Rayston Point Road || Editing

Chapter Six

After driving aimlessly up and down Rayston Point, taking in some of the side streets as I tried to work the frustration out of my body, I pulled into the parking lot of the pier I had spent the night at. Much more populated at the midday hour, even in late May, I scanned the variety of college-aged groups, already out of school for the summer, for any familiar faces belonging to the crowd I had been with last night. Not finding any, I grabbed a book from the backseat of my car and made my way over to the pier, settling in the shade provided from the boardwalk above, where the sand was still relatively cool and the sun wouldn't burn me.

By the time I looked up from the worn pages of a book I had read dozens of times already, over an hour had passed, and the clock on my phone told me that it was nearing one o-clock, and the nearly painful rumbling inside of my stomach was reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything in over a day. Not yet interested in returning home, but desperate for something to eat, I made my way back up the beach and to my car. As I dropped into the front seat, keeping the door open and my legs propped up to avoid the already burning leather seats, I twisted the key in the ignition, dropping my head as the car vibrated and stalled. I relaxed the keys, waiting a moment, and then tried again, and a third time, before resigning myself to the fact that my car had once again failed me, and was not going to start. Chucking my keys angrily onto the floor in front of the passenger seat behind me, I dug into my back pocket for my phone and opened my contacts, scrolling until I found my sister's name. My thumb hovered over her name for a moment, and then Dan's, until I decided that I didn't want to call either of them. I was still harboring anger at Leighton for her comment last night and our fight this morning, and I knew Dan well enough to know that if I called him, Leighton would still be the one to pull up beside me to jump my car.

Switching to the browser on my phone, I scrolled through local towing companies and repair shops, frowning when I realized the only one in town was AJ's, the shop Isaac had mentioned yesterday after hitting my car. Sighing, I leaned over and rested my elbow on my thigh and my head in my hand as I pressed the call button for AJ's and waiting for someone on the other end to pick up. After giving my name, number, and location to a voice I thankfully didn't recognize over the phone, I reached back to grab my book and opened it again as I sat sideways in the driver's seat, waiting until a blue and white tow truck pulled up behind my car. Looking up from my book, I watched as the door swung open and a familiar blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy dropped down out of the cab of the truck. As he walked towards me, I wracked my brain for his name, but couldn't recall. All I could remember was that he had been in the bed of Mac's truck last night.

"Hey, Loren," he greeted me, adjusting the black rimmed glasses on his face, making me feel less than stellar about not remembering his name. Fortunately for me, the black pants, open blue button up and white t-shirt uniform he was wearing also came with a nametag stuck over the left side of his chest.

"Alex." I folded one of the already creased corners of the page I was on and closed my book, squinting up at him through the sun. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his work pants, rocking back on his heels. I could tell instantly by the way his eyes flittered back and forth between me and the roof of the car, and the way he lightly pressed his lips together in a tight line, that he was exponentially less extroverted than the boys I was used to dealing with.

"It won't start, so there's something wrong with the starter. You could probably just jump it and it'd be back to running, but Isaac told me yesterday I should bring it by to have someone bump the dent out of the hood." I watched Alex's eyes drift over to my hood. "So, it's all yours." I stood up and moved out of the way, walking to sit at the wooden beam that marked the end of the parking lot and the start of the beach, opening my book again while Alex worked to lift my car onto the back of his truck.