TriAngles
Kimberly Ann Miller
SPENCER HILL PRESS
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For Jed,
who traveled with me through the Bermuda Triangle many times and made each trip a great one.
One
T minus one day to departure for my cruise to Bermuda, I almost died on my way to work.
Should that have been enough to stop me from boarding the ship? Nah.
I just hoped it wasn’t some sort of omen.
My best friend and coworker, Nisha, noticed my red face and shaking hands when I punched in. “What’s up, Autumn?”
I gulped down a deep breath and sighed. “A giant truck cut me off when I tried to turn into the parking lot, and it almost decapitated me. The only thing that will make me feel better is pizza for lunch. You game?”
She grinned and pulled out her phone. “As long as you’re okay, I’ll make our reservations right now.”
I thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I’ll live. Make the call.”
At noon, we took our much-needed lunch break at Tony’s Pizzeria. I wanted to chat with her one last time, just in case I didn’t make it back for some reason—like, I don’t know, a sham marriage to some rich dude.
Or death by auto, boat, or serial killer. These days, anything’s possible.
“What’s your problem, Autumn? You claim you almost died today, but you didn’t. Why the gloomy expression?” she asked, as my face no doubt sported a scowl.
I looked her up and down and grinned. “Your outfit. Where do you find that stuff?” Even though she was tiny, Nisha stood out like the zit on the tip of her nose. Neon-green spandex tank, watermelon pink miniskirt, and black clunky boots made it look like a garage sale had exploded and she got in the way. Topped off with her long black hair in pigtails, I was almost embarrassed to be seen with her.
Almost, but not quite.
“Hey!” She twirled her pigtails for effect. “I love my style, so lay off. What do you want me to do, be the boring jeans-and-T-shirts kind of girl you are?”
“Touché.” I tried to keep a straight face, but a chuckle escaped my lips. “I was just teasing.” I glanced out the window smiling, only to frown seconds later. My coworker-slash-shadow had his hands cupped against the glass, his eyes sifting through the lunch crowd inside. “Joey’s here.” Couldn’t I have one damn lunch break without him looking for me? I mean, I knew he had a crush on me, but this was ridiculous.
She rolled her eyes. “What did he leave you this time?”
“A chocolate rose.”
“And that rose is—”
“In the trash with the pink rose he left me yesterday.” I gulped as I remembered the stench of that flower. It had smelled too much like the ones that had filled the funeral parlor at my dad’s service, and our house afterward. The smell of roses always made me think of Dad and my role in his sudden death.
My tears had let Joey know just what I thought of his “gift.”
She smirked and leaned toward me. “Was it Godiva? If it was, I am so fishing it out of the trash.”
I kicked her under the table. “Can you make me invisible so Joey doesn’t see me? I don’t want to talk to him now.”
She rubbed her shin. “Kick me, then ask for a favor? Kiss off. Here.” She handed me a Raspberry Snapple and pulled a Lemon-Lime Gatorade out of her enormous purse.
The pizza guy set our pie down in front of us. Curls of fragrant cheesy steam rose into the air. I took two slices and put them on my plate.
“How do you stay so skinny with all you eat?” Nisha eyed my plate and then my waist.
I rolled my eyes. “The same way you do, Miss Size Two. Good genes.”
She chuckled and motioned toward the register. “Did you see that cute guy up there? The short one with the wavy black hair? I’ve seen him in our store a few times. He’s hot!”
I glanced toward the counter. The guy looked over his broad shoulder and caught my eye for a second, smiled, then turned around. He ran long fingers through his hair as he waited for his order to come up. His pressed gray shirt showed off muscular arms. Belted black dress pants accentuated his fit waist and well-built body.
I grinned. “Yeah, he is. I sorta know him. He’s the local hottie at the bank on the other end of this strip mall.” I sprinkled garlic on my slices.
