3. Warren
CHAPTER THREE
WARREN
“ K nock, knock,” I say, rapping my knuckles against the door frame of my dad’s office. He’s hunched over his desk, glasses on the tip of his nose, as he analyzes receipts and organizes invoices. He refuses to go paperless. Pops is old school.
I live with my dad and sister in a decent sized apartment above the auto shop he owns. Mom left years ago, when we were just kids, and it’s been the three of us ever since.
Pops grunts so I take that as my cue to come in and plop down on the overstuffed leather armchair in front of him. He sets his reading glasses on his desk and stares at me expectantly. Val and I have the same gray eyes as him, although his are a little more dull and a lot more cynical. “What do you need, son?”
“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” I assure him.
“Spit it out, Warren. No games and no shenanigans. What do you want?”
I square my shoulders and clear my throat. I’m cool, calm, and collected when I propose my bargain, like I’m making a deal with the devil. “I was wondering about that old RV that came into the shop recently. You want to fix it up and sell it, right?”
My dad hums his agreement, nodding.
“Well, I was thinking I could be the one to fix it up—on my own time of course—and then borrow it for a couple weeks before you sell it.”
He eyes me warily, most likely playing a reel of my worst teenage highlights in his mind. “What would you do with it?” he questions with a suspicious tone.
I can’t stop my smile from spreading, and there’s no hiding the enthusiasm in my voice. “Take it on a road trip with Kyle. We’re headed to the Pacific.”
My old man stares at me for a moment, analyzing the excitement in my eyes and the joy written all over my features.
I need this, and Kyle needs this, too.
Please say yes.
“ Fine. But don’t ask me for a dime, Warren. I ain’t got it,” he grumbles, and I jump up with a hoot and a holler, pumping my fist into the air.
I can’t wait to tell Kyle.
“Okay, Pops. I don’t need any money. Promise. Thank you. I really mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, dismissing his own kind gesture. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement,” he reasons.
My dad is not the mushy type. Emotions make him uncomfortable, so I try to minimize it for him, but under his gruff exterior, he’s a good man.
“I won’t let you down,” I insist.
Pops grunts, unlocking his desk drawer and pulling out a ring of keys, flipping through a few before he takes one off. “Don’t make me regret this, son.” He hands the key over, lowering his brows with a frown.
“ I won’t, ” I say vehemently, maintaining eye contact so he knows I mean it.
I got this, no problem. I can fix anything.
“What’s going on?” Val saunters into the garage in tiny pajama shorts and a crop top. Her long raven hair is piled into a messy bun on the top of her head.
My old man leans around me and shouts through his office door. “Valentina!”
“What?! ” she snaps back with an attitude, walking over and leaning against the door frame to speak to him.
“Oh, hey, little bro.” Val smiles sweetly when she notices me sitting in the oversized chair.
“Put some clothes on for Christ’s sake. You’re distracting my men, and that could cost someone a finger,” Pops says harshly.
I hear a loud crash and a small clatter out in the garage, followed by a muffled curse.
Valentina laughs inappropriately. “I don’t even have any makeup on, so if they’re distracted by this baby face, then gross on them.” She rolls her eyes. “Besides, I live here. I can dress however I want, whenever I want.”
I can’t help but chuckle at my sister’s give-no-fucks attitude, even though I know it’s exasperating for Pops. Val and I are only a year apart, with her being the older one, but sometimes it feels more like we’re twins. She’s pretty much the girl version of me, and I know we gave my dad hell growing up and probably still do.
“I’m gonna fix up that old RV in the back of the lot, then take it on a road trip with Kyle,” I blurt out, distracting Val from an impending argument with Pops.
“Aw, man. That sounds like so much fun. I’m super jelly,” Val says with a small smile and a wink.
There isn’t much time left before the semester is over, and I don’t want to waste a day. I have no idea what I’m going to find under that hood. My impatience to get started is killing me, but I send Kyle a quick text, letting him know the good news.
The RV is a go! I just gotta fix it first.
No fucking way! You got this, bro.
Getting started now. Too excited.
So stoked!
I tuck my phone away, say goodbye to Pops and my sister, and leave through the back door of the shop. The dirty, old RV is parked under a giant pine tree in the back lot, but at least it’s shaded. I stick the key in and turn slowly, afraid a raccoon might jump out.
It’s happened before.
Luckily, nothing but silence greets me, so I step up and climb in. Dust mites dance in the rays of sunlight peeking through the dingy windows. I cough, swiping my hand through them. It definitely needs to be aired out, but I gaze around at the open space in front of me, including a full kitchen, bathroom, and a king-sized bed. A slow smile curls my lips. This is nicer than I thought it’d be. I can definitely imagine Kyle and I living here for two weeks . Or longer.
It takes three attempts, but the engine finally turns over, rattling loudly. I pull the old clunker into the side garage that’s separate from the main one where Pops services customer vehicles.
I pop the hood and grab a wrench, ready to see what I’m working with.
She’ll be purring by the time I’m done with her.