Chapter 13 Sabrina
Tyler frowns at the hood for a moment, then turns to me with an apology in his eyes. “ ’Fraid I can’t do anything without some cables.”
I prop my hands on my hips. “What good is having a hot football player ride shotgun if he doesn’t even know how to fix a simple engine malfunction?”
His mouth twitches in a suppressed smile. “I can call Ryan for help—”
“No way.” I’m not pushing our luck after how easily he took the news today—I’m already grabbing my phone, deeply irritated with myself for not having cables in my car.
Our only set is in Mom’s, and we were supposed to get this one all fixed up and ready to drive this summer, but then her schedule changed, and I didn’t want to ask her to make a special trip to the store, and I was putting it off until we had some more time together…
and here we are. I sigh. “I do not need him taking advantage of this damsel-in-distress situation. There would be no shaking him for months.”
Tyler’s eyebrow ticks up in interest. “Are you saying you’re in a vulnerable position right now?”
Even through my haze of regret, my lips twitch in a smile. I turn away before he can see it, dialing Kara.
“Hey! Where are you?” she answers. “I’m waiting at the diner, and Harper is squawking about how she can’t let me have the booth this long without a full party, and—”
“Do you still have jumper cables in your car?” I interrupt.
She pulls up beside me a few minutes later, popping her hood and grabbing a bag from the trunk. “I just want you to know we’ve for sure lost the best booth by now,” she calls grumpily as she rounds the car.
Then she sees Tyler and stops, eyes wide. “Hello?”
Tyler just nods, already grabbing the cables. “Hey. It’s red on red, right?”
I google to confirm before giving him an impressed thumbs-up.
He tosses me a smirk over his shoulder. “We’ve been over this. I’m more than just a pretty face.”
Kara bugs her eyes out at me behind his back.
I slice my hand across my throat in the age-old sign for we’ll discuss this later—don’t you dare embarrass me.
She hesitates before hopping back into the driver’s seat of her car to give us some juice.
I’m just glad it’s her who came to our rescue and not Naomi, who would already be posting thirst traps of Tyler playing mechanic on her story.
After a minute of charging, my engine roars back to life when I turn the keys. Tyler carefully detaches the jumper cables and comes back around to the passenger-seat window. “Do we trust this thing to get us to the Lakeside?” he asks cheerfully. “Or should I be looking for a new job?”
I roll my eyes. “Get in. Kara, we’ll meet you there!” I call.
I’m on edge as we roll down the street, but Tyler sitting shotgun calms me. He starts humming along to the college radio station, and his pitch is so god-awful, I have to repress my laughter. But then it just gets worse, and I can’t help snorting.
“What?” He turns to me with oblivious, innocent eyes.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?” His eyes only widen farther.
“Pretend to sing badly. I mean, no one’s pitch is that… bad…” I trail off at the outraged look he’s giving me. “Oh. You’re not pretending?”
“Never pretended a day in my life,” he says solemnly, and I believe him. “There’s a reason I didn’t tell you my talent was show tunes.”
I laugh despite myself as we turn onto Main Street. “Speaking of which, we’re going to have to get you practicing that ventriloquism routine.”
He groans, but cuts it off midstream. “Yeah. Okay.”
I eye him suspiciously. “What changed your mind?”
The corners of his mouth quirk again in that mischievous smile. “Well, if your car is no longer going to be roadworthy, I’m going to have to come up with another reason to hang out with you.”
I pull into a parking spot in front of the diner with a jolt, turning to him with my mouth agape. I’m not regularly speechless, but Tyler’s sure done it.
He’s already halfway out the door, about to run to the diner to catch the start of his shift. But he pauses, turning back to catch my eye as he shuts the door.
“Hey,” he says, leaning in the open window.
My breath snags stupidly at the sight of his forearms braced on the sill, the way he ducks his head to meet my eyes. “Yeah?” I’m not sure what I hope he’s going to say.
He pauses for a second, then shakes his head. “You’re going to need to get that battery checked out. Promise? Can’t have you breaking down on the side of the road again. Especially not sometime you don’t have a hot football player to defend you.”
