Chapter 5
FIVE
WE WERE ALMOST EIGHTEEN
I pull into the driveway and wince as the truck shudders when I put it in park.
Levi snorts. “Still have some work to do, I see.”
I huff a laugh and kill the engine. “It’s a work in progress. Be patient.”
Even though I’ve been working on it for a year. But at least it runs now. Dad gave me this truck when I got my license, and while he offered to get me something new and reliable, I wanted this one.
This old, rusted, red truck was at the farm supply store for months, half-buried in snow as it sat abandoned and forgotten.
I looked at it every time I went to the store with my dad or grandfather, and each time I became more curious.
When I finally asked the store owner about it, he said he just hadn’t bothered getting it towed away yet.
But when I looked under the hood, I was surprised.
I’d only worked on small engines before, like lawnmowers, tillers, and the broken snowblower in the garage.
But I could tell this one still had life in it.
So Dad towed it home, and Peter, one of the farm employees, helped me get it running again.
I spent weeks working on it every day after school, learning just what makes an engine run.
It still needs paint and other bodywork, and yeah… the engine still needs some work too. But it runs because I made it run. It just needed some care and attention.
As I climb out of the cab and spot Dad and Papa near the tractor garage across the lot, I immediately feel like I can breathe again. Because I’m finally home after a week at Mom’s.
And I hate that I feel this way.
Levi shuts the passenger side door and walks around the front of the truck. “Let’s get our homework done now so I can kick your ass in NHL 18.”
I roll my eyes at him and head towards the garage. “Everything you just said is ridiculous.”
He huffs a laugh and follows me.
“Hey, guys,” Dad says, wiping his hand on a rag as he steps back from a tractor with its hood up.
“Hey.” I stop beside him and glance at the tractor.
The front panel’s been removed, exposing a web of belts, hoses, and metal streaked with grease. A couple of parts are laid out beside it, and I let my eyes roam over them. A pulley assembly, throttle linkage, something that looks like it may be a water pump housing…
“What’s wrong with it?” I ask.
Papa leans back against the workbench. “It keeps running hot after a half hour. Just opened ’er up to figure out why.”
I nod and take a small step closer to the engine. Some of the seals look fine. But there’s a dried residue at the base of the water pump, and the thermostat housing looks newer than the rest of the engine. I scan the rest of the components as my fingers twitch slightly at my sides.
They already flushed the coolant, and the fan belt is still tensioned. But the wear on the gasket is uneven, and I’ve seen that before. In my truck.
When I turn back to Dad and Papa, Dad gives me a small, lopsided smile as he tilts his head towards the engine. “Thoughts?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
But Dad just keeps watching me as he crosses his arms over his chest and waits.
I blow out a breath as my eyes flick back to the engine. “Could be the bypass hose or the seal on the thermostat? If it’s leaking, even just a little, it could be screwing up the temperature reading.”
“Hm,” Papa hums, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring at the engine thoughtfully as a small smile plays at the corner of his lips. “You know, that does sound right.”
Dad smiles. “So what would you do next?”
My heart beats a little harder as I glance at the parts on the ground and back at the engine. “Pull the housing and check the gasket. If it’s warped, I’d replace it. And if the hose is dry-cracked, swap that too.”
Papa smiles widely and winks at me. “Looking forward to having you on full-time next year.”
A soft smile spreads across my lips, and I drop my gaze to the dirt at my feet, easing out of the uncomfortable weight of admiration and appreciation.
“So, Levi,” Papa says as he shifts his attention away from me, knowing it’s what I need. “Apply to any more universities?”
Levi chuckles, and I keep my eyes down. Because now I want to avoid reality.
He’s already applied to universities across the country, and I know he’ll get into all of them and have his choice to go anywhere he wants.
He can, and he should. And he shouldn’t pick UPEI just because I’m here.
He wants a tech-driven program in business systems or logistics, or something else that sounds like the future that I don’t understand.
And he isn’t going to get that at a smaller university.
“Just a few,” Levi says, and I can feel his eyes on me.
“Good man,” Papa says.
I lift my eyes and meet my dad’s as he gives me a sad smile.
“Come on,” Levi says, gently shoving my shoulder. “Let’s get our homework done.”
I sigh as my entire body starts locking up, and the tension rises inside me to fight against that idea, and against the overwhelmingly strong urge to say no. To run away and do anything but that.
Levi always wants to do homework right away so we can get it over with and have the rest of the evening free.
And I get it. He’s in IB, so he always has more than I do, and he’s weird and likes homework.
But I’ve already spent the whole day barely holding it together just to please everyone else and meet expectations we all know I won’t meet.
Every day feels like a slow walk towards my breaking point, and it’s always a gamble if I’ll make it there or not.