Nisha’s eyes moved from him back to Joey. “I don’t bank there. He’s a little short, but he’s cuter than Joey. From the looks of it, he’s richer, too.” She waggled her eyebrows. “How do you ‘sorta’ know him? Something you’re not telling me, hmm? Hot banker sex on the cherry wood desk?”
I chuckled and glanced at him before continuing. “His name is Marcus. He asked Jessica out a month ago when she made a deposit at the bank. She said no because she thought he was too young, but he told her he was twenty-one. They went out to dinner, but when he ordered wine they carded him.” I bit off a chunk of crust. “Turns out he’s only nineteen. Jessica was so mad, she slapped him in front of the waiter! He tried to tell her they’d made a mistake, but she’s not stupid. She asked him to take her home, and he actually asked if she was up for some action when he dropped her off.”
Nisha gasped. “What a dog! But I bet he’s experienced in all things sexual with that face and bod.” Her eyes twinkled. “You might benefit from a little of his knowledge. And I don’t mean the bank account kind.”
I dropped the garlic shaker and waved my hand in the air. Tiny yellow flakes littered the table in front of me. “Take him. I don’t need guy troubles.”
She drew in a deep breath and sighed. “My mother would kill me if I brought him home. Don’t forget, she’s happily married to my dad and their marriage was arranged when she was, like, two years old.” She shuddered. “If she forces me to marry anyone, I’m getting a sex change operation and calling myself Nick.”
I giggled at the mental image of Nisha-as-Nick. So not appealing.
Marcus finally got his order, paid, and walked toward the door with a confident stride.
Marcus arrived at the door just as Joey was holding it for a frazzled-looking lady with three crying kids. I could see the grease on his hands from the oil changes he’d done all morning. When Marcus got to the door, Joey let it go so Marcus had to grab it before it closed on him.
My mouth hung open. “Joey just shut the door in Marcus’s face!”
She scoffed. “No way. I’ve never seen him be mean to anyone.” She turned around to see what was going on.
“Agreed. He’s not a mean guy. He’s actually pretty nice to everyone. But still, he’s like that annoying freshman that follows the senior girls around. Even after they tell him to take a hike, he still doesn’t get it. And that can cancel out the niceness.”
We watched him place his order. At six feet two, Joey towered over the cashier. Everyone could tell he was a mechanic just by looking at his jeans, which were splattered with grease, motor oil, and had torn knees. A red and black bandana drooped out of the back pocket. The S in the Shore Auto on his black logo tee was missing, making the name of the shop look obscene. The always-present pen behind his ear marked a tiny spot of blue ink on his neck.
“Good thing he started going to my sister for haircuts; he looks a lot cuter with his hair a little long and messy like that.”
She was righ
t—he did look cute. But his cuteness didn’t counteract his annoyingness. “I was thinking about getting a haircut before my trip. What do you think?” I asked as I tugged on my shag, which had been growing out for the past year. “Not that there’s much time.” I glanced at the pizza-shaped clock on the wall.
Nisha studied my light-brown locks. “I like it at your shoulders like that. Leave it.”
I shrugged and chomped down a chunk of cheesy dough. When I looked up, Joey caught my gaze and waved. I pretended I didn’t see him. “Doesn’t Joey ever take a day off? He isn’t the only mechanic we have in this town.”
“He won’t. Between his deadbeat dad and mom with cancer, I heard he needs the money.”
“Yeah, I heard that, too. If I had cancer, I don’t think I could deal with all that medicine and losing my hair. I can’t imagine being sick all the time, unable to work or hang out with you.” And I couldn’t imagine anything worse than dying before you really started living.
She gulped down some Gatorade. “Right? Anyway, he’s definitely got it bad for you. Remember when he practically followed you into the bathroom at McDonald’s?” She giggled. “It’s too bad you don’t like him. I bet he’d do anything for you.” She tugged her fingers through her hair. “Maybe you could do the ‘friends with benefits’ thing.”
