting outside the door, his lab assignment in his hand. He looked more amazing than ever. Every detail about him was seared into me, the blue T-shirt fitting across his chest and arms, the dark stubble on his jaw, the sideburn near his ear.
He held out the paper. “You turned this in for me?”
I nodded, grasping hard on the strap of my backpack.
“Why?”
“I felt bad that I upset you.” I drew in a deep breath. “By talking about Finn.”
It was so hard to say his name. And not easier on Gavin to hear it. I could see it in how his eyebrows drew together.
A couple other students cut between us to enter the door. “Thank you.” He hesitated. “Can I see you later?”
Panic rose from my belly. “No. I can’t. Please, Gavin. It’s too hard.”
He pressed his lips together. “This isn’t over.”
“It is. It has to be.”
He whipped around and went back in the room.
I leaned against the wall, eyes on the ceiling, trying to pull myself together. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t be with him. There was too much past, and I was barely holding it together before he showed up.
Unless maybe Austin really could help. He seemed so much easier to manage than Gavin, and my secrets had no power with him.
I pushed away from the wall and hurried to my seat, trying not to look Gavin’s way. While the professor talked about supernovas, I tapped out an e-mail to Austin on my iPad. “Are you on campus today? I get out of Jacobs Hall at 10. Corabelle.”
I could feel Gavin’s eyes on me as I took notes and tried to focus, already regretting involving an innocent boy to make life easier for me. I stole a guilty glance down the row. Gavin was still watching, intense and brooding. His eyes dropped to the strap of my tank top, and I knew he was remembering the moment at the coffee shop.
Fire licked through me again, and I focused back on the screen. Gavin always had that effect on me.
After that first kissing session in my closet, we were crazy with it. Every chance we got, we pressed against each other feverishly. When a movie or television show showed a couple clutching each other, we’d stop everything to pay attention, only to act the scene out later in my room.
The first time Gavin touched me was completely by accident. I’d just started wearing training bras. He teased me about it and threatened to pop the elastic. When he reached for the back, I whirled around and his fingers grazed across my chest.
The touch had been so electric, I almost screamed. Gavin immediately backed away, sure he’d done something wrong. All I really wanted was for him to do it again.
A lot like now. The scene in the dish room had played over and over in my mind all night. Surely Gavin wasn’t the only way to feel so intense. I had always been too afraid of giving any other boy a chance.
My screen popped up with an e-mail notification. Austin. I kept my head down as I opened it. He didn’t have class, but he’d come down anyway. He lived close to campus.
So it was done. I’d engaged him, and I couldn’t just back away. This was for the best.
I suffered through the lecture, taking frenetic notes to avoid looking at Gavin. At last class ended and Jenny bounded over to me. “You haven’t asked me how I am!”
“Oh, that’s right! Star party! How did it go with Lumberjack?” From the corner of my eye I could see Gavin loading up his backpack. I wanted him long gone before I went outside and met up with Austin.
“He was a dream!” Jenny glanced o
ver her shoulder. Robert stood talking to Amy and the third TA. Jenny pulled me toward the door. “I have to tell you about him!”
This would work. As long as Jenny and I were absorbed in a conversation, Gavin would pass on by and I could wait to go outside to meet Austin.
When we were out of earshot of the TAs, Jenny said, “I got him! We’re going out Saturday night!”
“That’s great. Is he okay with you being a student?”
“Rules are made to be broken. We’re discreet.”
Jenny was about as discreet as a fire truck. “You sure about that?”
She hugged her messenger bag to her chest. “Completely. After all the other students left the lab, we stayed up on the roof until midnight!”
“Wow.”
“He kisses just like Westley in The Princess Bride.”
“You kissed him already?”
“Of course!” Jenny slung her strap over her shoulder. “I’m not into taking things slow.” She threaded her arm around mine. “And based on the dish room, neither are you!”
The hall was clear, so I let her lead me down the steps.
“So what about the guy from the coffee shop? You seemed all serious coming from the alley with him despite serving up suds with hunk boy.” Jenny sighed. “I should have been taking notes from you.”
“Austin is meeting me here.”
Jenny halted by the door to the stairwell. “Seriously? Man-meat looked ready to kill him yesterday, and you’re putting them in the same zip code?”
“Gavin’s probably already halfway across town on his Harley by now.”
Jenny tugged on the handle to the stairs. “Your funeral. Or his.”
I winced at the word, refusing to let the image of a powder-blue casket stick in my mind. “It’ll be fine.”
Still, we took our time on the stairs, killing a few more minutes. “Let me scout ahead,” Jenny said. We walked down the hall and approached the main doors. “I’ll come back when the coast is clear.”
“Corabelle?”
I turned to the voice. Austin was coming down the hall.
“Hey,” I said, not sure at all I was doing the right thing. But I’d committed.
“Hey.” He reached out like he would take my hand, then pulled back, closing his fingers around the strap of his pack.
“So you said you live close?” I asked.
He nodded. “You want to go there?”
My face burned. “No! I — it was just conversation.”
Austin laughed a little. “I’m glad you wrote me. I’m glad I could come.”
A few other students passed by us, and we moved to a corner. I relaxed a little. Finally I’d do something like normal girls. Meet a regular guy, have a normal conversation, and just be another college student. This was going to be all right.
Chapter 14: Gavin
I didn’t really want to leave campus. I hung around the door, waiting on Corabelle, but she kept talking to that girl she worked with. Finally I gave up, heading to my Harley. But instead of driving off campus, I decided to go past the engineering building. Maybe I could convince her to take a ride with me.
Corabelle’s pinked-up friend was standing at the entrance, looking around.
