Page 17 of Wasted On Us

My sedan might have chosen the worst possible time to play dead, but in the end, I wasn’t left alone. I had Frostvale’s finest young men come to my rescue. Not every girl can say that, so a bit of hope blossoms inside my chest.

As soon as I get over the initial adrenaline of not being trapped in the intersection anymore, the reality sets in. I’m still going to be late for my appointment, and I have to figure out what to do about this car.

Even as I panic over being late, I can’t help but wonder. Was my dad right for getting so mad at Mateo’s father all those years ago about that car Salvador sold him? Apparently, this is just how they do business over there. Even so, I know if I call Dad right now to ask for help, this is still going to somehow be my fault. For losing my job, for not leaving early enough, for hitting someone else, or for trusting Mateo at all.

My host family in Italy was such a refreshing change. Their father would’ve picked me up, taken me to my appointment, and then driven to the dealership himself to give Salvador and Mateo a talking to for putting my safety in jeopardy. I felt like such a part of the family, rather than the overlooked afterthought that I feel like here. I get more Christmas cards from them than I get from my own family. Sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t born on the wrong continent to the wrong people. Or if an Italian couple on vacation accidentally swapped babies with my parents at the hospital. Maybe somewhere in Venice, there’s a girl who craves American reality shows, hot wings, and beer and wishes her parents paid less attention to her. I’d trade lives with her in a heartbeat.

Reluctantly, I take the business card from my wallet and dial Mateo’s number. No matter how I feel about him right now, the vehicle still belongs to his dealership, and even though he was doing me a favor by loaning me this car and fixing mine, he should still at least come pick me up. To his credit, he answers on the second ring and is genuinely dismayed to hear that the car failed so spectacularly.

“Look, I’m running late for a very important appointment. I need to get this thing towed, and there’s no way I can afford to front the money. One of your guys is going to have to come get it, and fast.” I try to keep the hysteria in my voice to a minimum, opting instead for the tone my mom uses when she’s on the phone with a customer service representative. “I’m going to have to Uber out of here any minute now.”

“No no no, you don’t have to do that,” Mateo insists. “You’re near First and Pine Avenue, right? That’s less than five minutes up the street. I can be there before any Uber, and I’ll have the tow truck follow me out.”

“That’s really not necessary—” I try to protest, but he cuts me off.

“Please. It’s the least I can do. I’m already on my way.”

The call ends before I can say anything else, and even though I don’t want to admit it, I’m thankful for the offer. Just taking an Uber screws up a whole day of my remaining food budget. I couldn’t even really afford the twenty I offered to the team. True to his word, Mateo glides to the curb in four and a half minutes, and I climb in the passenger seat of his BMW.

As we pull away, Mateo glances at me, his brows furrowed with concern. “I’m really sorry about the loaner breaking down, Eden. That shouldn’t have happened. I’ll get you another one right away.”

I can’t help but feel a tad annoyed, even though I know it’s not his fault. At least the devastated expression he’s wearing right now says it’s not. “Well, I appreciate that, but you know, I really can’t afford any delays right now. I’m trying to get a job at the temp agency, and I can’t be late.”

He nods, his expression earnest. “I get it, and I’m doing everything I can to make this right. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

I sigh, my frustration ebbing as I recognize his sincere efforts. “I know you are, and I’m thankful. Let’s just hope the rest of the day goes more smoothly, and I’m gainfully employed before the end of it.”

He reaches over, giving my hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. “It will. I promise.”

His smile is warm, and I can’t help but return it, despite the stress of the situation. The rest of the ride is filled with lighter conversation, both of us trying to move past the morning’s unexpected hiccup. With his expert driving skills, Mateo gets me to my appointment with enough time for me to check my hair in the mirror and make sure I don’t have anything in my teeth.

I give him a brief thank you before dashing off inside the temp agency, and the receptionist calls my name before I even have a chance to sit down. The agent’s office is slightly less miserable than the waiting room, but not by much. Everything is still in shades of gray and beige, but there’s a single potted succulent on her desk, and her coffee mug is a vibrant shade of orange. Seeing at least some color gives me hope that my meeting won’t be totally miserable.

“So,” the agent starts, flipping through the paperwork I completed yesterday. “These are your skills?”

“Yes.” I nod as politely as possible. “I’ve been in customer service for years. I’m actually good at what I do.”

The agent frowns slightly at this as if she didn’t need this much supplementary commentary on my end. She starts to open her mouth to speak but is interrupted by the phone on her desk. In a moment of inspiration, I lunge out of my chair and grab for it before she does. Time to show her the good old Eden charm.

“Good afternoon,” I greet the caller with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. “This is the Right Hire Right Now Temp Agency, Eden speaking. How may I direct your call?”

“I—I’m sorry, I just spoke to the front desk,” the voice crackles from the other end of the line. “They said they were transferring me to Eileen. Did they not do that? Can you please just put me through? I need to talk to Eileen.”

I look from the phone in my hand to the agent, and it occurs to me that this is her phone. Any calls that come through would befor herspecifically. Eileen grits her teeth and folds her slender hands atop the desk—hands that I think are doing a marvelous job of not throttling me right now.

“One moment, please. I’ll see if she’s available.” Making the most apologetic face that I can, I pass the phone over to Eileen, then sit back down. The conversation is short, something about sending a form to their payroll office, and then she turns her gaze back to me, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to be a challenge?” Eileen’s prune-like expression chastises me over the rims of her glasses.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure my parents feel the same way.” Already convinced that I’ve blown the interview with my stupid phone trick, I start to gather my things and stand from my chair.

“Where are you going?” Eileen stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, or that I’ve just told her I’m leaving for Mars.

“I assumed that—”

“Please. While that wasn’t the smartest move I’ve ever seen, it certainly wasn’t the dumbest. At least you’re showing initiative, which is more than I can see for ninety percent of the people that cycle through here. In fact, I never back down from a challenge. If anything, it makes me even more determined to see you succeed.”

I open my mouth, then close it again, unsure what to say. I settle for awkwardly sitting back down and crossing my legs.

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