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SUNDAY WAS BENT OVER THE HOOD OF a cherry red old 1967 Chevrolet parked in her dad's auto repair shop with a wrench heavy in her grip and the gloves covering her hands were stained with a mix of grease and blue paint.
She was dressed in Timberlands and navy blue work overalls while her hair, free from a wig, was slicked back into a blown out bun.
Sunday loosened a bolt with her wrench then pressed her fingers into the engine and nodded when she could properly diagnose the problem.
"What do you think?" The owner of the car, a middle aged white man, asked as he leaned against Henry's work bench next to Henry in order to watch her work.
"The timing belt is completely useless," Sunday shook her head as she stood straight up, "You're gonna need a new one. It's causing your engine to misfire and overheat."
The owner blinked and then turned to Henry, clearly surprised at Sunday being knowledgable with cars.
Sunday rolled her eyes swiftly at the slight sexism then continued, "You're looking at least three fifty to four hundred for a brand new timing belt."
The owner frowned, "Would a new engine be cheaper?"
"It's the timing belt that's the problem, sir. Not the engine." Sunday explained before turning to close the hood.
"So how much would an engine be?" The owner pressed.
Sunday looked to her father, who clapped a hand softly on the customer's back, "Come on, John. Let's look at timing belts."
The two went into the office part of the auto repair shop while Sunday slipped the wrench in her father's toolbox.
"Your phone is ringing," Noah came out of the office with Sunday's phone in his hand, "Who's BJ?"
"Mind yours." Sunday replied as she took the phone out of his hand.
Sunday gave the FaceTime call a wary glance while Noah went back inside the office.
At the last possible second, Sunday swiped the screen to answer then propped up the phone against the back of Henry's work bench.
Brandon was shirtless with a gold chain that hung around his sternum, and he was clearly in a furnished locker room.
Above his head, Sunday could spot his name engraved on top of the brown wooden locker.
"Hey, ma. Whatcha doing?" Brandon smiled.
"My dad needed my help with this engine so I'm home for the weekend." Sunday replied as she took her gloves off then wiped the tiny spots of grease and oil off of her fingers.
"Damn. I was hoping we could chill." Brandon groaned a little.
"I'm coming back tomorrow night. We can watch another movie off the list then."
"No, not chill and do something for class. Like actually hang out without it being for school." Brandon explained.
Sunday paused making Brandon sigh, "Don't overthink it. Don't panic, just say okay."
Sunday pursed her lips, "Okay. Did you turn in your reaction paper?"
"Yeah. You act like a mom." Brandon chuckled.
Sunday gave an exaggerated eye roll, "Whatever, BJ. When your gpa is over a 4.0 and you on the dean's list, you're gonna be thanking me."
"Are you talking to a boy?" Noah gasped from the doorway of the yellow painted office, "Is he your boyfriend? Who is that?"
Brandon immediately began to guffaw while Sunday looked at her little brother, "No, bubba. This is my friend, BJ from school."
Noah came down the stairs into the garage to peer curiously at Brandon, "You made friends? You're a nerd, does that mean he's a nerd too?"
"Bubba, stop. I am not a nerd." Sunday defended herself while the sound of Brandon's laughter filled the air.
"Shut up." Sunday dragged out the last word with a grin.
"Ooh, wait! Is this your boyfriend?" Noah repeated suddenly.
"Yes," Brandon cracked up, showing that he was joking.
"No-." But it was too late.
Noah was speeding up the stairs, "Pops! Pops! Sunny has a new boyfriend!"
"Oh my god," Sunday shook her head, "Why'd you do that?"
"Your little brother is funny as shit."
"He's too blunt for own good." Sunday put the FaceTime call on pause to check her twitter timeline.
"Um, why am I on pause?" Brandon immediately asks.
"I need to check something on Twitter."
"Take me off pause," Brandon replied.
"Wait a second, BJ." Sunday muttered.
"Nah, now." Brandon answered.
Sunday tucked her lips in at the raspiness of his voice then returned to the FaceTime call, "You are such a baby. Happy?"
"Yep." Brandon cheesed.
"BJ?" Sunday called.
"Yeah, ma?"
"You're annoying. I don't know if I told you this before but I'm telling you now. You're mad annoying." Sunday said as she backed up from the phone to start cleaning the workspace.
Brandon kissed his teeth, "You act like somebody's mean ass mama."
Sunday simply shrugged as she scrubbed the work bench with a sponge, "That's fine. I'm cool with that."
Brandon gave his own exaggerated eye roll, making Sunday giggle a bit as she tried to loosen the grease on the wood.
When she thought Brandon wasn't looking, she glanced at the screen, a little eager to take another peek of him.
But he was looking back, seemingly staring into her soul.
