My Favorite Stranger

7

Fuck!

She didn't understand why it was plaguing her in the first place. It was her choice and she had to own that.

I have to talk to her.

Mya finished with her shower 30 minutes later, trying to put together another casual outfit. She decided to go see Jessie at the shop, which probably wasn't a good idea since the girl would most likely be busy, but she couldn't wait.

She ended up putting on a white shirt and her second pair of black jeans and stilettos again. She tied her hair up in a messy ponytail, strands of hair falling to the side of her face. She grabbed her purse and was out the door.

As she drove all the way to the shop, her mind grew louder. It didn't help that she was running on an empty stomach and no coffee.

She pulled around the way the tow truck went two nights ago, parking on the sidelines with the rest of the cars lined up along the curb.

Mya looked over to see workers in the garages. She didn't spot Jessie, but she did see Marty. The shop was a concoction of noise. She sighed heavily, trying to prepare herself to see Jessie.

She turned the car off, slinging her purse over her shoulder and shutting the door. Most workers didn't spare a passing glance, not paying mind to the woman who was currently walking inside the garage — where any paying customer shouldn't be.

Marty spotted Mya, shouting from another lift a short distance away.

"Mya! Hey! How ya' doin'? Something wrong with the car?"

"Oh, um, hey Marty. The car is great, thank you. I was just looking for Jessie. Is she here?" Mya said eyeing the area around her for the woman.

Marty approached her, wiping his grime stained hands on his shirt. "Oh, she's back there on the phone. Around the large tool shelf there. It's a small room. She, er, doesn't really want to be bothered right now, but, I'm sure she won't mind if it's you."

"Oh ..." Mya replied. "Is she okay?"

Marty sighed, and he didn't look a single bit confident about his answer. "Er, I suppose. As okay as she can be — you know, family matters and whatnot."

"Right," Mya said, now curious about what was going on. "I'll be on my way to the back then."

"No problem. Er, make sure you knock first."

"Of course," Mya replied. Marty gave her one last nod and walked off, leaving Mya alone to handle her business.

Mya walked to the back and around the large metal tool shelf. She could see the actual front desk of the store down the rest of the way. It was strange being so far into the shop when she didn't work there. She felt like she was invading personal space even though no one complained or even seemed to care.

Mya spotted the room, approaching the wooden door and knocking on it softly. She couldn't hear anything behind it.

"I said to give me a minute!"

"Um — it's me. It's Mya ... I'm sorry I—"

A shirtless and aggravated Jessie quickly opened the door.

She had on a black sports bra, her torso glistening with what looked to be drying sweat and her hair was up in a short ponytail. Her shoulders were tense and the harsh grip she had on her cellphone proved Marty's warning correct. The baggy grey jeans she had on were dirty, to say the least, and her steel toe boots were tightly tied.