Page 112 of Robbin’ the Rich

“No, you won’t.”

I made it into my classroom before collapsing into my chair, burying my face in my hands on the desk. When was this going to get easier? I took a deep breath. This was my own fault. If I was going to be a bigger man, a strong man, I needed to put in the work.

After another fortifying breath I head back into the gym to find the risers already taken down and the custodian cleaning up the last of the chairs. I grabbed my guitar and headed to my car.

“Merry Christmas!” the custodian called out as I walked past.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

The cold air hit me in the face as I entered the parking lot. Winter had definitely come to Briar Glenn sometime over the past two weeks. It was fitting. I got in my car and started the engine. Pearl Jam came on as Black filled my car.

Have I been listening to my bad day playlist on repeat? Yes, yes, I had. It'd been bad day after bad day lately.

Then I saw a flash of red hair under a hat bundled in a coat making her way down the sidewalk. She looked familiar.

I got out of the car and I was right. “Ariel!” I called.

She turned and grinned at me. “Hey, Micah! Long time no see!”

“Where are you going? It’s freezing out.”

“I’m just headed back to Lantern House.”

“Do you want a ride?”

“Are you serious?” she said jogging over. “I would love a ride.”

She made her way to the passenger side and got in. Pearl Jam was blaring, but I turned it down.

“I had to walk to the rink today for my shift. The van the shelter uses sometimes has a flat. I couldn’t fix it.”

“I can fix a flat.”

“Can you? That would be amazing. I mean I’m sure someone there can, but everyone has been so busy.”

“No, I would love to do it.”

“Well, if you would love to do it, who am I to stop you?”

When we pulled up to Lantern house the lights were on and it looked warm and inviting.

“Thanks for the ride! Ohio is so much colder than California.”

“I didn’t know you were from California.”

“Yep, I grew up around Berkley, but Briar Glenn is home,” she said with her signature grin.

“Is that the van?” I said looking over at the fifteen-passenger van with a flat in the driveway.

“Yep.”

“I’ll stop by tomorrow and fix it.”

“You’re the best! See you around!”

And just like that she hopped up the stairs and disappeared into the house.

The next day when the sun was up, I returned and knocked on the door. The van was still sitting there in the drive with a flat. After a moment, an older woman with gray hair pulled back in a loose braid and wrinkles bracketing her kind eyes answered the doors.