“Of course he did.” My tone was tighter than I wanted it to.

Luke was a semi-professional racer—who also raced illegally for fun every now and then. He trained with Ethan’s uncle, John, who had been a great racer when he was younger. As expected, Luke was doing great. I could have been great too, and even though it wasn’t Luke’s fault I couldn’t race anymore, jealousy over his success always hit me like a bitch.

Jason pointed to his bike. “So, what’s the verdict?”

The body was smashed, the left mirror was hanging loose, and the front headlight was broken. “If I can get the parts in by next Wednesday, I would need maybe one more week to fix it.”

“Dude, I came to you because I thought you would be faster.” Jason stood up and straightened his not-so-favorite leather jacket. “I can fix it on my own if it’s going to take that long.”

I stood beside him and readjusted my leather gloves. “Sorry, J-man, but I have work five or six days per week, and then curfew on weekdays. I can’t spend a lot of time on it.”

“My summer classes start next week, so I won’t have a lot of time either.” He tsked. “That’s okay. I wanted to race next weekend, make some money, but that’s okay. There will be other races.”

I nodded. There would be. For him, Luke, Ethan, and the entire town. Not for me though.

I reached over to the small fridge under the counter, grabbed two cans of Coke, and tossed one to Jason. It would have looked better if two big guys standing around bikes in a garage were drinking beer, but I tried to avoid alcohol as much as I could.

“Thanks,” he said, opening his can.

I took a good look at him. Ruffled blond hair, dark circles under his eyes, and crumpled clothes. “Did you just get into town from the bike event?”

“Yup. If I go home with that messed up bike, my mother might have a heart attack.”

“But there’s nothing I can do for it now, other than start taking it apart.”

“I know. I’ll drive home though, and then I’ll bring it back later. I’ll have Luke come with me to give me a ride.”

“Sounds good.”

He took a sip of his Coke. “So. How are you?”

I took a big swallow of my drink. The cold liquid ran down my throat, giving me energy and time to think of a good answer. I knew where Jason was going with this. “The same as always.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

I shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“Even with my sister back?”

I gritted my teeth. “So what, she’s back.”

“Have you already seen her?”

I nodded. “Yup. I was driving and she was running. The first time, I almost drove on the sidewalk.”

He lifted both eyebrows. “And that is being okay?”

“What? I was shocked. It was the first time I saw her in four years.” And she was even more beautiful than I remembered. How wouldn’t that mess with a guy’s head? “I don’t think she saw me though.”

“So you’re okay with her being here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I drank the rest of my Coke and threw the can in the trash. If only I could do that with my feelings. “She’s free to do whatever she wants. Hopefully, we won’t run into each other too much.”

“This town isn’t that big,” Jason said, his voice low.

Didn’t I know that? She had been here for five days, and I had already run into her. How many more times would I suffer until the summer was over?

I opened one of my toolboxes, eager to find something else to busy my mind. “Catch.” I threw a wrench at Jason. He closed his free hand around it before it hit him in the chest. “We can’t work on your bike yet, but we can work on mine.”

***

Jessica

I punched the dough. It could have my frustration; it wouldn’t complain.

But Mama would. “The poor dough isn’t guilty, whatever the crime.”

I stepped away from the table before I got mad, and after destroying the bread’s dough instead of softening it, started breaking the plates and cups.

This morning, I had gone running with Luna again. It was good for my body and my mind. It was great to clear my thoughts. However, this time, the technique didn’t work. Even while running, my mind turned to him.

Despite my will, I wondered where he was, what he was doing. On a Saturday morning? He was probably crawling out of some girl’s bed, racing to his car and driving away as fast as he could.

I wondered if he still had the Mustang. If that car could talk.

I often lied that I was going to Rachel’s or Sophie’s or Faith’s house, but instead, Ryan took me for a ride. A ride that usually ended with his car parked in the middle of nowhere and us getting heavy in the backseat. In the brief time we were together, he never pressured me about sex, though he made it clear that whenever I was ready, he was too.

Now I wondered how many girls he had taken for secret rides. How many of those had let him go all the way on that same backseat?

I shuddered.

“Hon?” Mama called me, bringing me back to the present.

I washed my hands under the faucet, scrubbing the flour from my fingers, as if the memories could go down the drain with it.

“Don’t get me wrong,” I started, drying my hands on the kitchen towel. “If I’m gonna stay here until the end of summer, I need something else to do. Something I like to do.”

All we had done for the last five days was cook, bake, and visit my unconscious father at the hospital. When Mama invited me to go to the grocery store, I declined, afraid of running into the townspeople and reliving what I had tried so hard to forget. Rachel and Sophie had come for dinner on Thursday night, but we barely spoke. I knew they wanted to talk about the past and how it affected me now, but I wasn’t ready. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be.

Mama didn’t look up from the bowl she was working on. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere I can work with the things I’m good at. Drawing, calculating, maybe even drafting architectural plans.”

“Sorry, honey, can’t help you with that.”

She might not be able to help me, but I had to find someone who could. I left the dough for Mama to finish and started chopping the vegetables for today’s salad while thinking about who I knew that could point me in the right direction. If they hadn’t switched jobs in four years, Sophie’s parents worked at city hall, Rachel’s mother was a nurse, and her father was an accountant.

“Anyone home?” Aunt Cadence’s voice came from the family room, interrupting my thoughts.

“In here,” Mama called. She had already worked the dough, and now stirred a white sauce for whatever she was cooking for lunch.

Aunt Candace entered the kitchen carrying a couple of grocery bags. “I should have guessed you would be here.” She put the bags on the kitchen table. “Everything okay in here?”

“Yes, but you can get started on the cake.” Mama pointed to the ingredients already stacked in a corner of the counter.

“Good morning.” Uncle Turner entered the kitchen with more bags in his hands. “Jessica, I’m so glad to see you.” He left the bags on the table with the others and approached me with open arms.

I dropped the knife and hugged him. “Hello, Uncle T.”

He pulled back and looked at me. “Oh my, what a wonderful young woman you’re turning out to be. Just like all the women in this family.” He winked at his wife and she chuckled.

It was a pity I couldn’t say he looked good too. Like Aunt Cadence, he had gained some weight and his mustache was fuller, longer, but his hairline had receded half an inch at least.

Aunt Cadence shook her head. “Quite the charmer.”

“As always.” I picked up the knife to keep chopping. “What are the bags for?”

“Well,” Aunt Cadence said, “since we’re always eating here and having your mother bake cakes and cookies and even full meals for us, I bring the ingredients every now and then.”