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Milo clears his throat. “If you’ll just sign this release form, she’s good to go.”
Bodhi releases me, walking toward the office with Milo to take care of the paperwork, and I just stand and stare. I can’t believe he put this much effort into fixing my car. I mean, it only needed some body repairs and light maintenance. But this? This is like showroom-floor ready.
He had to have spent a fortune on parts alone. Not to mention labor.
An uneasy feeling settles in my stomach, and the guilt from last night comes back in full force.
I don’t deserve any of this. There is no way I’m going to be able to repay Bodhi’s kindness in all of this.
“Ready?” Bodhi calls out, swinging my keys around his index finger.
I do my best to disguise the way I’m feeling and smile brightly. “Yes.”
We say thank you to Milo and climb into the Camaro. When I turn the key, the engine roars to life, and the vibrations send chills up my arms and down my back.
“Let’s see what she can do,” Bodhi says from the passenger seat.
I pull out and take the road all the way to the highway, and then I let loose and just drive.
The Camaro drove like an absolute dream. Better than it ever has before, and I was beyond grateful for Bodhi’s generosity, and Milo’s as well. It took so long, and he had to dedicate so much of his time to fixing my car. Time he could have spent on other things.
That weight of unworthiness set in, and I haven’t been able to shake it since Bodhi drove back home a few hours ago.
Sitting in my mother’s kitchen eating dinner, she watches me with a keen eye, and I know that she knows something is going on.
“Honey, what is it? Are you not happy to have your car back?” she asks, setting down her fork and wiping at the corners of her mouth with a paper towel.
“Of course I’m happy,” I sigh, pushing the fried rice across my plate, no longer hungry.
“Then what seems to be the problem?”
“I don’t know, it’s just… a lot,” I confess, sighing heavily as I set my fork down and push my plate back.
“Why do you think that? Was he not the one responsible for your accident?” She asks in that motherly tone that tells me she’s going to get to the bottom of things.
“Yes,” I sigh, dropping my head into my hands.
“Then why feel guilty? It isn’t your fault that he chose to pay for the damages out of pocket,” she says.
“I know, but I don’t think it was exactly his idea either,” I mumble under my breath.
“What do you mean?”
“His dad is his boss, and I guess he was more concerned over how the accident made business look for him, so he forced Bodhi to pay for everything himself as punishment or something,” I explain, my dislike for his father not held back.
“Well, that doesn’t seem fair,” Ma says, concern for Bodhi creasing her expression.
“It wasn’t, but that’s not what I was getting at. It’s that he completely, and unnecessarily, refurbished the Camaro. It probably didn’t even look this good when it was first manufactured,” I whine, really hating how I feel about this right now.
“So?” she says, pushing me to speak my mind.
“Ma…”
“Keaton, that was his decision to go to such lengths, was it not?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. Did you ever think that maybe that boy wanted to do that because he cares for you?” she says, and I drop my head to the tabletop, knowing she’s probably right.