Every day I work so hard not to just flip the fucking table and yell at everyone and storm out of the school…
or my mom’s house. It’s so fucking hard.
But Dad catches my eye again. He smiles and tips his head toward the potato storage shed. “We need some dislodging done if homework can wait.”
Levi spins towards him with bright eyes, and a smile spreads across my face as the weight already starts to slip from my shoulders.
“Fuck yeah,” I say.
Dad and Papa’s laughter fades behind us as we race towards the shed and drop our backpacks at the entrance. Inside the massive building, we’re met with the smell of dirt and the humming sound of the industrial fans. And in front of us… a looming wall of potatoes.
This is my favourite part of harvesting season.
All the potatoes from the last few weeks are piled into this storage building, forming towering mounds.
They’re literal mountains, about ten or twelve feet high, and each variety is separated by thick wooden dividers.
They get dumped in by the truckload, layer after layer, so they’re packed tight, and when it’s time to move them, they don’t just slide out. They have to be dislodged.
And the best way to do that?
Throw more potatoes at them.
Levi and I crouch at the bottom of the pile, and each grab a firm russet potato. Then we launch them into the centre of the mound. Potatoes tumble down the dense pile, rolling until they come to a stop near our feet, and we laugh as they fall.
We keep going, and with each throw, and each laugh, my mind starts to clear and my body feels lighter. The tension drains from my muscles with every motion, and I pull a breath in that goes deep into my lungs. And the joy I’ve been unable to access all day… or maybe even all week… is finally here.
A heavy cascade rumbles down the pile, and I pause to watch it fall. As the mountain shifts slightly and the soft thuds echo around the building, I gather the courage to finally face this head-on.
“So…” I turn to Levi. “How many?”
Levi looks at me and lets the potato fall from his hand. But he doesn’t say anything.
“You never told me the final count,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady and even.
Levi nods. “Seven.”
My heart thumps, and as the last of the potatoes settle and their echoes fade away, my heartbeat is the only thing I can hear.
“McGill, University of Toronto, McMaster, Western, Queen’s, University of Alberta, and University of British Columbia.”
I drop my gaze to the potatoes at our feet and swallow hard.
They're all so far away.
I nod slowly and shift my eyes around the potato shed. The sound of the industrial fans that regulate the temperature does nothing to drown out my thoughts as I take in my future workplace and wonder if I’ll even be able to do this.
“Ok,” I say quietly. “I’ll be here.”
Levi doesn’t say anything.
Then a potato hits my arm with a solid thud.
“Ow!” I grab my arm where he hit me and turn to glare at him.
He just smiles.
“Get out of your head,” he says. Then his expression softens. “You know I’ll be home every summer, and every break. And you’ll come visit me too.”
I nod, even though my insides squeeze tighter and my heart thumps harder.
“And we still have all year,” Levi adds, another smile forming on his lips. “So, let’s make it a good one.”
I blow out a breath and nod again. Then I bend down, pick up a potato, and draw my arm back.
Levi’s eyes widen. He shakes his head and lifts his hands in front of him. “No.”
“Yes.”
That crisp white shirt could use a little dirt.
“Ow!” Levi yelps as I launch the potato straight into his stomach. He doubles over, clutching himself as he glares up at me. “That fucking hurts!”
“Well, yeah,” I say with a shrug, my arm still aching from his attack on me. “It’s a potato.”
He quickly grabs another one and hurls it at me, but I sidestep it with a laugh as it sails past.
A laugh sounds behind us, and we glance over to see John, one of the farm’s employees, heading towards the equipment room off to the side of the shed. “Potato war?” he asks with a chuckle. “Brave souls. Those things sting.”
“I know,” Levi and I say at the same time, turning back to glare at each other.
Levi’s expression shifts into something smug as he smirks and bends to grab another potato. I tense and reach for one too, ready to get him first.
But he doesn’t throw it.
“Bet you I can hit the top of the pile,” he says, tossing the potato up and catching it in his hand as he watches me. That familiar competitive spark is shining bright in his eyes. The one that means he’s already decided he’s going to win.
I look up at the towering mountain and huff out a laugh. “Yeah, right.”
His eyes light up, then he turns and puts everything he has into the throw. And it almost makes it to the top. But not quite.
“Hm,” I hum. “So close. Yet so far.”
Levi immediately grabs another, and I laugh as I throw mine too, both of us aiming as high as we can. Potatoes roll and tumble down the pile as we keep throwing, trying to reach the top and outdo each other.
And I won’t admit it to him… but he does get one higher than mine.
But it doesn’t matter.
What does matter is this moment. The moments of ease, familiarity, and comfort I have with Levi. I’ll take every one of them I can get over the next year.
Before everything changes.