Not this shit again. “Nisha, stop. My life is complicated enough without love or getting knocked up. Besides, I’m getting the hell out of here as soon as I turn eighteen. I don’t need a guy holding me back. Even if he’s cute or nice or sweet or whatever the hell Joey may be.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot. Your plan to ‘Get Away from Your Life.’ Well, let me clue you in on something, Autumn Rayne Taylor.” She took another swig of her yellowish-green drink. “Your problems won’t end just because you live somewhere else.”
“My Joey problem would. And I could easily just pretend I have no other problems. Lots of people do that.” I chugged the rest of my Snapple and set the bottle down on the table. “See? Go away, and the problems stay at home.”
“Yeah, you think so? Well, guess what my sister told me?” A wicked gleam in her eyes told me I wouldn’t have to guess. “Joey’s grandparents are taking him on a cruise.” She paused for effect. “YOUR cruise.”
My mouth dropped open. “What? Are you sure? Oh my God.” I grabbed my ears and put my head down on the cold Formica table. I focused on the crumbs that littered the floor. “This cannot be happening. When did you—”
Joey’s booted feet appeared in the center of the crumb collection. “Hi guys. Can I join you?” His usual scent of gasoline and oil did not mix well with my pizza. The smell, along with the news, made me nauseous.
“Uh, I’m leaving. My break is over. You can have my seat.” I sat up, rolled the last piece of my slice into the paper plate, and slid out of the booth. “See ya back at work, Nish.” I tossed my trash into the can next to our table, dropping my napkin under our booth.
Joey took my place across from Nisha. He pulled the pen from behind his ear and started chewing on the end.
Nisha slapped the pen away from his mouth. It bounced off his teeth with a pop, hit the table, and rolled onto the floor.
“Gross, Joey. Who knows where that pen’s been? And I swear, if you pick it up off the floor and shove it back in your mouth, I’m throwing bleach on you.”
Joey’s cheeks turned pink. He glanced at me and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry, guys. It’s just habit. But the pen is clean, I swear. It’s mine.”
I managed to drag out my napkin with my foot, leaving it at the base of the garbage can, then turned to head out.
Nisha grabbed my wrist before I could walk away. “Tell him, Autumn. Tell him you would never kiss a guy who ate germy pens.” She winked at me and giggled.
I knew she was trying to be cute and push Joey on me, but it only increased the distance I wanted between me and him.
My mom chewed on her pens all the time, and my sister Jessica, the perfect nurse, always yelled at her for it. But the germs didn’t concern me.
Thinking about my sick mom at the hospital did.
I had to leave before I lost it. I yanked my hand away and rushed out of Tony’s. Three doors down, Shore Auto and my crappy job waited for me.
The stink of car parts and gasoline assaulted my nose as I entered the double doors. Despite working there for a few months now, I couldn’t get used to that smell, though it wasn’t as bad as it used to be. I covered my nose with my hand, then snuck down aisle four, peeled open one of those tree-shaped air fresheners, and hung it on my nametag. Good thing our boss, Colin, was about as observant as a blind mouse. When I slid behind my register and began work, the hours passed in a blur of various customers and car parts. Nisha and I texted between customers, making fun of them to make each other laugh. After one too many teenagers complained about how expensive their bill was, I closed out my drawer in a grumpy mood.
When my shift ended, I put the air freshener back and tiptoed over to the time clock to punch out. When a familiar tall shadow crept up behind me, I cringed. “Joey, I can smell what you did for work today.”
He chuckled. “Thank you for pointing that out. A man loves hearing how much he smells like work.”
I laughed. “Man? Don’t you mean little boy?”
He walked around me and put his arm up on the wall in a pathetic attempt to look sexy. When he leaned, then slipped on a spot of oil, I laughed. He blushed and put his hands in his pockets.
I looked up at him. “You are so not cool.” The hopeful look in his chestnut-brown eyes made me sigh. “Joey, what’ll it take to get you to stop following me around and leaving me little presents?”
He smiled with white teeth that stood in stark contrast to his olive skin. “Uh, I’m not trying to follow you around, Autumn. Swear.” His face reddened. “I was just kind of hoping maybe we could, you know, go out sometime.”
