Page 46 of Wreck Me

The sun had nearly set, and the streetlights had come to life, basking me in their dim glow as I approached the empty bus stop and took a seat on the bench. The cold bite from the stone seeped through my jeans, sending a small shiver through my body. I tucked my hands into the pocket of my sweatshirt, but within seconds, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

A number flashed on the screen that seemed vaguely familiar. “Hello?” I answered, hoping it wasn’t a spam call. They were getting more resourceful lately and calling from numbers with the same area code. It was annoying.

“Kid, it’s Dave. Got a minute?”

“Sure,” I told him coolly, even though an unprecedented excitement ran through me, hoping my car was repairable and I could pick it up soon.

“I’ve got good news, bad news, and a proposition,” Dave grunted through the speaker. “The good news is, I’ve collected most of the parts we need to fix your junker.”

Relief washed over me. I licked my lips, suppressing a smile. “The bad?” I prompted.

“Gettin’ there. The bad news is, still lookin’ for a transmission. Haven’t found a single one that’s worth a damn. And now, before you interrupt me again, the proposition. I’m lookin’ for someone to run the desk. Stephen quit on me last week and I don’t got time to do everything myself. Pay is decent, but I thought you might be interested in workin’ out a deal to pay off what ya owe for your car. Was thinkin’ two-thirds of your hourly earnings could go to a paycheck and a third of it’ll be put toward your debt. Whatcha’ think, kid?”

My eyes widened at his offer—I was so caught off guard, it rendered me speechless. Running a shaky hand through my messy hair, the word ‘yes’ sat on the tip of my tongue while my mind honed in on the only—but arguably most important—question lighting up in my brain like a neon sign.

“I’m hoping to start the police academy in the spring, and it doesn’t leave me with much of a schedule to work with. It’s full-time, Monday through Friday, eight to five. Are you willing to work with my schedule once I’m enrolled in the academy?”

“You sure you’re going in the spring?”

“Well, no. I still need to apply. If they take me, I might not get a spot until summer, or even fall.”

“Then you work a normal schedule until ya know when you’re goin’ in. Once they take ya, we’ll renegotiate a shift. I can always use help after hours cleanin’ the place and catchin’ up on paperwork.”

The city bus rounded the corner, its gears whining as it slowed to a rolling stop. A loud, groaning air release expelled as the doors opened, and the driver, Larry, greeted me with a friendly smile, tipping his chin.

I lifted my hand in a short wave, cradling the phone between my face and shoulder as I reached behind in my pocket and pulled out my TAP card to scan. “What's the starting wage, sir?”

“Seventeen an hour. Need ya eight hours a day.”

Seventeenan hour? That was nearly two-fifty an hour more than I made at Pack N Mail.

Tossing my backpack onto an empty seat, I slid in next to it with a huge grin on my face. “You’ve got yourself a new desk guy,” I told Dave happily. “I’m in my final few weeks of college though and can’t start an eight-hour shift until I finish up my finals at the end of the month. Is starting off as part-time going to be an issue?”

The bus groaned as it accelerated down the road, heading to the heart of the city. Four stops stood between me and the stop closest to Isla’s apartment, and for once I was grateful for the time it would take to get there. This conversation wasn’t done–details surrounding my car still needed to be worked out.

“Nah, kid, that works for me. You gotta ‘nother job you gotta quit first?”

Shit. Giving notice hadn’t even crossed my mind. Pack N Mail had been a relatively good employer. It didn’t feel right to leave them high and dry. As much as I hated the idea of puttingseventeen dollarson hold for another two weeks, I also wanted to keep them as a good reference.

“I do.” I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “I don’t go in tomorrow, but I will give them my letter of resignation on Saturday. I’d like to give them two weeks, out of respect. So realistically I wouldn’t be able to start at the shop for another two weeks.”

“Damn right you need to be respectful,” Dave laughed. The sound felt unnatural coming from him. Based on our brief interactions, Dave struck me as a very serious man. A little rough around the edges—someone who took no shit, had a very dry, practically nonexistent sense of humor, and who had seen some things in his lifetime. “Your first day will be December 20th, then. Sound good?”

My head was nodding even though he couldn’t see it. “Yes, yes, sir, sounds great. Thank you for this opportunity.”

“Alright, kid.”

“Oh, another couple of questions before we hang up.”

Dave’s grunt echoed into my ear, and I took it as my sign to continue.

“You said it was hard to find a transmission. What are my options with that? And—this one’s a long shot—does the garage have any spare vehicles I can borrow or rent in the meantime? This bus shit is eating up so much time.”

The line was silent for a moment, and if it hadn’t been for the sound of tools muffled in the background on Dave’s end, I would have wondered if he hung up. My knee bounced, the heel of my shoe tapping against the rubber flooring of the bus while I waited nervously for his response. I knew it was bold to ask him about borrowing a car—he didn’t owe me shit. But I had to ask. I hated this fucking bus and the reliance I had on it.

“Your options with the transmission are we keep lookin’, or you choose to buy one new. Either way, that's the last thing on my list. We’re workin’ on your car between actual payin’ clients, so it’ll be awhile. You can make that decision later.” The phone went quiet again before Dave’s voice boomed in my ear. “No! Tony, that ain’t Mr. Mitchell’s car. Wait—-dammit.Sorry, kid. Lemme get back to you on borrowin’ a car. I gotta deal with these fuckheads here. Come by next week and we’ll work it out.”

The line went dead, and I clutched my phone, a shit-eating grin plastered across my face. I couldn’t believe the opportunity that’d just fallen into my lap: a higher paying job and a practical way to afford my car getting fixed. Things were finally feeling like they were falling into place. My girlfriend was amazing and gorgeous as fuck. I was about to get my degree and apply to the police academy—something I had dreamed of my entire life. And now,this.

---