Page 100 of Kiss Collector
“Yes, ma’am,” I say. She puts out her hand, and I shake it.
Joel’s dad just gives me a grumbly once-over, nods at me, and heads toward the driver’s side of the truck. Joel sort of tenses up at his dad’s rudeness. His mom gives me one last smile before heading to the passenger seat.
“I guess we’re going,” he says, but doesn’t move, just stares at my eyes. “Your hair is longer. Look at these little spirals.” He touches the ends of my hair, and it makes my heart flutter. He opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but his dad hollers.
“Let’s go, boy!”
Joel grits his teeth, his mouth clamped shut.
“I’ll call you,” I say quietly.
He gives me a nod, but I can’t read him as he walks and gets in the truck. He seems... sad. I need to find out what’s going on with him. I stare as they drive away.
“It’s not you,” says Sierra from beside me, making me jump. She pushes her hair over her shoulder. “It’s his dad.”
I look at her, surprised. “What about his dad?”
“He’s an asshole.” I watch his father maneuver the truck into the line, using its girth to scare the little cars into submission out of his way. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but fuck it. Our dads used to be partners, and when Mr. Ruddick broke away, he went bankrupt. Like, totally broke. They lost everything. So Joel and his brother, Marcus, started selling pot, then meth and other shit, and giving the money to their dad. Joel was only a freshman.” My stomach plummets and I feel chilled despite the sunshine. He really had been a dealer.“He used their drug money to get them a place and start a new business. But the whole time he treated his sons like they were trash. Like he was ashamed of them. Marcus went to jail and Joel got clean and started working for him, but he still treats him like shit.”
I might be sick. I flash from cold to hot. I can’t believe I didn’t know any of this about him.
Sierra peers over and eyes me up and down. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” I stare at where the Ruddicks’ truck accelerates around the corner, out of sight. “You, too. But you always do.”
She smiles. “Okay, so which country has the hottest guys?”
I can’t bring myself to smile, but I can answer this one honestly. “It’s literally a tie. So much hotness.”
“Lucky.” She bites her lip. “See you around.”
I nod and go back to my family, but I have unfinished business. That wasnothow things were supposed to go today. I need a do-over ASAP.
At home after lunch, I do some stalking. I call Meeka for Kwami’s number. I call Kwami to find out which house is Joel’s. I only know the neighborhood.
“Your best bet is to find him at work,” he says. “He’s there more than home these days.”
Kwami tells me what time he’ll be there tomorrow, and I mentally prepare. While I’m at it, I research airlines and make a few calls. Then I play video games with Zeb for old time’s sake and can’t help but tease him about his changes.
“Oh my God, and look at your feet!” I point to them. “They’re man-size!”
“Quit being weird,” he says, still laughing.
“He’s also got a girlfriend,” Mom calls from the kitchen, where she’s prepping green-chili chicken enchiladas for tonight.
“Aw, Zebby, stop growing up!” I grab his arm and shake him.
Zeb curls inward and covers his head to ward off the embarrassment.
It’s good to be home.
I pull up in front of Ruddick’s Auto at nine the next morning, armed with a piece of paper in my pocket that I’ve had since Paris. Today, if Joel’s receptive, I’ll give it to him.
I’m light-headed with nerves as I approach the doorway. I clasp my fingers and let them go, smoothing my shirt. With a heavy inhale and exhale, I pull open the door and cringe when it dings. My eyes go straight to the counter, where Joel stands in his navy-blue button-down shirt. He’s wearing his matching hat the proper way, instead of backward, and it makes me almost laugh.
Joel looks up from where he’s having a man sign something, and his eyes go comically wide. He checks himself super quick and focuses on the customer. I look around at the small room that smells like rubber and oil. There’s a seating area with two old love seats and a dingy coffee maker. In the middle of the room is a display of tires. Along the walls are car accessories.
“Have a good day, sir,” he says. The guy walks out, and it’s just us. I approach with caution, and he looks toward thedoor that leads to the mechanic area. Joel pales when that door bursts open and Mr. Ruddick comes in, wiping his hands on a rag. He stops and looks back and forth between Joel and me. My heart drops.
