AllFreeNovel
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It’s been six weeks since I last spoke with the man who raised me, and not for the first time in those weeks, I wish things had been different.
Though, this time, it’s not because the one who raised me is a gambling addict who would throw his own blood under the bus in order to manipulate and maintain his power.
But because the one who raised me didn’t teach me how to change a goddamned tire.
Six weeks ago, I bought an old, shitty Saturn—a company that’s so shitty and old, it doesn’t even exist anymore—and the skeevy man from Facebook Marketplace told me the tires were nearly bald and would need to be replaced soon.
Of course, I didn’t listen to him, instead driving through construction sites and sketchy parts of town for six weeks and, apparently, picking up a nail along the way.
I don’t know how to change a tire, and I just spent the last hour of my shift pretending to slide around on a pole that I have no place being on. I barely have the energy to even lift my phone and googlehow to change a tire.
But, of course, the best part is that once I do that, once I hype myself up and decide that itlooks easy enough, I realize I don’t have the spare this car allegedly came with.
I have a big empty space instead.
Just my fucking luck.
Is this what I get for spending my life with my head in the clouds, ignoring the red fucking flags of my family? Letting Lola take over and handle everything while I went off to school and chased my dreams? It has to be, right? It has to be some kind of penance.
I get it, universe. I’ve been a little shit, so caught up in my own life, I ignored vital signs. No need to keep a girl down when she’s trying to make it right.
Now all I can do is google how much a tow and new tires cost and mentally deduct that from my meager savings because the allowance that Paulie gives me barely covers food for the week, much less an emergency fund.
You know, once my sister told me this cute story about this girl she knows who had a flat tire and got totally stranded with no service, but she didn’t leave with more debt and a crippling panic attack. No, a hot tow-truck driver came and changed the tire for her, and then shemarriedthat hot tow-truck driver.
I look in my rearview and side mirrors, hoping to see the bright lights of a big truck, but no luck.
I was born out of bad luck and shit timing and left a trail of it in my wake, so it truly is just time that it caught up with me, I guess. As I sit back, my head hitting the seat, my eyes linger on the loose spots where the lining is coming apart from the roof, and I try not to throw myself a pity party.
My life was magical seven weeks ago, everything I thought I had worked to get.
And now I’m a stripper in a car with a flat tire.
Funny how life works that way, I think to myself, closing my eyes for just a moment to try and recenter.
Then something knocks at my window, and I scream.
Ten
-Lilah-
When I open my eyes, a man is standing with his face inches from mine, a single pane of glass between us, and I think,This is it.
These are my final moments.
I’m going to die in a fucking1992 Saturnon the side of the road wearing stripper makeup and a sweat suit.
As I continue to hyperventilate, I try to weigh my options. How far can I make it with a flat? Should I turn the key and floor it, or should I just accept that this is the last leg of my bad luck? But then the man smiles big and backs up, hands in the air like he’s trying to say he’s cool, he’s safe.
His full lips are moving, too, saying something, but I can’t hear him between the pounding of blood in my ears and the ringing from my scream that I think is still ricocheting in the small space.
“Jesus, Lilah, get it the fuck together,” I tell myself aloud before slowly—so very slowly—unrolling the manual crank window. I also double-check my locks to make sure that those are in place. Once there’s a one-inch gap, I speak.
“Can I help you?”
“I was going to ask you the same,” he says, giving me a charming smile.
He’s . . . cute. Tall. Very tall. Tanned skin, a bright white smile, dark, slicked-back hair with just a hint of silver at the temples. Adrianna would call him a silver fox,but I always thought that should be reserved for men with a full head of gray.
