I’d been spilling my secrets to a stranger.
Embarrassment pulsed through me as I read his messages again and again—before getting ready for work, eating a bowl of cereal, between oil changes. Every time I tried to reply, my thumb froze over the touchscreen before I could hit send. I wanted to yell at him for betraying my trust. He’d made me feel like a stupid ass, a fool for asking the real Mason out.
I slowly backspaced my “who the hell are you?” as I made my guesses.Jonathan with the tattoo?Not likely, given how much he’d cried when I ended things. Delete.Bailey the skateboarder?He’d kicked me out of his car and told me to fuck all the way off. Delete.Zach from West Point baseball?Just a one-time thing. Delete.Damian Jones?He was straight as far as I knew, but something about that night in the hardware store…A new message came through while I tried to think of who else it could be.
12:23PM
bedmas_22
Your silence must mean you’re mad.
“Ugh,” I growled, tossing my phone onto the lobby sofa. My head hurt from trying to think it through. Somehow my life kept getting messier no matter how much I tried to keep it from falling apart. Sawyer threatening to kick me out of the QSA, my father’s performative stunt at The Cove, everything I told the fake Mason. All of it was too much to deal with.
I stretched out on the cushions and tried to tune out the TV’s midday news report. The governor’s newest hate-fueled bill was only making the ache in my head worse. From my relaxed position, I could see the back wall of the garage. The painting of Zelda peered at me, like she had been all morning.Did you ever feel free?I silently pleaded with her for guidance.
“Having a staring contest with her again?”
I leaned my head back and found an upside-down Mom. She had just come inside with our lunch in one hand and the other behind her back. “She’s impossible to beat,” I said, righting myself on the sofa.Impossible to live up to.
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, moving sideways to keep whatever it was she was hiding out of my sight.
“Why are you being sketchy?” I asked, trying to peer around her.
“Because,” she said with a grin, “it’s a surprise.”
“Surprise?” There had been way too many surprises lately. “Is it salt to rub in my wounds?”
“Morbid.” She tsked and rolled her eyes.
“I can’t help that I’m in my sad-boy era.” I’d filled her in on everything about Mason and how I’d asked him out. Almost everything. I couldn’t bring myself to divulge how incredibly stupid I felt for falling for Fake Mason’s lies.
“Maybe a belated birthday present will cheer you up?” She revealed the hidden gift box with a flourish. “It was delayed getting here, but—”
“But nothing.” I cut her off with grabby hands.
She laughed, tossing it to me. The sounds of ripping paper drowned out the news update as I opened it. A lump of thick vibrant-green material fell into my lap. I’d helped Mom out enough growing up to know what it was.
“You got me a mechanic shirt?” I asked, holding it up.
“That’s not the gift,” she said. “Look at the front.”
I turned it around and saw why she was excited, why this had been wrapped as a surprise. Above the pocket of the button-up was a patch. Roaring Mechanics spelled out in the same font as the emerald sign out front, and there was cursive beneath it. “Zeke Chapman,” I read, feeling the embroidered words. “Assistant Mechanic.”
“Do you like it?” Mom was beaming as she waited expectantly. “I thought it was appropriate since you’ve been such a huge help this summer.”
“I love it…” Seeing my name printed like that madesomething click in my brain, the sum of all the conversations I’d had recently about the future.What do you want to do, Zeke?my father had asked. “Do you think I could do this, like, for real?”
“What do you mean?” She gave me a puzzled look.
I cleared my throat. “I mean if I wanted to go to school for automotive technology, like you?”
“Like me, huh?” She took a seat on the sofa arm, taken aback by the question. “You wanna know if I think you can do this?” I nodded. “Hun, you’realreadydoing it, and you’re good at it too.”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re my mom?” I teased.
“I probablyshouldn’tbe saying that, because I’m also the boss,” she replied in kind. “You’ll put me out of a job one day.”
“Never.” I absently rubbed my hand over the embroidered letters of my name. If I could go to school like she had, then I could work here once I graduated and maybe even expand to a new location.
