𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃─𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

thirty nine.

─☼☼☼─

𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙃𝘼𝘿 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙏 upon them by the time they finally made it to a mechanic. The tow truck had taken almost two hours to get to them, probably because it was the only one within a fifty mile radius. 

In that time, JJ and Charlotte had played so many games of hot hands that she was sure there was some sort of permanent damage.

Even now, hours later as she picked up a keychain from one of the hooks, Charlotte winced at the pain in her hands. 

"I told you two to stop playing that." Pope chided as he watched her pained movements. "You probably bruised your hands."

Charlotte smiled, amused by his parent-like instincts...usually it was her who was mothering the rest of the group. 

"Come on, Pope. It's called making the best of a shitty situation. Sorry JJ and I didn't run off and do whatever the hell you and my sister were doing."

Thirty minutes into their stranded waiting game, Kie and Pope had disappeared into the tree-line, and Charlotte didn't even want to begin to guess what they were doing. 

Pope ducked his head slightly in embarrassment. "We weren't doing anything." He assured meekly. "We're never doing anything." The latter part of his sentence was muttered and full of what sounded like resentment. 

She didn't really want to pry, but Charlotte also didn't want to brush off whatever was bothering him. "Don't take it personally." She suggested with a small shrug. 

"What do you mean?" He wondered, looking over at her with curiosity. 

Charlotte's eyes strayed toward the outside of the shop where Kie and JJ were arguing about something by the truck. "You know how Kie is. She's a free-spirit...wild child, if you will. She cares about you, Pope. She's just not sure how to show it."

He swallowed a lump in his throat, following the older girl's gaze. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

"Okay." The garage-owner interrupted, slapping a piece of paper down on the desk between them. "There you go."

Pope grabbed the paper, looking down at the numbers that were scribbled on it. Charlotte did the same, her eyes circling the total that was underlined at the bottom of the invoice. 

"Are you serious?" Pope balked, his grip tightening on the paper. "Three seventy?"

"Well, yeah, man. That thing was close to death when it rolled in here. I did what I could." The mechanic responded, his country twang strong as he chewed on a toothpick. 

Reaching into her wallet, Charlotte pulled out her credit card. "Pope, it's okay. The truck needed fixing, there's nothing we can do about it now."

A frustrated sigh fell from his lips as he shook his head. "Charley, I can't let you pay for it. Won't your parents be pissed?"

"It's my own money." Charlotte shrugged, handing her card to the mechanic with a forced smile. "I'm an adult...I can spend my money on whatever I want. And besides," She sighed as she watched the man run her card, "We're already a day late...what's one more thing?"