“He gave it to you?”
He watches the road ahead as he grips the top of the wheel tightly with one hand as shifts with the other, weaving us through the quiet of the early morning streets. “For my eighteenth birthday, a year before he died.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs, his eyes still firmly on the road, but in the brightening light of the rising sun, his eyes glisten with a sheen of moisture. “Everyone dies.”
There’s an awkward silence and I look out the passenger window as we leave the fire station and the last of town behind. We wind down the hill, through a few towns that look just like Oak Crest, eventually finding the never-ending orchards of the valley.
“So…you’re good with cars, then?” I finally ask as he negotiates us onto the southbound highway ramp.
“Learned a thing or two.”
“Our car’s in the shop. They’re going to charge us six fifty for a timing chain. Does that sound right?”
He nods and flicks a glance at me. The first since we left home. “It’s a big job. The parts are cheap, but you have to pull everything apart to get to it, so sounds like they’re charging you for six hours labor.”
“Yeah. That’s what they said.”
I only realize how dejected I sounded when he glances at me again. “You want me to take a look?”
I shake my head. “I just wanted to be sure they weren’t ripping us off. We’ll figure it out.”
“Have you told Wayne to start the work yet?”
“I think he might have ordered the part.”
“I’ll have him tow it to my place.”
My eyes widen and snap to him. “I didn’t mean…I just wanted to make sure it we weren’t getting ripped off.”
“If you pay for the part, I’ll take care of the rest.”
The engine rumbles every time he presses the gas pedal, like some kind of wild thing, and it strikes me how perfect this car is for Bran. They both feel wild and a little dangerous.
He glances at me as he weaves through the loose Tuesday rush hour traffic and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How does your boyfriend feel about this trip?”
For a second, I’m totally lost.
He must see the bafflement on my face, because he clarifies. “White Mustang?”
I feel my eyes widen. “Jon.”
“Jon.” His lip curls in an acerbic smile as he repeats his name.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
His eyes cut to me. “Does he know that?”
I nod. “Definitely.”
“So, just a fuckbuddy?”
“Just a garden variety buddy. No fucking.”
He shoots me a sideways look, then takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “Good.”
“Why good?”
His lips press into a line and he shakes his head. I realize it‘s to reconsider the course of this convo when he changes the subject. “I think it’s great that you and Destiny are so tight.”
I scowl at him. “That was random.”
He flashes me a glance. “Just an observation.”
I settle deeper in the seat. “You have family other than Vicky?”
He nods. “My parents split when we were kids and Mom got the bar. Dad got the gym, which my sister Brenda runs. She and Ma live in town and Dad lives in Jonestown…so just far enough that he and Ma don’t need to see each other all the time, but close enough they can get in each other’s faces or beds—whichever mood strikes.”
I can’t stop my mouth falling open. “They sleep together?”
He shrugs. “Sometimes.”
“You don’t think they’ll get back together?”
He blows out a laugh. “No. They hate each other.”
“But they sleep together…?”
“It’s complicated.” He shoots me a glance, and in it, I see the fire he’s trying so hard to contain.
I should tell him. I opened my mouth to say it at the bar on Saturday night, but then Destiny was there, and after she was gone, the moment had passed. I even typed it into a text last night, but then decided the fact he’s been fondling a sixteen-year-old was something he deserved to hear from the horse’s mouth.
I will tell him.
Right now.
“Mind if I play some of Lo’s tracks?” I blurt, holding up my phone.
He opens the center console and pulls out a wire with a headphone jack. “It’s the original stereo,” he says with a nod at the dash, “but I rigged it.”
I plug the jack into my phone and cue my Lo playlist. She’s gotten the bonus bump on her score every week for hitting the top ten on iTunes.
I tip my head back and close my eyes as Lo’s voice fills the car and transports me back to the subway. I can hear her pure tones echoing off the tile walls around us, drowning me in awesome.
When it gets to the end and starts to repeat, I click it off.
“Don’t bite my head off, Lilah, but you’re every bit as good as she is.”
Bran’s voice is low, and when I look at him, he’s looking right back at me.
“Road,” I say, pointing out the windshield.