At the Stars(10)
“Hey, man.” AJ greets me, which takes me by surprise. I don’t know him well, but I wonder why he’s here in her room. “Come on in.”
AJ seems like a good enough guy. Friendly. Everyone refers to him as Mrs. Choi’s nephew even though everyone also whispers none-too-quietly about how he couldn’t possibly be related to her for real. Because, well, he’s definitely not Asian.
None of my damned business either way. Small towns. Even when you try not to talk to anyone, you still hear all the gossip.
“I need to give Cassie an update on her car.” I lean to the side. Past AJ’s shoulder, I catch a glimpse of her. She’s seated in a burnt-orange motel chair that’s been pushed into the bathroom. “I’ve got some numbers for you,” I tell her. “Also, I hoped you might be ready to return my jacket.”
“Oh. Sorry. It got some dirt or something on the sleeve. I was going to have it cleaned.”
I shrug. “It’s cool. I can take care of it.” Honestly, what do I care about a dirt smudge? Half my clothes are stained from the shop.
“Great. Thanks. Um, so, how bad’s it gonna be?” She pops out of the chair and comes over, clutching a towel around her shoulders with a bright but uncertain smile. It’s funny—that night when I pushed her out of the road she seemed pissed-off and withdrawn. Today when she came in with the muffins she was friendly and almost flirty, if I was reading her right. Now she seems like she’s vulnerable and trying not to be.
Of all the things, that wide look to her eyes and the tiny tremble in her lips is what socks me in the stomach. I take a step back to try to free myself from that look’s pull. “So I can get you a rebuilt engine, maybe one from a junkyard if I have time to look around. It won’t be as much as Bart said, but you’re still looking at around five grand, I’m afraid. I’ll give you a break on the labor if I can. And the tow. Cheaper than buying a new car maybe, but engines are expensive. There’s no real way to get around that.”
Her face hardens and the smile sort of folds up and goes away, flattening into neat lines. “Well, that’s all kinds of awesome.” She crosses her arms over her chest like she’s cold. Probably the way she shields herself from bad news.
I don’t know her, and I can’t get to know her even if I think I might like to. Even if I think it’s impressive how calmly she’s taking this bomb I’ve dropped.
Then her eyes go to the floor for a while, and I’m left wondering where to look. I clasp my hands behind my back and inch closer to the door, glancing at AJ and again at Cassie. “The shop does have financing,” I mention. “I can ask the owner for an application.”
Or she could ask the owner for her own damn application. I don’t know what I’m doing offering to hold this girl’s hand. I command my tongue to stop working its mojo without permission. I guess my tongue can’t stand to see her looking hurt any more than the rest of me.
When she puts her hand to her forehead like the decisions are too much to handle, I admit I want to give her some support. Her shoulders curve under the weight of what I’ve told her, and I’m enough of an asshole that when my sense of duty pushes me over to put my arm around her, I remember the feel of her warm, rain-slicked body in my arms from a few nights ago.
I send up a prayer of thanks when AJ sidles up and gives her a friendly pat on her back. It gives me an excuse to step backward. Carefully, I pull my hand away from her warm skin “Tell you what,” I say. “Think it over. Car’s not going anywhere with that hole in the engine block. Worst case, you find something new and I can have your old car towed to a junk yard for you. Won’t cost much. And if you decide to get the work done but you need to wait awhile to save up, they’ll comp you the parking fee on a repair bill that size. Trust me.”
Trust me. What the fuck is this shit I’m saying? I’m not reliable for anybody when it comes to trust.
Except when Cassie looks up at me with all that... that gratitude shining in her eyes, then I can’t bring myself to take it back. Fuck. Fuck.
“That’s generous of you. I’ll think it over and let you know something as soon as I can. Thank you so much. For everything.”
She stares too long after those last two words, and I turn to go before any more damage can be done. I’m halfway home before I realize I’ve left my jacket, and I’m not going back.
5. FRESH CUCUMBERS
Jake
Monday morning the coffee maker is busted at RJ’s shop, making all the bastards over there even bigger pains in the ass than usual. I’m at Delia’s, bent over the condiment counter and reading an article in The Evergreen Gazette. I dump raw sugar and cream into a to-go cup—RJ likes his dressed-up all fancy—when the warm, blunt edge of a chin presses into my shoulder.