Chapter 20
COOPER
“Now, why do you think that’s hanging there? Just for shits and giggles?” Grandpa Kenny scolds as the front of the truck hits the back of the garage.
“Oh my god,” I groan, smacking my face.
“You gotta be careful, Son. Once you reach halfway into the garage, roll to a stop. And stop completely the second that tennis ball hits the window.”
“How many times did you hit the back wall until you had to put that tennis ball up?” Amara grins from the backseat, loving the pain I’m in.
Grandpa brushes her off with an eye roll, the toothpick in his mouth looking more and more like a weapon as the minutes go by.
“It’s always been up,” he says gruffly, popping his door open.
The three of us crawl out.
“Kenny, you’re going to teach me to drive, too, right?” Amara asks.
The truth is, I shouldn’t be driving. I’m still a few years out, but here, in the off-season, no one really cares. Grandpa has been teaching me to drive since I was little—mostly in parking lots.
As we get everything into the kitchen, Amara lets us know she’ll be right back. The second she’s out of the room, Grandpa turns to me.
“You better watch it, kid.”
My eyes widen, a sense of dread settling at the base of my stomach. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that we all get a little wrapped up in a girl pretty young. But that one is special.” He takes his baseball hat off, gesturing to the way she disappeared. “Find yourself before you get too invested, okay?”
I wish I could say I don’t know what he means. But I do.
Amara Flores has been a subject of my dreams for quite some time now.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “What should I do?”
“Well, one thing's for certain, you better not be sneaking out of my god damn house. I swear if I hear that damn window open one more time, I’m going to tear you a new asshole, boy. Just use the damn door next time.”
One thing about Grandpa is that he doesn’t tend to sugarcoat things. Unless, of course, your first name happens to be Amara, last name, Flores.
“I swear it’s just an insult to my intelligence,” he continues to grumble. “But just wait. All good things come to those who are patient. You’re a good kid. It’ll happen in time.”
“How did you meet Grandma again?” I ask.
Half of me hates bringing her up. Every single time I do, Grandpa stares off into space, looking a little sad. But I love hearing about her.
“We met in high school. Knew she was the one for me the second I saw her.”
“You guys got married young, didn’t you?” I ask.
Grandpa chuckles. “Too young, in today’s standards. We were seventeen. Neither of us knew what we were getting into.”
“I think I could get married early.”
Grandpa looks at me for what feels like ages, and when we hear Amara making her way back down the hall, he takes his toothpick out of his mouth.
“I think it’s best if you focus on the little things right now, kid.
Tell you what. When you can park the truck without hitting the back of that damn garage, we can talk about grown-up things. ”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”