I braked in front of her, and she stuck her hip out, all full of attitude.
“You need to roll right on by,” she said.
“Nice to see you again, too.” I pulled off my helmet. “Where’s Corabelle?”
“Not anywhere you can get to her.”
“She and I have a history.”
“Yeah, that was pretty obvious in the dish room.”
I assessed her. She met my gaze pretty steady, not intimidated in the least. “How long have you known her?”
“Since I started working at Cool Beans.”
“You her friend?”
“I’d take her over you.” She jutted her hip out. She was a live wire, completely the opposite of Corabelle.
“Fair enough. I need to be able to contact her.”
The girl laughed. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to give up her number.”
“It’s important.”
“So is her privacy. You look like a stalker to me.” She tossed her hair behind her shoulders.
“I could say I got it from the TA. She’s in my study group. But it’s serious. Corabelle, she —” How did I persuade this girl? “She’s getting upset with me around.”
“That’s not exactly convincing.”
“I’m the only one who can help her.”
She looked back to the door, and I knew Corabelle was still inside.
“All I know is that she’s been hurt by somebody.” She moved in close and poked my shirt. “And I’m figuring after that scene yesterday that the somebody is you.”
“We grew up together.”
“And she wanted to get away from you. That’s why she changed groups. So I don’t think she wants to hear from you.”
“But this guy?”
“Not your business.”
“They been together long?”
“Again, not your business.”
I couldn’t crack this girl. Corabelle would get mad at me for this, but I had to give it a shot. “We had a kid together,” I said.
The girl’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“He died when he was a week old.”
Her bag slid down her shoulder and rested on the ground. “I didn’t know.”
“We were eighteen. I sort of left her. I shouldn’t have.” I stuck my helmet on the handlebars. “I want to make this right. Help me do that. You saw her yesterday. I think we have a shot at this.”
The girl pushed at her bangs, upset, and I could see she was struggling with what to do.
“What’s she been like?”
She shrugged. “Sad. Alone. She doesn’t go anywhere, do anything.”
Her words were a blow to the gut. “You two? Do you do things?”
“Sometimes. Mainly I see her at work. And we signed up for this class.” She twisted her bright hair in her fingers. “She doesn’t go out.”
So that guy had to be something new. “Corabelle used to light up a room. Her laughter was the happiest sound in the world.”
“I’ve never heard her laugh.”
Another blow. “We were supposed to get married, but the baby came early. Then I left.” I had to get to this girl. I needed to talk to Corabelle, before she got all tied up in that other guy. What was going on with me was pushing her toward him, I was sure of it. “If I could just talk to her, outside of class, I think I could make things right.”
The girl pulled out her phone. “I tell you what. You give me your number, and I’ll give it to her. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll call.”
That was probably about as good as I could get for now. I told her my number and waited as she tapped it in. “You will tell her?”
She shrugged. “If I think it’s a good idea.”
The doors behind her opened and her eyes went wide as Corabelle and another guy came down the steps.
“Shit,” she muttered.
Corabelle saw us and froze. The dude seemed oblivious and tried to lead her away, but she wouldn’t move.
Everything inside me wanted to claw its way out — rage, disgust, and somewhere way down there, despair. I was going to be too late.
She grabbed the boy’s hand, and he looked surprised. They took off along the front of the building and down a path away from us.
I started to swing my leg off the bike even though I was in the middle of the sidewalk, but the girl punched my arm. “Don’t you dare,” she said. “I’m not going to let you mess with her unless it’s what she wants.”
“I’m what she wants.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what it looks like to me. You need to back off. I don’t care how well you can put a girl up against a dish counter, that boy is bound to be better for her than you.”
I snatched up my helmet and shoved it on. This was pointles
s. I needed away from all this, and the fire in my belly wasn’t an easy one to quench.
The Harley roared, startling a bunch of birds in the tree next to us. The pink girl backed away. She’d probably delete my number. I’d gotten nowhere. I probably wasn’t going to get anywhere.
I left campus behind to head to the garage. I had a short shift this afternoon, then the night was free. I could see if Mario wanted to shoot pool, but really I knew what I had to do. Scrounge up a bit of cash and head to Zona Norte in Tijuana. There, the girls were easy and paid to like you, and I didn’t have to think about real life at all.
•*´`*•*´`*•
The border guard glanced at my ID and waved me on with a halfhearted “Be careful.”
The half-hour drive from San Diego to Mexico helped put the scene with Corabelle behind me. I felt like I was at my second home as I left the searing lights of the border complex and rolled down Segunda Benito Juarez toward the red-light district.
I knew my way around Tijuana and the women there. No attachments. No risks. Just a simple ease of a simple need by a seasoned pro.
I turned off the highway and onto the main strip. The streets were pulsing with neon signs for hotels and taquerias. Cars rolled slowly, trolling for girls. They stood in their territorial spots, and if one was picked up, another took her place.
They waved as I zipped past, flashing a lot of skin. High heels, leopard prints, red vinyl, and fishnet. Not my scene whatsoever.
The best girls weren’t there, just the ones aiming for turistas. Overpaid and under-interested. And mostly managed. I hated the girls with pimps. They had too many bruises, and I struggled to kill my urge to drag their asses out of there.
Just a couple streets over would be the ordinary girls, the professionals-on-the-side kind, many of them wives or students or making their way on the streets on their own. They kept quiet, avoiding attention, not wanting to catch the eye of anyone who might try to claim them or make their lives more difficult than they already were.
Tonight I wanted Rosa, and the thought of her already had my mood downshifting into something more manageable. Rosa lived with her brother, or so she claimed, and worked in a little farmacia during the day.