Chapter 6 #2
They sat quietly for a moment. The chill air seeped into his clothes, matching the cold coming up through the pavement.
Martina’s grandmother had fixed his hoodie, but it was still too thin.
Rick wanted to laugh, but he didn’t think there would be any humor in the sound.
His hoodie, just like everything else in his life, wasn’t enough.
Martina nudged him with her shoulder. “Good thing we don’t have to do it alone.”
Rick stared at her uncomprehendingly. “What?”
“It’s a lot—this whole week has been a lot. But you’ve got me. I’ve got you. We’ve got my family. You’ve got yours. I know you don’t like to ask them for help, but you’ve still got them. So.”
He felt so weary all of a sudden, he put his cheek on his knee. “So?”
“So let’s use my big brain and your big brain—if it’s done malfunctioning because Nika isn’t around—and figure this thing out.”
“Okay.”
Martina chewed on her lip. “Let’s break it down, one thing at a time. Can we get it towed?”
“Tow trucks cost money,” Rick said. “I don’t even have enough for the tires.”
“Would your uncle’s shop have tires? Could he front you some?”
Rick thought about it. His uncle did what he could, but he had a business to run.
If Rick couldn’t get to his shift later at the shop, though, they’d lose money, since Rick took on a lot of the smaller grunt work so his uncle could focus on the bigger jobs.
“I think it would depend on whether he could get his hands on the tires I need. Sometimes you have to order those things in, and we’re not a tire place. ”
“How likely is it that he could track them down?” Martina asked.
Rick sawed his hand back and forth. “Could go either way. But what he would have is a spare I could borrow.” He took out his phone and called his uncle. When he didn’t answer, he called the shop.
“Victor’s.” The voice that answered wasn’t his uncle’s but Shauna’s, the other shop mechanic and Vic’s best friend since before Rick was born.
“Hey, Auntie Shauna, it’s Rick. My uncle around?”
“Sure, kid. Hold on.” She muffled the receiver. “Victor! Get your butt to the phone.”
A few seconds later, his uncle came on the line. “Vic.”
“Hey, Uncle Vic, it’s me. I’ve got a problem.” He explained quickly, giving the bare details. Victor cursed, and Rick winced.
“That wasn’t at you, kid, but the situation,” Victor said.
“Hold on.” The sound muffled, and Rick was pretty sure his uncle had put his hand over the receiver of the phone.
“Hey, Shauna, you got it for a while?” Victor was back on a second later.
“Hold tight, kid. I’ll be there in ten minutes. We’ll get you sorted.”
“Thanks, Uncle Vic.”
His uncle grunted. “Of course.” Then he hung up.
A little over ten minutes later, Victor showed up in his pickup truck. He got out, sauntering around back to grab the tools he needed.
“Your uncle is also gas station hot, by the way,” Martina whispered.
Rick stared at her.
She shrugged. “He’s like a bulked-out you but with dimples.”
Rick eyed his uncle, whose shaggy dark hair was mostly covered by a backward baseball cap.
He couldn’t quite see himself in the casually confident way his uncle moved.
“I once saw him smile at a girl at the river—that was it. He smiled, and she came over. He didn’t even have to say anything. They dated for, like, six months.”
“And Nika asked for your phone number even though it sounds like you said a whole lot of nonsense,” Martina pointed out.
“That’s different,” Rick said stubbornly.
“What’s different?” Victor asked, guiding the automatic jack. “Hey, Teeny. I like the new do.”
“Thanks.” Martina gave her hair a little flip before answering his question. “I’m trying to explain to your nephew that the reason he doesn’t do as well as you with the ladies is due to a lack of confidence and not to a lack of your family’s handsome genes.”
He grinned at her. “It will never work. I’m too old for you.”
“And a dude,” Martina said. “So, agreed.”
Victor laughed, then ruffled Rick’s hair. “She’s right, though. You took more after our side of the family, thank fu—uh, thankfully.” He squinted at Rick. “You get into a fight?”
“I tripped,” Rick said dryly.
Vic cocked his head. “Did another dude also trip?”
“Yup.”
“I’ll leave it at that for now, but I’ve got fu—follow-up questions.” He jerked his head toward the truck. “I brought you another spare. Get it, eh?”
Rick got up and did as he was told, also grabbing a few other things they’d need. “Mom getting on you about swearing in front of us again?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Apparently your sister has been dropping f-bombs and it’s my fault.” He leaned toward Martina. “Is this sudden interest in my looks about the girl he can’t talk in front of?”
Rick looked away, grumbling, “Yeah.”
“He apparently chatted her up about tampons today,” Martina added.
“Traitor,” Rick mumbled as his uncle barked a laugh.
“Dude, no.” Victor motioned Martina out of the way and got to work jacking up the van. “You just got to relax. Be respectful. Don’t try lines or bullshit. You’re a good guy. She’ll figure that out.” He grunted. “That’s another way you take after our side. Not like that asshole.”
While Rick had moved on to weary acceptance of his dad leaving, his uncle hadn’t moved much past the anger stage, which Rick found oddly comforting.
