Chapter 10
Auggie
Leon hasn’t spoken to me since we left his friend. He’s driving to the school so we can check progress there before the weekend hits, and I’m not sure why, but I’m feeling tension building between us, and I don’t want to go into the weekend thinking I’ve done something wrong.
One minute we were joking, and he was happy with the work I’ve been doing; the next moment, he completely shut down.
I have no idea what happened. But if he doesn’t say something soon, I’ll have to be the one to bring it up, and when I bring up conversations I don’t want to be having, they don’t tend to go well. Usually because I turn into a rambly, incoherent mess.
And I cry.
Gah.
Definitely not a personality trait I want to let Leon in on. It’s not like I can help it though. Whenever I’m frustrated with myself or feel like I’m letting someone down, my eyes start to leak until I can’t stop them, and then suddenly I’m full-blown sobbing.
I know it’s only a matter of time before he sees that particular side of me, yet I’d like to think I’m adult enough to make it through the first week without totally embarrassing myself.
Well, by crying at least. The general embarrassment ship has already set sail.
Leon pulls into the parking lot of the high school, and when he puts the truck in park, he hesitates for a moment before switching off the ignition.
I watch him for a cue that he’s about to say something. Instead, his expression tenses, and he opens his door instead.
I hurry to follow him. “Is, umm …” My voice lodges in my throat. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure, kid.”
I frown. “I’m not a kid.”
He picks up the pace and doesn’t answer me. Since that first time I corrected him, he hasn’t used that patronizing word again, and the fact he did then, without a swift apology, tightens my gut to lead.
It’s not a good sign—even if I have no idea what it’s possibly a sign of, I do know that.
Am I getting fired? What on earth could I have done?
Other than get a little flirty with him at times, I’ve been on my best behavior, and in my defense, he always gets a little flirty right back.
I think. I mean, it seems that way, but now I’m wondering if it’s only because I wanted to see it like that.
Oh no. A sickly sort of feeling starts to seep through me as I consider that maybe I’ve been making him uncomfortable.
I’m only human. Has he seen himself? He works with his shirt off half the time, for pity’s sake, and he constantly smells like sawdust or sweat or sunshine, and just how strong does he think I am?
I’m starting to feel panicky, because this is it, isn’t it? I’m making my boss uncomfortable because I think he’s sexy as hell and so sweet and kind, and now I’m going to be up on harassment charges.
I’m snowballing.
But it’s too late for rationality to try and kick in.
“Hey, Auggie?” Chris waves me over to a pallet of flooring. “You have your forklift license, yeah?”
“Of course.”
“Sweet. I need you to move these for me. Rory was going to, but Leon grabbed him to fix up the insulation we put up yesterday. Apparently it’s not right.” Chris rolls his eyes. “Picky man.”
“That’s a good thing though, isn’t it?”
“Mostly yes. But who actually cares if the insulation mats are at exact ninety-degree angles?” Chris shakes his head.
“Leon is a bit of a control freak. Jobs take longer because he insists on everything being perfect, and then he comes on-site and hovers and works over the top of us, and it throws us all out.”
“That sounds like a dedicated boss.”
“I love him, don’t get me wrong. He’s a hard worker.
But he expects us all to work to his level when he’s impossible to please.
” If I had to guess, Chris looks about forty or so, and standing there, staring toward the new rooms we’re building, he looks every day of his age. “I worry about him a bit.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s getting worse. Nothing’s ever good enough, and he’s clearly not sleeping half the time. Do you know on our last job, I showed up at six and he was still there?”
“From the night before?”
“Yep. Said we were behind. We weren’t, but he’d convinced himself we were. There’s only so long someone can keep that up.” Chris finally smiles. “We were all relieved when he hired you, that’s for sure. Maybe now he’ll take a breath.”
I know people have said before that he needs help, but I never realized it was that bad.
Great. Between stressing about work, and stressing about his newest hire coming on to him, Leon’s plate is full. It’s time I did what I’m here for and focus on work and only work.
That’s what Leon needs, so that’s what I’ll give him.
All right, Auggie. Head down, bum up.
I swing up into the forklift and turn it on with the key already waiting in the ignition. Dad taught me how to drive one of these things when I was fifteen, so it’s like second nature by this point. I line up the pallet and easily move into position.
“Where am I taking this?”
“Over to that wall. I’ll direct you.”
Chris waves me forward as Leon and Rory leave the building. My nerves immediately kick in at the sight of him, and I accidentally pulse the accelerator too hard. I ease up, cursing my clumsiness, determined to show Leon I don’t need him constantly watching me to do a good job.
But with him watching me, it adds that extra layer of pressure.
I follow Chris’s direction, the pressure mounting, when something doesn’t feel right. The forklift stalls over something, like the tire’s caught. I ease down on the accelerator.
Gently …
Gently …
The machine jolts forward. My foot hits the floor.
I get a swoop of warning in my gut before there’s a loud crash. Dust explodes over my vision, and my heart rate jacks up so fast I hear it in my ears.
I’m coughing through the dust cloud, and each pulse of air shoots pain down my ribs.
Fucking ouch.
“Auggie!”
What …
I groan and give my head a shake, trying to work out what’s happening.
Slowly, I loosen my white-knuckled grip on the wheel as dread seeps into my consciousness.
The dust starts to settle, and what it reveals makes my jaw drop. The forklift is now sitting exactly where a wall used to be.
Ohhh … please no.
I gasp as I look around, and when Leon reaches the forklift, he pulls me from the cab. “Auggie, shit! What happened?”
I’ve never seen him look even close to angry before, but right now I’m almost scared of him. I try to talk, I really try. I want to explain how the wheel got stuck and I only wanted to help and that I never, ever, ever meant for this to happen.
And no, no, no, the tears are threatening to come. I barely hold them back, but I can’t stop the tremors running through me.
I’d almost made it. Almost made a whole week without messing anything up, but this is what always, always happens.
Why am I like this?
“Stupid, stupid, stupid …”
This easily tops the list of most catastrophic events caused by me, and at this moment, there’s nothing I want more than to curl up in a ball and die.
I wanted to help. Instead, I’ve messed up everything.