The Blind Boy

4.

"How was school?" Robb asks, looking up from his latest project, one that's sure to keep him obsessed until he finds the root source of the problem and fixes it. 

He's dirty with grease, uniform messed, curls amuck, but he looks happy and genuinely interested.

That's enough to brighten Ash's day. 

It's dirty inside Joe's, the auto repair shop where Robb works, and the air tastes of indistinguishable fumes, and there's a sense of heaviness in her chest as Ash breathes it in. Joe's is unbearably loud and makes her eyes sting, but it feels more like home than at Helen's, a frigid place that smells faintly of tobacco, teenage sweat, and broken dreams (should they ever have a scent). 

In other words, Ash loathes it there. She's only resided there since the summer, but she's had Helen as a foster parent before, and there's something about her that's even more despicable than the last few foster fathers that would grope her ass (and the CPS workers that would look the other way).

Joe's is an assault on all her senses, but Ash would stay here with Robb forever should it mean never having to walk into Helen's entryway.

"Oh, just fascinating," Ash replies dryly, setting her bag down on a patch of concrete that doesn't have oil staining it. Ash grabs an unused stool, sliding it over to him to rest, taking care to not scrape it against the floor. "When do you get off?"

"Another hour or so," he says, grunting at an apparently stubborn bolt that won't twist, exhaling as he relents and reaches for his toolbox. His brown eyes flit up to meet her expectant gaze. "Don't wait to eat on my account." 

There's a sudden clang from whatever he's working on and he curses, eyebrows knitted in frustrated concentration. 

Ash knows practically nothing about cars, really only that they get you from one place to another. She can't even differentiate the brands of them, let alone the complex parts that reside inside the machines, something (something being her 'insufferable ignorance') that drives Robb crazy. 

But it's not as if she has access to her very own car, and she gets around just fine on her skateboard, so there's not much relevant interest in the subject, but Ash entertains Robb with it nevertheless. 

She'll eventually get a car if she ever lives above the poverty line, (she doubts that) so she's grateful that Robb has taught her how to change a tire and do a jump start, even though his teachings are already slipping from her mind. 

"Seriously, though... if you miss curfew..." 

"Helen will be furious," she finally concedes with a small smile, but they both know she'll stick around until he's finished, and long after. 

They're both creatures of habit, thriving on the routine that their friendship brings them. It's a nice break from the unexpected, of being jostled from foster home to foster home, even though she knows Robb doesn't have to worry about that anymore. 

"Helen's always furious," Robb retorts through a sniff. 

It's painfully clear he's not over his time living with her. Many nights a few months ago consisted of Ash struggling to sleep while their arguments filled the air, and even now, Ash can practically feel the resentment as though it's a separate entity, hanging wrought in the air. "Pizza?" 

"Pizza," Ash agrees. 

As promised, an hour late they're in an Italian, family owned pizzeria that they think is their own special secret, what with how uncrowded it always is. Ash decidedly thinks that the family that runs it deserves so much more, but she enjoys the tranquility of the place, and the idea that it's their own safe haven makes it special; untouched by loud, boisterous crowds.