Ugh. “Sorry, Joey. I’m leaving Jersey soon and not interested in getting involved with anyone.”
He cast a shy glance my way. “That’s okay. We can hang out as friends.”
“I hear the boss man bellowing for you from the garage.” I motioned toward the shop with my chin. “Get back to work. He needs you.”
“Joey! This Hummer has to be done in fifteen!” Colin yelled. “Where are you?”
His smile faded and he leaned closer. “Think about it, Autumn. Just say the word, and I’ll be ready to hang out with you whenever you want.” He sniffed the air. “Do I smell coconuts?”
I grabbed his firm shoulder and pushed him toward the mechanic shop. “Go!”
He stumbled into the garage, and I ran out the front door to hop into my used Ford Escort. On the five-minute ride home, I wondered why Joey was so interested in me.
I wasn’t even interested in myself. Must be a character defect on his part.
Two
I parked my car and followed the walkway around into the courtyard. My red-brick apartment building was set up like a square so that all the wooden front doors faced a nice, grassy area, complete with flowering shrubs and trees.
It didn’t fool me into thinking I lived in a fancy house.
I’d just gotten my key out of the door when Jessica called out to me.
“Autumn, dinner’s ready. And I’d like to talk to you about something.”
Wasn’t she getting sick of this “I’m your new mom” routine? When we were kids and she helped me tie my shoes or braid my hair or open my Lunchables, I didn’t mind her interference so much. Now that she was my official guardian since Mom’s accident, it sucked. She asked about my friends, my grades, my “mental status,” and even my menstrual cycle. Talk about invasive.
I ignored her and went to my room to change and put my stuff down. I figured I may as well be comfortable when the lecture started.
Sir Sleepsalot napped on my bed. I smoothed my fingers over his silky black and white fur, causing loud purrs to erupt from his fuzz
y body. “Love you, little man.” I kissed his head and shuffled my now-slippered feet into the tiny kitchen. The smell of hot dogs permeated the apartment. Jessica already sat at the scarred dining room table. Since she was dressed in her Shrek scrubs and had her long blonde hair braided for work, I knew the lecture would be short. Hot dogs and “let’s talk” sessions were becoming common in the Taylor household.
I plopped down onto the old vinyl chair next to her, filled my plate with generic potato chips and two hot dogs, and dug in.
“Autumn, we need to talk about school.” Jessica poured lemonade into two paper cups. She placed them in front of our plates, then arranged the bag of chips and hot dog buns on the table to neaten the space.
I glanced up at her, then squirted mustard all over my hot dog. The bright yellow color was the exact opposite of my mood. “Save it. I’m not going back.”
She sighed, her big green eyes pleading. “You won’t get anywhere without a high school diploma. Working at Shore Auto for minimum wage is not going to support you when you’re older. Don’t you want to go to college, get a good job, be responsible?”
I smirked. “You mean like you? Perfect student, perfect daughter, perfect nurse? Did you ever do anything rebellious or illegal at all?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. I took a pen from work. Anyway, I plan on getting married and having a family one day. You’ll want your own life, too, right? And if Mom takes a turn for the worse…” She took a sip of lemonade. “Have you gone to the hospital lately?”
“Yes.” What she was asking was if I’d seen Mom lately. The answer to that question was no.
I went to the hospital almost every other day. But I couldn’t face Mom. I was the reason she sat in that hospital bed, swollen, pale, full of tubes and wires. I sat in my car, staring up at her hospital room window, until I could no longer see through my tears.
“Good. She’d want you to finish school. So would Dad. You know that.”
I forced an exaggerated sigh and slammed down the open mustard bottle. “School just ended last week, Jessica. I really don’t want to hear it. And I’ll be fine on my own.” I swiped a yellow glob off the edge of my plate and licked my finger. “I quit. I’m not going back for senior year and that’s that.”
Triangles Page 1