great
Ethan:
Did you know Brody’s in Spain now? He’s staying for three months
Me:
Yeah, he called my old man a week ago
Ethan:
He makes more money than either of our dads, yet they still think of him as their rebellious kid brother
Me:
He’s only 10 years older than you. And before Brooklyn, you gave him a run for his money in the rebellion department
Ethan:
I did, and you’re failing me. You should be the one taking up the mantle now
Me:
Maybe one day
Ethan:
Or maybe you’re skipping that part and going straight into family mode
Me:
My break is over, and so is this conversation. Next time you talk like that, I’ll block you
Ethan:
How very mature of you
Me:
With a laugh, I lock my phone and slip it into my pocket. No matter how many times I wash my hands, the scent of motor oil lingers, and there are always smudges of grease under my fingernails.
I lean back on my elbows and survey Will, one of the oldest mechanics in Dad’s shop, as he works on a dark green, 1970 Chevy Impala.
Miles offered to help him, but he said he had it all under control. That’s no surprise. He’s always preferred to work alone.
“What did your cousin want?” Miles asks, smoke pouring from his nostrils.
“He’s sending a new client our way, the new goalie for the California Thunders.”
He turns to me, eyes bulging. Coughing, he exhales smoke into my face. “An NHL player?”
“Yeah.” I cough too, pushing him away. “He used to play for Chicago. Hung out at Ethan’s bar a lot, so they became friends. Sounds like he wants to bring his G-Wagon for a tune-up.”
“That’s awesome! A connection like that could be a step in the right direction for the custom shop.”
“Yeah.” I nod, though I don’t feel nearly as excited as he sounds.
It’s hard to feel excited since my high school coach called a few days ago. He asked if I’d be interested in an assistant coach position. It’s unpaid for now, but he said if it works out, he could eventually get the school board to approve a small salary.