I don’t know why I’m disappointed. “Yeah. Of course. Though some good you were to me.” I summon another eye roll.
He grins back. “Hey, who got this thing going again?”
“Listen, I think I could have managed ‘red on red.’ ”
“I’m just saying it’s a good thing we didn’t have to find out.”
I laugh, but even I can’t come up with another excuse to keep him chatting here, and he has a shift to get to.
He seems to realize it at the same time, because he taps the windowsill reassuringly before turning to run inside.
He’s waylaid by half a dozen people, students and regular Hamilton Lakes citizens alike, and I know they’re asking about the upcoming season.
He slows to politely smile and nod at them, and I can almost hear his voice.
It’s a great team and it’s an honor to play with them, ma’am.
Yes, I think our chances at a state title are great this year.
No, there’s not a better team in the league.
I have to bite my cheek to stop myself from grinning like a loon.
My smile threatens to split my face. He’s settling in so well and is so kind to everyone—like a Hawk should be.
I’m just proud because he’s my new-student mentee. Just like I would be of anyone.
Gravel crunches behind me as a car rolls up. When I turn, Kara has both eyebrows raised in question. I hope I’m not blushing too hard as I slide out of the car and lead the way into Lakeside. The best booth is, sadly, indeed occupied.
“Where are Naomi and Priya?” I ask as we nab a table in the back.
She gives me a scathing look. Oh, she sees right through me. “Checking out that location for homecoming, per your instructions.”
“Oh yeah!” I drum my fingers on the table in excitement. “The theater in Greenfield? It’s in our budget, so as long as there’s not something terribly wrong with the space, that would be so cool. We could have some sort of Phantom theme!”
“Mm-hmm,” Kara deadpans, eyeing me like she’s just waiting for me to run out of excuses.
Not yet, I haven’t. I swipe open my phone.
“Gotta tell Mom about the car. I can take it in to get a new battery or alternator or whatever—I don’t want her using her days off for that—but she’s gonna have to give me the insurance info…
” I type and retype the message, trying to phrase it in the least alarming way possible.
By the time I look up to meet Kara’s eyes again, there’s a new tinge of concern there. “You don’t need to manage your mom’s emotions about your car, you know.”
I grimace. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, she has enough to deal with, okay? She doesn’t need this on top of everything else.”
Luckily, Harper swings by to drop off milkshakes, and Kara’s line of questioning is abruptly cut off.
Less luckily, I’m out of other topics to discuss. When Harper retreats, Kara leans forward over the table again, eyes bright. “So…” I slump in defeat, waving her on. “Why’re you hanging out with Tyler? I know you’re doing the homecoming thing and all, but I thought that was just as friends?”
I shrug, bending to slurp from my straw. “It is a friends thing. I was just giving him a ride to his shift.”
Kara side-eyes me. “Mm-hmm. Because you looked like you were giving him the full Sabrina.”
I grimace at her. “What on Earth is that?”
“Oh, most people don’t get it.” She waves a hand in the air.
“Usually only me, Naomi, Priya. You know. The Sabrina who’s not just trying to make you feel all spirited and confident and like you’re the most interesting person in the world.
The Sabrina who’s chattering your ear off because you make her feel like the most interesting person in the world. ”
I blink at her. She is… not wrong. Hanging out with Tyler turns off the overactive parts of my brain—the parts that are always making to-do lists and taking care of other people and trying to keep the peace.
He helps me stay in the moment—makes it impossible not to.
Maybe I do let him see a part of myself that not everyone gets access to.
I certainly found myself spilling my guts on that first drive home. And the situation has only gotten worse since then—I can’t find my filter around this guy.
Kara rests her chin in her hands, smiling smugly.
“Oh, whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Tyler’s… complicated. I don’t think getting involved is smart.”
My gaze drifts across the room, where he’s taking orders from a family of four. He’s smiling, bending down so he’s at eye level to talk to the youngest boy.
