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Twelve
Ellie
My little car issue turned into an all-afternoon endeavor.
Adding gas to my tank didn’t help at all. The car still wouldn’t start. Kept making this weird clicking noise every time I turned the engine. Jackson went on YouTube—no joke—did a little investigating and figured out it could be the alternator.
After waiting for a tow truck to show up, which took over an hour, we followed the driver to a local mechanic shop. I absolutely did not want to go that route. I can’t afford fixing my car right now, but Jackson insisted. He was kind of a dick about it, really. Gave me no choice but to go along with his decision, and I finally gave in.
Eventually.
We’re still sitting in the waiting room of the mechanic shop around three o’clock; Jackson texts one of his coaches and says he can’t make it to practice.
“Oh my God, you can’t miss practice,” I protest after he tells me.
He shrugs his broad shoulders, not seeming too bothered by it. “I don’t mind.”
“Will they be mad?” I really, really hope they won’t be mad. I don’t want him to get in trouble because of something that happened to me. Last year he skipped a couple of practices with Tony and the coaches came down hard on both of them.
“This is legit. I explained everything to them and they understand,” he says. “It’s not like I’m skipping just to be a prick.”
“What did you tell them?”
“I said I was helping out my girlfriend.” His cheeks turn red.
And my heart soars.
Stupid heart.
“Your girlfriend, huh?” I jab him in the ribs with my elbow, trying not to read too much into this whatsoever. “Didn’t realize we were in a relationship.”
It would be my every secret wish come true if we were in a relationship, but I know that won’t happen. And even if it eventually did, he would break my heart into a million tiny pieces and destroy me.
No thanks. I need someone safe. Like Carson.
Oh shit.
Whipping out my phone, I send him a quick text.
Me: I’m having car trouble right now. At a shop, waiting to hear the damage. I don’t know if I can make the movies tonight.
Carson: Oh no. What happened? I wondered why you weren’t in class.
It really killed me that I had to skip class. That is not something I ever do.
I explain via text to Carson everything that happened, that my afternoon has been really stressful so far, and how I don’t think I’m up to going out tonight.
Though honestly, if he would’ve tried to convince me that he still wanted to take me out and treat me right, I’d go for it. Silly but true.
Of course, he does none of that. He’s not insistent or commanding, like Jackson is. Walking around as if he can solve all the world’s problems—at the very least my problems—with a snap of his fingers.
Carson is more…sensitive. He’s understanding of my feelings, and doesn’t want to push.
That’s all Jackson does. Push, push, push.
Carson: Maybe another time then?
Me: Probably not till next week. I’m working every night for the rest of this one.
