Junk

by Komal Kant

  “Okay, we’ll go now.”

  “Fine, wait here,” I told her, nodding at my truck.

  Without another word, I headed into my dark house, herding Achilles along with me, and flipped on the lights. Now that I had a moment to reflect, I realized this was the worst possible situation I could’ve put myself in.

  A road trip with Blair—what had I been thinking? We would kill each other. Gruesomely. Fuck.

  Storming into the kitchen, I gripped the edge of the counter and closed my eyes. Slow, deep breaths, like my therapist had told me. I could do this. It was a test, a hurdle. I could overcome it, this, Blair, whatever.

  Straightening up, I pulled out my phone and texted Delilah.

  Gotta go to Oak Town for business. Can you come by and take Achilles home with you?

  By the time I’d grabbed my wallet and keys and loved on Achilles, she’d texted back.

  Sure. I’ll be by in thirty.

  With a final pat for Achilles, I strode towards the front door and flung it open. I was determined. I could do this.

  Goochee road trip, here I come.

  Oak City may have sounded like it was a metropolis of wonder on the edge of Wisconsin, but it wasn’t even close.

  True, it was a little bigger than Pine Bluffs and definitely more interesting to look at—larger buildings, more stores, bigger school—but it wasn’t what I would call a “city”. More like a small town that wasn’t quite as small as Pine Bluffs.

  “So, where’s this auto shop?” I asked Wade as he drove through the town, breaking the three-hour silence that had stretched between us since we’d left Pine Bluffs.

  Seriously. We hadn’t spoken to each other the entire drive up here. I figured if we talked, we were more likely to fight, which would then result in me trying to kill him again. It was better this way.

  Unfortunately, the drive had been complemented with some terrible country music that I couldn’t relate to. The songs had been about fishing, hunting, and something called ‘tailgating’.

  “You realize it’s after midnight, right?” He looked at me like I was a moron as he turned down the music. My ears rejoiced. “We’re gonna have to stay the night and go get the parts tomorrow.”

  “What?” I asked in disbelief. “We have to spend the night here?” I glanced around in dismay.

  “Uh, yeah, princess. What kinda auto shop do you think is open this late?” Wade pulled into the parking lot of a crappy looking motel called Oak City Inn.

  I guess I was an idiot for assuming the auto shop would be open at this hour.

  “Is this our only option?” I asked, casting my eyes around the derelict exterior of the motel.

  “Did you bring any money?” Wade asked, his tone casual as he shut off the engine.

  My heart sunk into the pit of my stomach. Holy crap. I had totally forgotten my purse when I’d left home. After Wade’s, I hadn’t gone back; only called my mom quickly to fill her in so she could get her car.

  “Well, no-”

  “Then stop complaining, Goochee.” Not waiting to hear me out, Wade hopped out of his truck, leaving me to gape after him.

  What. A. Jerk.

  Silently stewing, I got out of the truck and hurried after him into the motel before someone mugged me. Not that I had anything to mug.

  A squeaky ceiling fan greeted us as we stepped inside the clammy motel. The carpet was a deep green with dark stains all over it. I tried not to gag, distracting myself by glancing at the vending machine instead. It was mostly empty, except for a few packets of peanuts and a lone fly.

  The scrawny man at the front desk appeared to be in his fifties. He was bald on top, but the rest of his greying hair hung down his back like a long, limp curtain. His stained, white wife beater revealed skinny arms and barely covered a beer belly.

  “What can I do for youse?” he asked in a low, raspy voice, giving me a rotting, toothless smile.

  I visibly shuddered.

  “We’d like a room for the night, if you’ve got it,” Wade said, stepping in front of me like a shield.

  “Two rooms, actually,” I said loudly, stepping in front of Wade.

  Wade shot me a dirty look.

  The man at the front desk looked me over in interest. “Oh? Two? Youse aren’t together?” He leered at me.

  Wade laughed deeply, placing his arm around my shoulder and pulling me close to him. “My girlfriend’s kinda pissed at me. We got into a fight on the way over here. It’ll definitely just be the one room, thanks.”