Right now, he doesn’t look complicated at all. He looks like the hot, kind, new football player who eagerly listened to me yap about Gilmore Girls for an entire car ride.
But going to homecoming as friends is enough of a risk already. We got lucky that Ryan shrugged it off without turning it into a whole drama—there’s no way I’m pushing it further. Not when hockey season and all my collaborations with his team still lie ahead.
“Yeah,” Kara says, and I look back at her. Her expression has turned a little more conflicted. “You might be right. I wasn’t sure if I should say this without knowing the facts, but I did hear a rumor.”
My breath catches. “What kind of rumor?”
She hesitates for a long moment. “A rumor he was kicked out of his last school.”
I cough on my milkshake. “Wait, what?”
She nods. “Lila said that’s why he transferred to Hamilton Lakes. I don’t know the details, but some kind of bad behavior.”
I frown. “It has to be pretty bad to get kicked out. I can’t picture Tyler doing anything that problematic.”
Kara holds up her hands. “Hey, I’m just telling you what I heard. Who knows what’s true. I just don’t want you mixed up in anything, you know?” Her gaze softens. “You’ve dealt with enough this last year.”
I have to look away. The pity in her eyes burns. Kara’s one of the few people who knows everything, and usually she lets me ignore it, but… well, she’s right.
For the last few years, I thought my parents were still in love. Maybe they didn’t go on dates or ask each other many questions about their days anymore, but I figured that was just what happened after decades of marriage.
Things got weird last fall, though. Dad started working later than ever, and he and Mom started griping a lot more than usual. I’d tried asking if something was wrong—looked my dad in the eye and said, Is everything okay?—and he’d looked right back at me.
There’s nothing to worry about.
So, I’d told myself to be grateful they weren’t having bigger fights, and I did my best to keep things from getting worse. Defused tense situations, was always ready with a smile and good news from school, made sure I wasn’t a problem that would give them anything to get upset over.
But then I’d signed on to the family desktop because I needed to print an English essay and my laptop was dead—and a bunch of iMessages popped up between Dad’s phone and some number I didn’t recognize. Before I could click away, I’d read more than I ever needed to know.
Though I spent a long moment staring at the blank screen, wishing I didn’t have to say anything, eventually I made myself tell my mom. Hoping things still might turn out okay. That maybe they’d talk it through, and figure things out, and love each other again.
Instead, they had the biggest, loudest fight I’d ever heard. Dad started with a Let me explain, and Mom screamed, Now I understand why you’ve been working so late, and it turned out they hadn’t been fighting because they’d been repressing all the deep damage between them.
And I’d been the one to release it. For the rest of the spring, our house was nothing but fights. Suddenly our mostly peaceful home was anything but.
They ended up setting some sort of record for the fastest divorce ever, because by the end of it, they were so ready to be free of each other.
Now I play mediator, carrying messages back and forth about important school news, and child support, and summer visits.
And I smile and show that I’m fine and do everything I can not to cause another explosion like the one that blew the cover off the tension we’d all been ignoring for years.
Maybe your senior year isn’t the worst time for all of this to be happening? Dad had suggested, face pleading with me to agree. You’ll be so busy, and you’ll have a year to adjust to it before moving out?
Sure. A lot of parents waited to divorce until their kid actually left the nest, but the last thing we needed was another thing to fight about.
I’d smiled and agreed and been very grateful I did have so many extracurricular responsibilities.
It kept me out of a house that was by turns silent and empty and then shaking with years of frustration.
So, yeah. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that. Not by rocking the boat with Ryan, not by risking too much with Tyler, not by fighting with Kara.
I shrug, and smile, and tell myself to be grateful she’s looking out for me. “You’re right. So, it’s a good thing we’re just friends.”
Kara looks at me knowingly for a long moment, then waves her hand to flag Harper down. “Another milkshake for the lady!” She turns to me with a smile. “As many as you need.”
I do my best to smile back. “The year of letting go is real, huh? Should we get fries, too?”
But I can’t stop hearing my own words echoing back.
A good thing we’re just friends.
Yeah. Good thing.