Chapter 10

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ELIJAH

My ears ring with the sound of my phone alarm blaring. I roll over and reach for where it's plugged in beside my bed. Today is going to be such a long day now that I'm going to be operating on just a few hours of sleep. I let my face unlock the screen. My eyes squint and then blink slowly, trying to bring into focus the apps on the screen. I rub at them in an attempt to speed the process along.

Instagram informs me I have a new follower request. My arm throbs as I lift it to use my slightly swollen finger to click on the icon. I hate this cast and of course the injury. What I don't hate is the profile picture staring back at me. Jaina Diaz. The pretty girl from last night. She found me and man am I thankful. I can't stop smiling as I accept her follow. Her account is also private, so I have to follow her back.

"Elijah! Let's go!" my dad shouts from outside my door.

"I'm up!" I answer back loud enough to be sure he heard.

I don't have time to think about this new development, we have a very important gentleman coming into the shop today. I need to get out there and help get things ready. I throw my legs over the side of the bed as I sit up. A shower will have to wait until after work, but I need to throw some water on my face and brush my teeth.

I open the door and head down the hall to the kitchen. Dad already has a pot of coffee ready, but I bet it's been sitting there for a few hours now. I can't remember a day that my dad has slept in since I was little. Even when he's sick, that man will get up and head into the shop to tinker around on something.

I pour myself a cup and focus on waking up as I hear his car fire up in the driveway. It would make more sense for us to drive together, but at least this way I have some freedom if I need to get out for a while. I move to the kitchen window so I can watch him pull out of the driveway. I take the time to lean over the sink below the glass and twist myself in the direction of Bryant's house. It's hard to see form here but not impossible. His car is still not there.

Last night his text thread was belligerent. It was s stream of consciousness I couldn't make much sense out of. His grandparents must me worried sick about him unless he's tucked himself away in a room and is drinking and using alone. Totally possible. As for as I know, he doesn't know anyone I that area so he shouldn't be out partying there.

I dump the last few sips of my coffee in the sink and shut the pot off. It should only take me a few minutes to get on the road. If my dad wouldn't be pissed all day, I'd take a little more time to check back in on Jaina. However, if I'm not to the shop in the next fifteen minutes, my dad will be slamming tools around all day to prove a point. I don't have the patients for that today so I quicky throw on some clean—but not ever truly clean—shop clothes. I own very little that isn't stained with oil or dirt. It's a product of the family business and I have stopped fighting it.

What I can do is thinking about her on the drive to work. She's a mystery I can't quite solve, but I'm going to have fun trying. When she accepts my follow request, I may have the answer to a few of my questions. Is she with anyone? What does she like? Who is this girl that has got my attention?

I'd love to tell Bryant all about her, but he's so out of it I don't think he'd even be able to follow along. If he were around I could tell him that her curiosity about cars has me hooked and that I wanted to kick myself last night for leaving without getting her number. He would probably tell me to take it easy and don't give any one girl all of my attention, but that's where he and I are different. I like to focus my attention on one thing at a time. I've always been that way—someone that explores and learns and masters what I love. Bryant likes to bounce around, his attention span being so short for everything and everyone that he's overwhelmed with all the stimulus. That translates to women as well. I prefer to talk to one at a time, he likes to stay surface level with many—never really giving any one of them his full attention.

I pull into the lot and see the long enclosed trailers taking up most of the free spaces. They are impressive as are large trucks towing them. I could spend plenty of time checking those out, but I have to play it cool. It's not unusual that we have some pretty big names in racing come in, but the kid in me still gets excited. My dad expects professionalism and that's what he'll get. I grab the shop t-shirt from my back seat and throw it on over my undershirt. I cringe a little at the wrinkles, but men in pressed shirts don't fix cars—they tell people to fix them. I'm not a pressed shirt kind of guy.



****HI! Thanks for being patient. I will now be focusing on this story and hope to have it completed soon. Please stick around and see where it goes! I hope you love it. 

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