They spent a few minutes helping Victor make quick work of changing out the tires. Uncle Vic grunted at their finished work. “It’s going to be a little lopsided, but that will get you home. Help me get these in the truck, yeah?”
Rick grabbed the second tire, hefting it into the back of his uncle’s pickup.
Victor examined them quickly, running deft hands over the deflated tires.
“Here’s your problem.” He looked up at Rick, his expression concerned.
“These are slashed. What’s going on, kid?
You piss someone off?” His concern deepened as he got a better look at the small bruise blossoming on Rick’s face. “Is this about the yearbook thing?”
“I got in a fight with Paxton earlier.” Rick traced the slash with numb fingers before Martina shoved him out of the way to see for herself.
“He the kind of kid who would slash tires?” Victor eyed the school. “And be smart enough to pick the side away from any cameras?”
“Doesn’t seem like his style,” Martina admitted begrudgingly. “As much as I’d like to blame Paxton for literally anything.” She glanced at Rick before continuing on. “Rick also got a letter.”
Vic crossed his arms, his expression stern. “What kind of letter?”
Rick described it as best he could, Martina jumping in as they caught his uncle up on everything. Rick hadn’t meant to spill all of it, but his uncle was one of those kinds of people you just ended up blabbing all your secrets to.
Victor digested the new information before shaking his head slowly.
“I don’t like that it came to your house.
I don’t like slashed tires, either.” Victor shut the back of his truck.
“That’s some worrisome shit.” He pulled Rick in for a big hug.
“Be careful, okay? I like you.” He kissed Rick’s head, then held an arm out for Martina.
“Hey, this is a family hug. Bring it in, Teeny.”
Martina crashed into them both, allowing herself to be pulled into the hug.
“Be careful, both of you, seriously,” his uncle said, all humor suddenly gone. “Take care of each other.” After they both mumbled assent, he let them go. “Good. I’m going to go pick up some tires for you, Rick. Don’t argue.”
Rick clicked his mouth shut. He had been about to argue.
“Kim says she’s got some at her place. I’ll get ’em on the way back to the shop. We’ll put them on tonight. She said call or stop by her shop tonight or tomorrow and she’ll set up a payment plan for you. Okay?”
Relief made Rick almost dizzy. “Thanks, Uncle Vic.”
“Of course,” Victor said gently. “I wish I could just buy them for you, kid.” His uncle let out a sigh, shaking his head with exasperation. “I wish I knew where your dad was so I could punch him right in the ffff—face.”
“Yeah, I know.” Rick wondered which of them had thought about punching his dad more, him or his uncle. It was probably a draw.
Victor got into his truck, giving them a lazy wave as he drove off.
Martina gave him an equally lazy wave in return. “Well, that was more fun than lunch.”
Before Rick could answer, his phone buzzed. Hey, Rick. It’s Nika.
“You have a weird look on your face,” Martina said, peering around him to see what he was staring at.
“Ah.” She stepped in front of Rick, grabbing his shoulders.
“My friend, so far, you’ve not been at your best. That’s okay.
She’s clearly into it, or she wouldn’t text you.
I know you—you’re awesome. You just need to show her. ”
Rick swallowed hard as he saved Nika’s number into his contacts. He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. Finally he typed, hey.
“No,” Martina said. “You can’t just say ‘hey.’ Don’t be that guy.”
He growled in frustration. “Then what?”
“Okay.” She pursed her lips. “Something warm. Be friendly. But not too friendly. Tell her she looked nice today. No. That’s coming on too strong. Ask her what she’s doing later. Or wait—”
Rick shook his head and added Nika after the hey. Then, thanks for the help earlier. He hit send.
“Oh,” Martina said, deflating a little. “Yeah, that’s good. Not exactly shouting your love from the rooftops, but it’s a start.”
“Shouting my love from the rooftops after one text falls directly under the category of ‘coming on too strong.’ ” Rick shot her a look. “I want to talk to her, not inspire a restraining order.”
Three little dots appeared on his screen, and they both held their breath. Long seconds ticked by before the message finally appeared.
You’re welcome! What are you doing later tonight?
Martina sucked in a breath as Rick’s pulse started beating double time, right before the bitter taste of disappointment filled his mouth. “Shit,” he said. “I have to work.”
Martina groaned. “Noooooo.” She scrunched up her face. “And after today, you definitely can’t leave your uncle hanging.”
“No, I cannot.” He typed out a quick response. Working until 9.
Where do you work?
He hesitated, wishing for one second that he had a cool job or the kind of job that would impress Nika. But it was also what he wanted to do. What he liked to do. Cars made sense in a way that life didn’t. If they had any chance at all, Nika would have to understand that.
Victor’s garage.
Will it be too disruptive if I stop by? There’s something we need to discuss.
“She even texts like a smart kid,” Martina whispered, once again peering around his shoulder. “That’s hot.”
Rick ignored her. Should be fine.
Cool! See you later!
He stared at his phone for several moments, but no more dots or messages appeared.
“What are you going to wear?” Martina finally asked.
Rick turned his stare on his best friend, amused. “It’s a garage, Teeny. I’m going to wear coveralls.”