  I shot daggers at him, which he ignored.

  Stranded in a one-bedroom motel with Wade was literally my most unexpected nightmare come true. I didn’t think my interactions with this man could get any worse, yet here I was money-less, wearing lime green crocs and sweatpants, and stuck who the hell knew where.

  Kill me.

  “Shame,” said the creepy guy, looking me over with a sickly smile. “Anyway, that’ll be fifty for the night. Youse are in Room 11.”

  Wade paid with his credit card, grabbed my arm in a pincer-like grip, and steered me to our room.

  “Ow! You’re hurting me!” I cried, once we were inside.

  There was a weird stench in the air, like cigarette smoke and pee. This place really was miserable.

  “Yeah, well, it’s better than Norman Bates out there eating you for dinner,” he snapped, deadbolting the door behind us.

  “That’s Hannibal Lecter,” I corrected with a huff, sitting down on the bed and staring around the room. Other than the tiny double bed, there was a slanted floor lamp in the corner and some drab blinds hanging from the window. “Where are you going to sleep?”

  Wade kicked off his shoes and walked around to the other side of the bed. The mattress sagged as he sat down. “Right here.”

  “Hey!” I twisted around to find that he’d sprawled out and was staring up at the ceiling. “What about me?”

  He patted the space next to him. “There’s half a bed waiting for you, Goochee.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you,” I told him with a glare. “Can’t you sleep on the floor?”

  “Nope, but you’re more than welcome to.” With that, he shifted around so his back was to me. “Can you turn off the light?”

  Whatever happened to chivalry? Clearly, Wade possessed none of that.

  There were suspicious looking stains on the floor that made me want to gag. Hell would freeze over before I risked catching a disease from sleeping on it. I doubted the bed was any better, but it was all I had.

  Muttering obscenities under my breath, I turned off the light and returned to the bed, careful not to touch any part of Wade as I got in.

  At least he was keeping to his side and had his back to me. It made it somewhat better that I didn’t have to look at his face.

  As I snuggled in, I could feel the warmth emanating from Wade’s body. An inch closer and we would be touching. Touching his firm muscles, running my fingertips over his abs and down to his-

  Stop it, Blair! Think about something, anything else.

  Um. Car. I was here for my car. Er. Ceiling. Cigarette smoke. Pee. Ugh. This place was awful. I couldn’t have done this alone, not without Wade.

  Sure, the guy was about as comforting as a prickly pear, but at least I had a sense of safety with him. Besides, he didn’t have to drive three hours for me, but he had, and I continued to torment him.

  Feeling a little guilty over my insufferable behavior, I whispered. “Thank you for doing this.”

  Wade was silent for so long that I thought he’d fallen asleep. Finally, he shifted so that the light from outside cast an amber sliver on his face, and in that sliver, I caught his blue gaze.

  “Good night, Blair.”

  With his acknowledgment soothing me, sleep came soon after.

  A FADED ‘CLOSED’ SIGN WAS our cold greeting the next morning, pressed against the smudged, glass door of the main entrance to Pete’s Auto Shop.

  This must have been some kind of Wiscons
in joke that Wade was about to explain to me. Like, maybe it was closed figuratively or spiritually, because there was no way my luck could be so terrible.

  I’d traveled three hours, shared an uncomfortable bed in a seedy hotel with my mortal enemy, and eaten a pack of peanuts for breakfast from the motel vending machine. How could everything go so wrong?

  So, doing the most natural thing to do in such an ironic situation, I started to laugh uncontrollably.

  The sound was so bizarre in the buzzing silence that Wade took a careful step away from me, looking confused and a little scared. Of course, he’d had spare clothes in his truck, so he’d showered and changed, and looked fresh in jeans and a blue flannel that brought out his eyes. Meanwhile, I looked homeless in my sweatpants, baggy tank top, and crocs combo.

  The irony just kept on coming.

  “Are you about to have a mental breakdown and stab me to death?” he asked in a wary tone, eyes wide.

  Gosh, he was morbid.

