Page 83 of Space Junk: Houston, We Have a Hottie
He lowers his free arm while I pivot away from the table. To keep his finger from breaking he has to drop to his knees.
“You’ll break my fucking finger. I’m a baseball player, you bitch. I need my fingers to play. I’ll fucking sue.” Now that the shock has worn off, his face is red and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead.
And people think math is for weaklings. With just a few calculations, a lowly nerd like myself has brought a Neanderthal to his knees.
“And I need you to. Stop. Talking.” I step toward him, his head jerking back to look at me. “You are never to talk to me again.Youwere lucky I ever decided to talk toyou.Youare not good enough forme. Understand?” I utilize an infinitesimal extra amount of force on his finger, which results in a satisfactory whimper from Brian. “I do not care about making money on appearances with you. I do not care about being part of society’s elite or maximizing your social media exposure. And I sure as crap do not care about you or your baseball fingers. You sue me and everyone will know you got your butt handed to you by a girl. And not just any girl, a nerd.” I let his finger go and step back out of reach. “And now this nerd has better stuff to do and more important people to talk to.”
People clap as I spin on my heel and make for the door before Brian can recover. When I cross the threshold, the heat slams into me. I take a moment to let my lungs adjust before stomping in the humidity toward my apartment.
Twenty-Three
Stall
Flynn
“What thehellare you doing here?”
I look up from under the hood of a 1975 Barracuda to see Rose barreling through the garage.
I’ve been at the shop since the crack of dawn this morning after another sleepless night. When the rest of my crew arrived, one look at my face was enough for them to give me a wide berth. They’ve learned that lesson the hard way the past couple of days. Apparently, though, my anger doesn’t faze Rose.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I tell her.
“Hear what?” She makes it to my side, hands on hips, cowboy boot tapping.
“Whatever it is that you’re going to say.” I lean back over the motor. The guy who dropped the ‘cuda off yesterday said it needed a new carburetor. But after checking the spark plugs, I’d reassessed. Often an electrical problem will appear similar to a fuel problem. That’s something I like about fixing cars—identify the problem, fix it and move on. It’s one of the things I love about Jackie. We both analyze and fix shit.
My hand tightens on the wrench.
“You’re supposed to be lying in bed with Jackie right now, doing unspeakably dirty things to her while apologizing for being such a dick. And that’safteryou beat the shit out of her douchebag ex-boyfriend.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Rose pivots on her foot and leans under the hood, getting into my face.
“What the hell are you talking about, Rose?” I hunch forward, bracing my arm on the fender. “Jackie’s the one who hasn’t called me. She knows where I stand. The ball’s in her court.”
“You. Are. A. Moron.” Rose punctuates each word with a stab in my sternum. “I let you spew that shit about Jackie choosing a dangerous job over you ‘cause I just thought you needed to hear how much of a selfish prick you were being. Or maybe you needed some time to get your head out of your ass. Obviously, you’re not as smart as I’d given you credit for.”
I find myself twisting my lips, holding back angry retorts, because I know Rose is right. But she still doesn’t get it. She’d been too young to remember when Gramps broke his neck riding that stallion, and then away at boarding school when Holt took the call about Mom and Dad’s car crash. But I was old enough to feel the pain of all those losses. I’ve been falling in love with Jackie since the first time she slid those glasses up her nose in front of me. And I can’t take losing anyone else I love.
Rose crosses her arms over her chest, looking at me hunched under the hood. “So you’re saying you don’t care that her ex got physical with her and pushed her around in public?”
The clink and clang of my wrench pinballing down through the motor echoes through the otherwise quiet garage. I straighten and turn toward my sister. “What. The. Fuck?”
My anger might not usually faze her, but whatever I’m putting out there now sure freaks Rose out. She takes a step back. But it still doesn’t stop her snarky attitude. “Some NASA fan was taking a video of Jackie when it happened. She caught the whole thing. She posted it and tagged NASA’s twitter account. Viral in an instant.” Rose snaps her fingers. “Lucky for you, Jackie seems well versed in self-defense.” Rose looks down her nose at me, which is impressive as I’m nearly a foot taller than her.
“Jesus, Rose... I...” I run my hand through my hair. “Self-defense? Is she okay? Did someone call the cops? Maybe I should—”
“No, jackass. The time to act has well fucking passed. I told you she wasn’t going to wait around forever for your apology.”
“I—”
“I mean, she thinks you’re a fucking mechanic, Flynn. For God’s sake, she doesn’t even know what being a Westmeans. And yet the girl still loves you.” She sneers at me. “And yet you, the person she came to first with the news that she was one step away from her dream job, wants her to turn it down.” She taps her finger on her chin. “Wow, does this seem like déjà vu to anyone else? Like when a little privileged douche bag gave up the oil business to open his own mechanic shop because it washisdream? And what did his girlfriend at the time do? Gave him an ultimatum, if I remember correctly. Isn’t that right, Flynn?”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
She blows out a slow breath, her eyes shiny. “You might care about her, but you sure as shit don’t deserve her.”
