Him & I

35

I didn't think I'd actually have to ask him about it so soon. I'd carefully avoided Tyler throughout the school week— which was quite easy since he's a senior, making most of his classes situated third floor, west wing. The same way Pamela avoided me, or we both avoided each other. Whichever. I had no courage to try talking to her a second time or even go into the cafeteria, and she made sure to miss all her English classes. The only class we share together.

The only time our eyes were forced to meet was when I really just had to eat in the cafeteria. Wednesday. I sat alone that day. The larger center table was filled with mostly guys from the baseball team, only a few of the football guys were a part of the table. Thankfully, Tyler wasn't one of them.

Pamela had been laughing, looking all bubbly, blonde and happy without me. But as soon as our eyes met, I watched her face slowly go sour. The thing that hurt the most, and still kind of hurts, is the evident sadness she had in her eyes before blinking away. The fact that I caused it.

What would've happened if I'd told her about Tyler and I a month ago?

"You work here?" A voice asks, bringing me back to reality. Bringing me back to himself, Tyler Jones. A reminder of the fact that he just pushed his matte black truck into our workshop.

"It's Martinez works, so like, if you kinda do the math—"

"Yeah, I get it. I know it's your dad's but... you work here." He utters the last part as if he's the one just making me realize that I do, in fact, work here.

The small smile his lips form has me blushing. From head to toe so I avert my eyes, as well as the conversation. "I do. This... isn't your regular car."

I begin rounding the vehicle, faking I'm giving it a minor check when in reality, with every step I take, I'm cursing why the hell Tyler had to come today. Now. Why did his truck have to stop working now. And around here. I might not be the best makeup user, as a matter of fact, any makeup brand depending on my purchase would probably dissolve within a month— but!

But at least I always try to look presentable whenever there's possibility of running into him.

Right now i'm in a mechanical jumpsuit. I just — though, happily— performed major jobs on two cars. I have sweat and engine oil all over my face and oversized outfit.

Long story short, I look anything but cute.

"You noticed."

I can hear the smirk in his voice but I ignore it. "What's wrong with the truck?"

He chokes on a cough... or a laugh. What's funny?

"Am I suppose to have that discussion with you?"

"Is that supposed to be sexist?" I ask back.

"No, I—" His eyes dart around the quiet arena like he's searching for something. Someone. Someone else besides me to cater to his truck problem.

"Tyler," I breath out, annoyed. Though I'm not exactly annoyed at his question, it's expected. I got that from the two car owners I worked with, and they were surprised I actually got the job done. I've been practicing doing tougher jobs... but I was low key surprised too. Then I got confident and told them not to come back because they wouldn't have to. Basically parroting one of the many cocky lines i've heard from other workers through the years.

The truth is I'm more annoyed with Tyler because he's seeing me in this god-forsaken outfit. He just had to come today. The truck just had to fail around here.

"I'm not in a mechanical overall with engine oils stained on parts of my body I wish it wasn't— for fun. I work here... well, volunteer. Since it's not like I'm not on the payroll or anything..." where was I? "If you don't want me to work on your truck, I could get someone else."