  “No, I’m just incredibly frustrated!” I let out another snap of laughter. “Verging on a possible mental breakdown. Of course, this would happen to me. My life’s been nothing short of a shit storm since I stepped foot in Wisconsin.”

  Now that I was using my words, Wade seemed a little less cautious. He turned his attention back to the sign, his forehead covered in lines. “You’re being overdramatic, Goochee. I just forgot they were closed on Sundays, that’s all. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is be stuck here for another day. But we drove all this way, so we should probably just suck it up until tomorrow.”

  “Suck it up?” I threw my hands up in disbelief and stormed away from the auto shop and towards Wade’s truck before I murdered someone. “That’s your solution? We should suck it up?”

  Wade was much calmer as he followed me. “Do you have a better idea? In fact, do you have any money? Mode of transportation? No? I didn’t think so.”

  My frustration for this man was at such a peak that I was pretty sure I was about to Hulk up, seize ahold of his truck, and pummel him with it.

  Before my imagination could play out further, I was thankfully distracted by the ringing of my phone.

  Grinding my teeth, I pulled my phone from my pocket and saw that it was an incoming video call from a familiar, three-lettered person.

  “Dad!” I greeted, my anger dissipating as I answered it without hesitation.

  “Hello, Blair,” said Dad’s thumb.

  My dad was about as savvy with a smart phone as I was with a rotary one. After years of insisting he didn’t need a hi-tech phone, he’d finally given in a few months ago and purchased his own. Unfortunately, he was still at the training wheels stage.

  “Dad, you’re covering the camera. I can’t see you,” I advised him, stifling a laugh.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wade perk up with interest. I ignored him, turning my back to him.

  “I don’t want the interwebs to figure out my identity,” he said in a low, mysterious voice.

  Wade snorted in the background.

  “Dad, your thumb is literally on the camera. They have your fingerprints at this point,” I informed him.

  “Oh, crap! Don’t let them put me on Facenovel!” He waved a hand around in feigned panic, and a bubble of laughter rolled out of me. This time, the non-crazy kind.

  Dad never failed to put a smile on my face, and it was much needed after the horrifying couple of days I’d had.

  There was a loud shuffling, and the camera shifted to the ceiling for a second before Dad finally figured his life out.

  “Hey, Bee!” Now I could finally see the man that made my heart glow. Big, white smile; thick, dark hair; chocolate brown skin a few shades darker than mine; and the perfectly straight nose I had inherited. “Are you okay? Your mom called me this morning, worried about you. She said you were off wrestling a Wells Sacky. I couldn’t figure out if she meant it in a recreational way or a sexual way.”

  With a groan, I glanced over to find Wade listening intently to our conversation, a smile threatening to creep onto his handsome face as he looked me up and down. Like it wasn’t mortifying enough hearing your dad say ‘sexual’ without adding a hot guy listening in.

  “Welsecky,” I corrected, shooting Wade a glare. “And it was because of him that I wrecked my car in the first place.”

  “Actually, that’s not true,” Wade interjected, walking closer to me so that he was also in the shot. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fonseka. I’m Wade Wells Sacky.”

  I guess no one cared about my corrections.

  “Actually, we’ve met. I vaguely remember you from back when you were a kid,” Dad said, completely unfazed. “Although, you weren’t this handsome. Now it makes complete sense why my daughter is running off to a different town with a Wall Socket. It’s a procreating dream come true. Think of what your offspring would look like.” There was a playful look on his face as he spoke.

  Oh, my God. My own father hadn’t just said that. Even though I knew my dad had an embarrassing sense of humor—meaning, he liked to embarrass Drew and me—Wade wasn’t familiar with his style.

  “Dad!” I cried, my face growing hot. “The last thing I want to do is procreate with Wade Welsecky.” I shot Wade a pointed look. “Can I talk to my dad in private?”

  “Sure thing.” Wade tipped his head at the camera. “Nice to see you again, Sir.”

  “You too, Wade,” Dad said cheerfully.

  Wade walked around his truck and pulled open the driver’s side open. Just before he got in, I heard him chuckle, “Wall Socket, ha!”

