time that passes, the more people are starting to realize there’s nothing exciting about me and they’d be better off trying to get pictures of starlets exposing themselves while improperly exiting limos.
On Friday after school I rush home and jump in the shower. I know taking my car to the garage to have a stereo installed isn’t exactly a date, but I’m going to see Colin and the last memory he has of me is me standing, frenzied and rumpled, in the middle of the grocery store needlessly ripping apart plastic bags. So in the shower I take care to shave my legs, and when I get out, I put on that expensive moisturizer Mom got at Sephora, the one that she forbade anyone else from using.
I spend nearly half an hour staring at my closet, trying to find the perfect outfit. I can’t look like I’m trying too hard...but I want to look good. I pull on a pair of deep blue, skinny jeans, and a long, turquoise camisole. Then I grab a gauzy white v-neck sweater and pull that on over top.
No. I’m going to a garage, not the mall. And that sweater cost like ninety dollars. What if he wanted to reach out and brush the hair off my shoulder, but the grease on his fingertips smeared the sweater? Wishful thinking, but it could happen...maybe. I take the sweater off and grab a black cardigan. Better.
I use a flat iron to straighten my already mostly straight hair so that it hangs like a curtain on either side of my face. Then I carefully wisp on some silver eye shadow and coat my eyelashes in mascara.
“Where are you heading looking all hot?” Ava says as I’m pulling on a pair of calf-high black suede boots.
“Nowhere,” I lie. I grab my keys and purse off the buffet table in the hall and stream out the front door.
At four thirty on a Friday afternoon, the garage isn’t exactly hopping. The other guys who work there have taken off for the weekend and mine is the only car being serviced.
“Hi,” I wave at Colin. He’s not in his usual work getup of coveralls, but instead wearing some black jeans and a white t-shirt. He leaps up from the chair he’s sitting on and walks over to me.
“Hey Syd.”
“Um, so thanks for doing this.” I step aside so he can look in the car. He fiddles with something then pops back out.
“No problem. It’s my job,” he shrugs. “Did you want me to take you home?”
“What?”
“Well it might be a couple hours. I could take you home, or somewhere else if you like, and then come and get you when I’m done.”
I swallow. Sure, being in a car with Colin would probably make my life, but the idea of explaining to whoever is home why he’s driving me to and fro...not so fun – not because I don’t have a good explanation, but because whenever I talk about him I turn beat red. Besides, I was kind of hoping to hang around and watch him. God that sounded creepy.
“Nah,” I shake my head. “That’s okay. I can just hang here. If that’s alright?”
“Yeah sure. There are some chairs in the waiting room,” he points to the glassed off area on the other side of the garage. My stomach sinks. “Or you can keep me company if you want. But there might be some work involved.”
“How so?”
“Well for example,” he grins. “Try handing me that wrench?” He points to a tool sitting atop a big black box on my left.
I pick it up and hand it to him. “How did I do?”
“Perfect, well except that was a screwdriver. But who cares. I’ve always wanted an assistant. I try and get Gill, that kid who works here after school to get me stuff all the time, but he’s such a little punk, just shakes his head and walks away.”
For the next hour I perch on the edge of a somewhat dirty chair while watching Colin work. Every once in a while I hand him something he points at, but my assistant duties are thin at best. I have absolutely no idea what he’s doing, but it doesn’t stop me from enjoying the view.
So I don’t look like a complete idiot, I hide behind my eBook reader, sifting
On Friday after school I rush home and jump in the shower. I know taking my car to the garage to have a stereo installed isn’t exactly a date, but I’m going to see Colin and the last memory he has of me is me standing, frenzied and rumpled, in the middle of the grocery store needlessly ripping apart plastic bags. So in the shower I take care to shave my legs, and when I get out, I put on that expensive moisturizer Mom got at Sephora, the one that she forbade anyone else from using.
I spend nearly half an hour staring at my closet, trying to find the perfect outfit. I can’t look like I’m trying too hard...but I want to look good. I pull on a pair of deep blue, skinny jeans, and a long, turquoise camisole. Then I grab a gauzy white v-neck sweater and pull that on over top.
No. I’m going to a garage, not the mall. And that sweater cost like ninety dollars. What if he wanted to reach out and brush the hair off my shoulder, but the grease on his fingertips smeared the sweater? Wishful thinking, but it could happen...maybe. I take the sweater off and grab a black cardigan. Better.
I use a flat iron to straighten my already mostly straight hair so that it hangs like a curtain on either side of my face. Then I carefully wisp on some silver eye shadow and coat my eyelashes in mascara.
“Where are you heading looking all hot?” Ava says as I’m pulling on a pair of calf-high black suede boots.
“Nowhere,” I lie. I grab my keys and purse off the buffet table in the hall and stream out the front door.
At four thirty on a Friday afternoon, the garage isn’t exactly hopping. The other guys who work there have taken off for the weekend and mine is the only car being serviced.
“Hi,” I wave at Colin. He’s not in his usual work getup of coveralls, but instead wearing some black jeans and a white t-shirt. He leaps up from the chair he’s sitting on and walks over to me.
“Hey Syd.”
“Um, so thanks for doing this.” I step aside so he can look in the car. He fiddles with something then pops back out.
“No problem. It’s my job,” he shrugs. “Did you want me to take you home?”
“What?”
“Well it might be a couple hours. I could take you home, or somewhere else if you like, and then come and get you when I’m done.”
I swallow. Sure, being in a car with Colin would probably make my life, but the idea of explaining to whoever is home why he’s driving me to and fro...not so fun – not because I don’t have a good explanation, but because whenever I talk about him I turn beat red. Besides, I was kind of hoping to hang around and watch him. God that sounded creepy.
“Nah,” I shake my head. “That’s okay. I can just hang here. If that’s alright?”
“Yeah sure. There are some chairs in the waiting room,” he points to the glassed off area on the other side of the garage. My stomach sinks. “Or you can keep me company if you want. But there might be some work involved.”
“How so?”
“Well for example,” he grins. “Try handing me that wrench?” He points to a tool sitting atop a big black box on my left.
I pick it up and hand it to him. “How did I do?”
“Perfect, well except that was a screwdriver. But who cares. I’ve always wanted an assistant. I try and get Gill, that kid who works here after school to get me stuff all the time, but he’s such a little punk, just shakes his head and walks away.”
For the next hour I perch on the edge of a somewhat dirty chair while watching Colin work. Every once in a while I hand him something he points at, but my assistant duties are thin at best. I have absolutely no idea what he’s doing, but it doesn’t stop me from enjoying the view.
So I don’t look like a complete idiot, I hide behind my eBook reader, sifting
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