Page 22 of Never Have I Ever

“It’s been so long since I’ve held hands with anyone,” I whisper without thinking of the consequences.

He’s fast, pulling back and downing half his beer. His eyes land on anything and anyone other than myself, but he still asks, “Why’d you do that?” His gaze finally meets mine, giving me comfort I didn’t know I was seeking. “Why did you say we were together?”

I glance away, seeing the server with her hands on some other guy at the bar. “I, um . . .” Turning back, I say, “You look like you need saving.”

“Looked or look?”

“Looked,” I correct. “You looked like you didn’t appreciate her hanging on you.”

He chuckles, but no smile appears. “Now you’re worried about me? Interesting.”

“What is interesting about it? You looked like you didn’t want the attention. I helped you out. End of story.” I push up from the chair. “What is wrong with you? Why are you so awful?”

“You tell me, Poppy.” Hearing my name reminds me of how he said it back at the cabin when I fell.

“So you were expecting me?”

He almost spews the beer in his mouth. As he sets it down, his laughter overtakes him. “Yeah, you’re a few years late.”

“What? Ugh.” I throw my hands in front of me. “I can’t do this anymore.” I turn to leave and start weaving through the tables.

“Nothing’s changed,” he says, causing me to stop. “You just run away without saying a fucking word, not even goodbye.”

I have no idea what he’s going on about, so I keep walking until I’m outside. I’ll take the cold over the company inside any day. Leaning against the front of the truck, I wrap my arms around myself, keeping the cardigan pulled tighter around me.

The purpose is lost even on me after a while. I could have been eating in the warmth inside instead of standing in the cold out here. My pride is too sensitive right now to go back, so I hold my position, frustrated I didn’t charge my phone when I was at the table.

I catch two guys as they head for the door. They look local enough by how they appear to be dressed like everyone else in Maggie’s. “Excuse me, do you have the number of a mechanic by chance?”

The two stop, and both adjust their jeans by pulling them up at the waist. The one with a backward ball cap replies, “You’re standing in front of him now. I’m the closest for twenty miles.”

“It might be my lucky day after all.”

He grins, looking me up and down, and then comes a little closer. “It just might be. How can I be of service?”

“My car broke down about fifteen or twenty minutes from here. I need to get it towed to the shop.” Not wanting to sound like I don’t know what I’m talking about, I add, “Dead battery and might need to take a look at the fuel pump.”

“Well, first off, that describes almost every road in the county. Any names or signs?”

My memory snaps back. “Yes, there was a bear sign. A bear crossing sign.”

“That doesn’t help. These woods are full of them. How do you know it’s the fuel pump?”

“Wild guess and some sputtering.”

Rubbing his chin, he says, “Doesn’t matter the make or model. I don’t keep pumps at the shop, so I’ll have to order it.”

My hope falls along with my shoulders. “How long will that take?”

“Probably a week. Sometimes less if Agnes’s hips are giving her trouble.”

Why do I feel like I’m on another planet? “Who’s Agnes?”

The guy with him appears bored by how he’s kicking up dust. Reaching for the door, he says, “Come on.”

“The mail carrier.”

“What? Can’t we just get it from LA tomorrow?”

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