Captive - FourTris

Fifty-Two

AUGUST 30
THE FIRST DAY

My car won't start. This is lame.

And so not good timing, considering I drained my cell phone while talking to Christina during lunch break, and I already set the alarm at Subway. If I go back in to use the phone, the alarm company will call and I'll have to tell them why I went back inside, and then tomorrow I'll have to explain it all to my boss.

Today has not been a good day. I only work here during the summer, and for some reason everyone thinks that summer equals Subway, because I didn't stop moving for six hours and the oven was cranked so we could keep up with baking the bread, and at one point the thermostat said it was ninety-nine degrees inside.

Ugh. Now I'm sweaty and tired and I just want to go home, but no, I had to leave my lights on and now I'm sitting here, trying to figure out what to do. I don't even have jumper cables to use, if someone had a running car. So... plan B. My car is a stick shift. The parking lot is pretty flat, but maybe I can get it going enough to push- start it. I'll get it rolling, and then I'll jump into the seat, put it in gear, and pop the clutch. It's worth a shot, since I have nothing else to do. It doesn't have to roll that fast.

Hopefully.

So I jump out and lean against the door frame, but the car hardly budges. It's like there are blocks under the tires or something. I strain a moment longer, shoving with all my weight, but it doesn't roll an inch.

This is not going to work. I'm way too tired for this crap. Maybe I can get my cell to work long enough to call Tobias and she'll come get me. She won't know how to use jumper cables and neither do I, but she can give me a ride home and I can deal with this on a day when I'm not so exhausted.

"Need a hand?"

I whirl around to see a boy standing there. He's probably around my age. Maybe a couple of years older. He has perfect dark hair and a tall, muscular body. He's got on navy jeans, the front all faded, and a plain black T-shirt.

And he's cute. Really, really cute. He has a thick bottom lip and they both look so soft, so it's hard not to stare at them.

And I'm standing here like a total tool, trying to push-start my own car. Great.

"Um, yeah. I left my lights on all day and so I was going to push-start it, but I can't really get it going."

"I have jumper cables, if you want. Or I can push you."

I nod my head and then realize he didn't ask a yes or no question. "Oh, um, yeah, jumper cables are fine."

He turns and walks away from me, and for a second I think I might have scared him off and he's just leaving. But then I see he's climbing into a big white truck over by the pizza place. He fires it up and drives it next to my little grey car.

It takes me almost five minutes to figure out where the hood release is, my hand blindly swiping across everything under the steering wheel, but I manage to pull it and before I can even say or do anything he's popping it open and attaching the clamps, and we both just stand there, staring at the engines.

"Give it a second, okay?" His voice is kind of rough-edged and masculine, and I find myself liking the sound of it and wishing he had more to say.

I sit down at the curb, reveling in the fact that I'm off my feet for the first time in hours. They actually throb. I close my eyes and rest my chin on my knees, my eyes closed for just one second.

"Rough day?"

I look up at him to see him leaning against my car, his arms crossed in a way that makes them look much bigger than they did when he walked up. He's kind of built.