Page 176 of Ice Mechanic

“I’m the worst,” I mumble over and over again. “I’m the worst, May.”

“No, you’re not. You’re human. And you’re in love.”

I push my hair out of my face and look up at her pathetically. “What do I do now?”

“I have no idea, but I’m confident that you’ll figure it out. I’ve seen you fix cars every other mechanic had given up on. When you hit a wall, you did your research, you thought it through, and you attacked the problem again. This will be no different. The answer might be to keep going, to give Chance an ultimatum or just to break up with him—I don’t know. But whatever you decide will be the right choice.”

“Thank you,” I say, looking up at her with glassy eyes.

“That therapy session will cost you.”

I laugh, glad that she broke the moment with a joke. “How much?”

“Let me think about it.” May clears her throat and walks over to my desk. “Take your medicine. I’ll warm up the soup.”

I look at my sister’s retreating back and feel a sense of pride. After June left and dad got sick, I took on a pseudo-motherly role with her. It wasn’t easy either. Dad was forgetting things, and May was in her angsty teenager stage.

Despite all that, I think I did alright. After all, she turned out amazing.

“Evan?” May’s voice shrieks from the front room. “Why are you here again?”

“May! May, put the broom down. May!” Evan shrieks.

Alarmed, I shoot out of bed and race into the living room. My ex is cowering at the door while my little sister is threatening him with a broom.

“May!” I grab the broom from her before she actually whacks him with the thing. It would be deserved, but I don’t want Evan complaining to his sheriff uncle. My sister might spend an evening in jail for assault.

“I think you need a restraining order, April,” May says fiercely. “This has to count as stalking.”

Evan’s mouth opens and shuts. “S-stalking? I’m not stalking! I brought over some food from The Tipsy Tuna.”

“We don’t need?—”

I hold out an arm before May can advance. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod.

My sister gives Evan a dark glare and stomps back to the kitchen.

Moving gingerly, I step onto the porch and close the door behind me. Evan gestures at the flat bench where we sometimes set out our Christmas decorations.

“You should sit. You still look weak,” he says awkwardly.

I wave a hand. “Why are you here, Evan?”

“You like burgers and?—”

“I meant, why are you here acting all sweet?”

“I’m always this sweet, April.”

“No, you weren’t. Not to me. We dated each other because we both could spend hours talking about cars. But ultimately, that was where the attraction ended for you. Didn’t you say I was too much like a ‘buddy’ and that’s why you cheated?”

He hems and haws. “I didn’t mean it like that, April. And why bring up the past?”

“Tell me why you’re buying me food and showing up at the hospital, Evan. And don’t lie to me. I can tell when you’re being dishonest now.”

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