My Summer of Firsts

Chapter 4 - Hot in Here

I woke up the next morning in a sweltering heat, drenched in sweat from head to toe. It saturated my clothes and the sheets, even my pillow was damp. I pushed my sweaty hair back off my forehead and climbed out of bed. My tiny room felt like an oven.

I opened my door, hoping for some relief, but the rest of the trailer was just as hot.

I trudged down the short hall to the living room. My mother sat in one of our dining chairs next to the open front door, fanning herself with a piece of junk mail. She tugged on the collar of her shirt to create an inconsequential draft.

"Why is it so hot in here?" I asked.

She looked up and blinked a few times, as if I'd broken her out of a daydream. She let out a heavy sigh. "Those damn Hoffman kids crashed their dirt bike into the power converter at the end of the road."

"The power is out?" I looked around, finally noticing that none of the lights were on. Not even the digital clock on the stove that perpetually read 12:00. "How long before it's back?"

"I'm sure the power company will get right on it." She sounded more than a little sarcastic.

I understood her meaning. The trailer park at the edge of town was hardly a priority for anyone. Until it came time to locate a suspect for some local crime. Like the graffiti that kept popping up on the sidewalks downtown when I was a freshman in high school. Although that ended up being the mayor's son, pissed off because he got community service for throwing an unauthorized party on the roof of city hall. Anyone else who broke into a government building after hours and provided alcohol for half the high school would have been sent to juvie.

"Shit!" I clasped my hands on top of my head, reminding me of how sweaty I was. "I have to shower for work."

"The water is still working, hon. But it ain't gonna be hot." She laughed bitterly. "But, hey, at least you might get cooled off."

I groaned and stomped back to my room to collect some clothes. Cold or not, I had to take a shower. I couldn't go into work all sweaty and gross. Especially not with Elian making daily drop-ins.

In the bathroom, I used my phone's flashlight in order to see in the pitch black room. The blue-white glow threw shadows across my face. I skipped shaving, since I didn't want to knick myself, or miss a patch of hair in the dark.

After brushing my teeth, I turned to the shower. Reluctantly, I twisted the tap. I didn't bother with the hot, since it wouldn't affect the temperature. Taking a few deep breaths, I psyched myself up before jumping under the stream of frigid water. I screeched out a curse.

By the time I got out, I was shivering all over, my teeth chattering. I hurriedly dressed and rushed out the front door, past my mom. I still had four hours before my shift, but I didn't want to hang around and get sweaty again.

Thankfully, my beat up, hunk of junk Jeep had air conditioning to give me a reprieve from the heat. When I checked the rearview mirror, I noticed my sloppy hair. I thought about what Elian said the other day.

Using my fingers in place of a comb, I arranged my hair into something more styled. It didn't look half as good as when he did it. So far, he hadn't mentioned that I'd taken to combing it this way since he suggested it. But maybe he would eventually notice and appreciate the effort one of these days.

Since I had nothing better to do, I drove into town. I thought I'd wander around for a while. Maybe grab breakfast from the cafe across from the pharmacy.

Down the street, Elian walked directly toward me. Sunglasses concealed his eyes, so I couldn't tell if he'd seen me, too. He wore a pale blue tank top that looked great against his golden brown skin. It had a much looser fit than most of the other shirts I'd seen him in, but that didn't detract from his amazing arms.