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“What do you mean it stopped? Did you stall it?”
“No, I didn’t stall it. I know the difference. The car shut off. It’s dead or something.”
“Where are you?”
I looked around for a street sign. “I’m on Amboy Road. There’s a Dunkin’ Donuts across the street.”
“Sit tight. I’ll be right there.”
Within minutes, Tanner’s Mustang roared behind me. I watched him from my side mirror and the pace of my heart quickened. He was still in his work clothes, his hair sticking up in all directions. I noted his dark circles earlier today. Was he not sleeping well?
“Here’s my phone.” Tanner switched on the flashlight app as I got out of my car. “I need you to hold the light so I can look under the hood.”
I held the phone above my head, tilting it toward the engine. “What would make the car just shut down like that?”
“Did it make any noises?”
“Like a choking, knocking sound.”
Tanner tinkered with several tubes and uncovered the tanks under the hood. “Everything looks fine.” He heaved a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “Go start the car for me. I want to see what happens.”
I handed him his phone and plopped into the driver’s seat. “Ready?”
“Go.”
The car would not start.
“Maybe the battery is dead?”
He leaned onto the roof and stuck his head through the window. Don’t look at his biceps. Don’t look at his biceps. “I would say yes, but I just put a new battery in here the day before you bought it.” He looked at the gauges on my dashboard. “Stupid question, but … you had gas, right?”
I nodded. “It had a full tank.”
“When did you fill up last?”
“I haven’t had to fill up yet.”
His eyebrows pulled together. “You haven’t put any gas in since you bought it from me?”
I gestured to the dashboard. “It said it was full. Why would I get gas?”
“Has the needle moved at all?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Char, you got the car a few weeks ago, and you haven’t had to put any gas in it. You don’t think that’s weird?”
My shoulders slumped. “Well, I do now.”
“Come on. We’re going to get gas.”
Tanner drove us to the nearby gas station and filled the red gas jug to take back to my car. We returned and he poured the gas in. He then sat in the driver’s seat and started the car, and it roared to life.
He turned to me with a smirk. “I found the problem.”
“Yeah, me,” I mumbled. “I feel so dumb.”
“You’re not dumb. You didn’t know.”
