Stupid Girl(79)

Until I became the butt of one.

Again.

My poor truck.

Noah and Dr. Callandar had left Steven and I in charge so that they could attend a weekend conference in Fort Worth. We’d not only finished setting up a new expo of a simulated and extremely cool Draconid meteor shower in observation room two, with a fall of stardust and mist and extraordinary planetary geekness, but we’d also knocked out a major log entry and experiment for our astronomy lab by breaking down the parts of a spectrometer to show its function and relativity to studying light and the stars.

“You know our project is a beast, right?” Steven said, locking the front entrance to the observatory behind him. “Aced it.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it is, and we did.” Steven always parked around the side of the building, in the opposite lot facing Main Street, so I threw up my hand and waved as he trotted down the steps. “See ya Monday.”

“Yep,” he answered, and I watched the darkness gobble him up. From the shadows, he called out. “Hey, where’s your boyfriend?”

I turned and answered. “Fall baseball game with North Star State. He’s coming over later. We’re scoping Draco from Oliver’s rooftop.” Draco meaning the constellation. It always blew my mind when I encountered someone who’d never been shown a constellation, and Draco was by far my favorite.

“Sweet. Just making sure I didn’t miss any girly break-up clues. See ya!”

I started down the ramp and wound my way to my side of the observatory. I glanced up and sighed. Such a perfect night, totally clear with no glaring moonshine. Stars flooded the heavens, and I thought this might be one of the most perfect constellation nights ever.

The moment my eyes clapped onto my truck, I knew something was wrong. Not situated in the brightest of light, at a quick glance it looked okay. Until you noticed the tires.

Or rather, the lack of them.

It stopped me stone-cold in my tracks. Not a sound did I mutter as I stared, disbelieving. Barely a breath. Certainly no words. At first. Then it sunk in. What had really, truly happened.

I lowered my head, stared at my shadow stretching across the pavement of the observatory’s empty side parking lot. And swore.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I spat. I stood for a moment, hands on my hips, just … gawking. My gaze shot around the parking lot. Who in their right mind would drive up this close to the observatory and remove all the wheels and tires from my truck and stick them in the bed? But they had. All four of them, off. Concrete blocks took their place, and held up the frame.

Shit!

I blew out a long, frustrated, pissed off sigh and stomped across the lot. Of course this would happen on a night Brax wasn’t here to meet me after work. Perfect. I peered through darkness, to where the halo of street lamp ended, and listened. I didn’t hear anything. Nor did I see anything. No camera phones. No giggling. Nothing.

Then, a burst of laughter erupted from the shadows, and it set off, I don’t know, at least a half dozen more fits. Male and female, from what I could tell. A few flashes went off. I turned my back and ignored them. I couldn’t help but wonder who it was. At least gutter fuck had been left out of the equation.

In the distance, music rocked from one of the campus frat houses, and the football game must’ve ended by the sound of a stream of horns blowing and people hollering. I swore again, just as an engine started in the darkness, at the far end of the lot and close to the main road. Away from lights, I couldn’t make out the model. I could tell it was a truck, but that was all. I turned away once more, before someone got an even better view of my face. The last thing I wanted was to become another overnight viral sensation. I just wanted to get finished and get gone.

This wasn’t going to be easy. Doable, but not easy to accomplish alone. “It’s not going to fix itself by you just staring and huffing about it, Beaumont,” I muttered to myself out loud. And, my inner self was absolutely right. Luckily, I knew how to fix the problem or I’d have to spend a chunk of money to call someone out to do it for me. Lowering the tailgate, I leapt up, unlocked my Lockbox, and dug out my tools and jack. Placing them on the concrete by the front driver’s side, I pulled one wheel and tire out of the bed, rolled it to the front, and set to work.

By the time I had three of the four wheels back on, the roar of exhaust tore through the air. Cory’s Camaro flew across the parking lot, and hadn’t even stopped before Brax threw open the passenger side door and leapt out. In his cleats he jogged toward me, and beneath the bill of his Silverbacks ball cap, his expression was dark and thunderous. Orange clay stained his right thigh and backside, no doubt where he’d been sliding. Cory killed the engine then unfolded his big self out of the driver’s side and followed Brax over. His uniform looked as dirty as Brax’s.