  My head snapped back to my dad. “Dad! I am not into that guy. Besides, I hate him more than I hate the word ‘bae’ and ‘thot’, whatever the heck they mean.”

  The English language had gone to hell with the growth of social media. Now everyone seemed to communicate in confusing slang, unnecessary abbreviations, and way too many emojis. We were practically back to scratching characters on cave walls at this point.

  “That’s a lot of hate.” Dad’s mouth tilted with a smile, but his eyes flashed with knowing. “You know, Blair, hate is wasted energy you’ll never get back. Show a little love and everyone will reap the rewards.”

  I wasn’t anywhere remotely close to loving Wade! Yet, even with that thought, my mind drifted to him and the encounters we’d shared.

  Hot body, good endowments, sure. But love? Never.

  Before I could respond, Dad cut into my thoughts. “I’m walking into a meeting right now. I’ll call you later, okay?” He ran his own construction company, so he was always working, even on a Sunday, unlike certain other establishments. “Be sure to SnapChap me with your adventures.”

  “Dad, it’s not SnapChap, it’s,” I started to say, but stopped myself. “Never mind, I’ll talk to you soon. Love you.”

  “Love you, Bee.”

  Stowing my phone in the pocket of my sweatpants, I took the remaining steps to Wade’s truck and got in. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, his head bowed over his phone like he was in deep prayer.

  “So, what are we going to do now?” I asked tentatively, almost worried about rousing him.

  Wade seemed to wake from a spell, lifting his head, and studying me for a moment. “Maybe we could take your dad’s suggestion and procreate a little? I promise I’m real good at it.” The inside of the truck seemed to shrink as he moved closer to me with a devilish smirk on his lips.

  A flurry of heat swept through me at his insinuation. I knew Wade was only messing with me, but I couldn’t deny the thoughts I’d had about him.

  “Not happening!” I muttered, shooting him a glare. “I’d rather suffocate in acid.”

  “You’ve just broken your poor father’s heart,” he teased, without skipping a beat. “Well, if you’re sure, I know a place we can hang out for a while.”

  As long it was nowhere close to a bed, I was fine with that. With the seed planted in my, uh, mind—nowhere else—who knew if I could be trusted alone with him.
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  Blair had nothing to say as she gazed around at our surroundings.

  I couldn’t blame her—Lake Superior was stunning any time of the year, but especially towards the end of summer when fall was about to make an appearance. The trees and grass were at their greenest, the flowers blooming at their peak before they withered away, and the insects still hummed in the warm air.

  Blair stood a few feet in front of me, her curvy figure so boldly grey against the blue background that it was impossible to take my eyes off her ass. She made sweatpants look sexy.

  Look away, look away. Look at anything but her.

  My eyes dropped to her lime green crocs that clashed against the vivid, green grass. It was a nice change from the ridiculously expensive shoes she’d had on at the funeral. The one I refused to give back to her until she stopped being a brat.

  The memories of that day came back, crisp and clear. The way her face had flamed with anger, the way our bodies had touched, the way I’d wanted to throw her down in that mud and-

  Fuck. It was happening again. I had to focus on something else.

  So, I retreated to the cooler I’d brought along, grabbed a beer, and sunk into the soft grass, studying the scenery just like she was.

  Pine Bluffs had decent lake views, but nothing compared to this. This was my therapy. Talking to a professional helped, but staring around at nature and recognizing how insignificant you and your problems were in the grand scheme of things was even more therapeutic.

  Cracking open my beer, I stretched out my legs and watched Blair against my better judgement. The child-like awe on her face tugged at my chest. It was a far cry from her usual, uppity, city girl antic. It was nice to see her appreciate the simple things in life.

  Blair spun around as though my thoughts had reached her ears. Noticing that I’d sat down, she took careful steps towards me and positioned herself beside me, pointedly leaving a gap between us. It was probably for the best, considering I wanted to do more than just look at her.

  I opened the cooler again and took out another beer for her. She hesitated, but eventually took it from me.