With my pulse racing, I cursed under my breath. “What are you doing back here?”
“Jesus.” She put a hand over her heart. “Do you always leap out from between the buildings?”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “Thought you were…” A drug dealer still looking for his stash. “A vandal.”
Sophie crossed her arms, looking guilty.
“What are you doing?”
“Just looking,” she said quickly. “At the car.”
“God, why? I’ve been trying to get that thing out of here so you wouldn’t have to look at it.” Shit. The last time we spoke it had not been a good conversation. And now I was practically yelling at her. “Do you want to come inside?”
She gave the car a sideways glance and then smoothed the tarp down on its crumpled front. “Sure.” She followed me into the garage. “Happy Christmas Eve Eve,” she said with a little smile.
It was true—I had almost survived the holiday season. “Back atcha, babe.”
“You’re not going to get rid of the car right away, are you?”
“Uh…” I didn’t understand why she’d care. “It’s taking me a while. I’ve been selling some parts on eBay. There will be some money coming your way from it.”
“Money?”
“Sure. Maybe two thousand bucks if we’re lucky. Could be less, though. Depends on how much I can salvage. You can put it in your music school fund.”
“I don’t have a music school fund.”
“You should.”
Sophie sighed. “You’re getting me off topic.”
“What is the topic?”
“You don’t mind if I look at the car, right? I have questions. There’s something I don’t understand about what happened that night.”
Fuck. “I don’t see what good could come of thinking about it.” There were too many people in my life asking all the wrong questions. Some shit should just stay buried.
“Jude.” She crossed her arms and cocked a hip against the grungy counter.
“What?”
“Have you been honest with me?”
I snorted. “No, Sophie. When we were together, I got high behind your back every damn day. That’s pretty dishonest, don’t you think?”
“That is not what I mean, and you know it! When I asked you about where you and Gavin were going together, you told me you didn’t remember. But there must be something that stands out. Gavin was a complete shit to you every chance he got. Why would he ask you for a ride when there was a whole house full of frat boys to do it?”
Oh, Jesus. “You know what?” I pointed at the dismembered Prius. “I’m in the middle of a job. It’s not a good time.”
“Will it ever be a good time? Because I feel like you’re ducking me. That makes you just another person in my life who won’t tell me the truth. You’re supposed to be the one who does, Jude. You.”
Now my hands were sweating, and I felt a familiar itch in my limbs. “Sophie, I’ll see you at the church tonight, okay? Let me get through this.” I meant the drug craving that was suddenly making my T-shirt stick to my back and not the custom paint job on the table behind me. Hopefully she couldn’t tell.
She peered up at me, and I saw judgment in her eyes. I’m sure I deserved it, too. “Okay. Later.” She sighed.
“Later,” I echoed. But then I couldn’t resist closing the distance between us and kissing her forehead. With a sigh, she put a hand to my shoulder and squeezed. I never wanted any trouble between us. But life was just so fucking complicated.
Shit.
She left, and I paced the garage for a couple of minutes, feeling twitchy. I went over to a chin-up bar I’d installed when I was fourteen and banged out a quick set of ten. A little muscle fatigue was just what I needed to soothe the tension knotting my insides.
I bent over for a hamstring stretch and counted slowly to ten. In my mind, I pictured the warming hut at the top of Mount Mansfield, where I used to like to snowboard. Back in tenth grade, the top of that ski hill was my favorite place. Nothing bad ever happened up there, and you could see all the way to New York on one side and New Hampshire on the other.
Deep breaths, I ordered myself. This too shall pass.
At rehab, they’d taught us some meditation techniques. I was pretty shitty at meditating, but one thing the psychologist said had stuck with me. “The goal of meditation is not to make you all into superhumans. The goal is to remind your brain that focus is a choice. That a place of calm is always waiting for you if you seek it.”
I hoped she was right.
After putting in a half-hour more work, I began cleaning up. I shut off the work lamp over my table and swept sanding dust off the Prius’s panel.
The cravings were still going strong. Maybe that’s why I sensed the intruders before I saw them.
The bulk of someone’s form cast a shadow in the window light. Then it disappeared again.