SEVEN
Seven was useless at work.
Completely, utterly useless.
She clocked in with five minutes to spare, hair tied back, coveralls half-zipped, boots laced. She looked normal enough. But her body moved loose, slow, like her bones hadn't fully reassembled overnight.
And she still smelled faintly of Sloane's perfume no matter how hard she tried to scrub it off.
Tavi noticed immediately.
Tavi leaned against the hood of a half-gutted Charger, arms crossed, gum popping loud. "Why you walking like that?"
Seven blinked. "Walking like what?"
Tavi narrowed her eyes playfully. "Like you got... enlightened."
Dre rolled out from under a pickup truck on a creeper, wiping grease from his cheek. "Nah, that's the walk of someone who got spiritually, emotionally, physically—"
"Stop," Seven snapped, grabbing a wrench like it could protect her from harassment.
"That's a yes," Tavi said, grinning. "So? That stud from the club?"
Seven's fingers froze on the toolbox handle.
Tavi gasped. "Oh my god. Ya'll fucked."
Seven exhaled through her nose. "I'm not talking about this with ya'll."
"That's basically a confession," Dre said.
Seven turned her back on them fully, tugging the hood release on the next car. "Can we not today?"
"No," Tavi said immediately.
Dre smirked. "She was fine though. I don't blame you."
Seven swallowed, cheeks burning.
If only they knew.
The whole shift was a mess.
Seven dropped a ratchet.
Twice.
She tried to install a serpentine belt and put it on backwards.
Dre stared at her in horror.
"Seven. You been working here four years. That's muscle memory."
Seven muttered, "Shut up. I'm just tired," and tried again.
Tavi crouched beside her, studying her face.
"You're dazed," Tavi whispered. "Not tired. Dazed."
Seven rubbed her forehead. "Can y'all leave me alone?"
"Not when you're fumbling the cars in our shop."
Seven nearly flung the belt at her.
Then her phone buzzed.
And Seven froze.
Absolutely froze.
Tavi's eyes widened.
"Oh. That her?"
Seven didn't answer.
She pulled out her phone with trembling fingers.
A message lit the screen:
Miss:
Drink water. Now. Send proof.
Seven's breath hitched so hard Dre sat up straight under the truck.
She grabbed the nearest water bottle from her station and chugged it like she'd been stranded in the desert.
Snapped a photo.
Sent it.
Then she braced both hands on the workbench, head bowed as heat crawled up her neck.
Tavi blinked.
"...Girl."
Dre crossed his arms slowly.
"Oh yeah. This one's serious."
Seven closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing.
"You have no idea."
