I stood off to the side as I watched her get in.
A fleck of red paint fell to the forecourt concrete as she slammed the door.
I watched it flutter to the floor, and kept my eyes on it, as she struggled to start her car.
I finally allowed my eyes to move back to her, about to say something stupid like ‘let me take you back to work,’ when she leaned over weirdly in her seat and pulled her leg out of its position on the ground, then slammed her foot into the dash.
She kicked the dash twice, the dashboard fell down into the floorboard, and then she returned the foot back to its normal position.
She tried starting it up again, and oddly enough, the car started up.
She beamed at the dash, patted the steering wheel like she was telling her car “good job,” and started backing out of the lot.
She stopped at the end of the driveway and rolled down her window with a window crank.
I watched her do all this with my insides roiling.
I hated that she had a shitty car.
I hated even more that her dad was a goddamn mechanic and didn’t find her a better one.
I hated that she was smiling all the fuckin’ time, too, when she sometimes didn’t have anything to smile about.
“You owe me breakfast or something, Piers.”
My eye twitched.
She called me that because nobody else did, and it pissed me off.
I know it amused her.
“When and where?” I called, my mouth moving before I could think about what I was doing.
Her eyes fucking sparkled.
I could see them through the lit parking lot despite it being dark as hell.
“You tell me when and where,” she said. “I get off every day at four thirty.”
With that comment, she left, and I was left standing in my shop’s drive with my head reeling.
Goddamn I was so fucking screwed.
What the hell was it about her that drew me in?
And why the hell couldn’t I stay away?
I was so lost in thought that I didn’t catch the police officer pulling into my drive until it was right up on me.
Fuck.
The officer got out, and I knew instantly it wasn’t one of mine.
She appeared new.
“Officer.” I nodded.
“Can you tell me what you are doing out here this late?” she asked, looking at me like she was assessing my every move.
