The Boiling Point | ✔️

39 | timing

ASHTON

Is there such a thing as a Thanksgiving miracle? Sure, it's still a week away, but Christmas miracles are too far down the line, so I'm giving credit to Thanksgiving for this one.

"What do you mean he's gone?"

"I mean he's gone, Ashton. Poof. Took off. Gone," Cruz says with a shrug as he digs through a toolbox. "Travis is running shit now, that's all I know."

I cross over the garage to look for Travis. Even with my dad overworking me, these last handful of weeks have been an improvement. Summer and I have settled into a good balance, keeping a sharp competitive edge in the kitchen, and somehow making the whole friendship thing work at the same time. Charlie hasn't been so hung up about us not hooking up anymore, and getting back to how we used to be has almost been a relief. I'm not on the constant brink of sleep deprivation anymore. And my grades are at an all-time high.

So this news, the possibility of my dad not being in the picture, it's got me downright spinning out for the confirmation.

"Travis." I find him circling a black Hyundai, making notes on a clipboard. "Is my dad really gone or is Cruz just in the mood for pissing me off?"

A low laugh rumbles in his throat. "Nah, he's gone."

"Where?"

"Thought you'd tell me." He rubs at a dent on the fender, making another note. "Said some stuff needed to blow over, left me in charge and got outta here. Julian came by looking for him, too. So, that's probably what's blowing over, you know?"

He gives me a look, one that says everything he won't say out loud about his boss. Your greedy deadbeat of a father screwed over the wrong person and now he's getting out of hot water.

It seems too good to be true, but my dad has done this twice before. I was eleven the first time. He booked it out of town for two weeks and left me alone. A little kid's dream, really. By the fifth day, I ran out of food and took to hanging around restaurant dumpsters waiting for them to throw out the leftovers. Still better than living with him.

The second time was when I was fifteen. He bailed for a month. Didn't tell me, no calls or texts or a note. Nothing. It was still a dream, even more at that age. Free run of the town, earning some money through odd jobs, staying out every night. Plus, Nick was clued in by then and insisted on giving me extra food from home, even doing my laundry in the middle of the night so his mom didn't find out.

It's clear my dad has been on tenterhooks lately, and I guess there was that fight I heard him and Julian having here a while ago, but I never thought he'd skip town. No matter how deep he's in it with Julian, I didn't think there was anything that would push him enough to let go of the chains he's had me in. And now, those chains have suddenly broken. No more Dad. No more rules.

The sound of a squealing drill snaps me out of thought. "Did he say how long?" I ask.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Travis looks at me directly now. "I know how hard he's been working you here, Ashton, but I'm not gonna make you bust your ass every day. It's cool if you want to take some time off until he gets back."

"Really?"

"Sure. You're in college, man. Girls, parties... what I wouldn't give," he muses, tucking the pen behind his ear. "What's that saying? When the cat's away, the mice will play."

I look around the garage, still expecting my dad to round a corner and yell at me, telling me this was a test. A trick to make me slip up.

"Ashton." My focus shifts to Travis when he slaps a hand to my shoulder. "Go play."