SATELLITE HEART [A BARLEY LIGHTFOOT x READER STORY]

chapter 4

Barley Lightfoot quickly became a good friend of yours. In only a matter of three weeks, you were ready to say that he was your absolute best friend --- the best you'd ever had. You loved hanging out with him, talking to him, seeing him, even if it was only for a moment. He was easy to talk to. He was sweet and funny --- you were always laughing when you were with him, and you always felt like he cared about you. He taught you so much about the town you had lived in all of your life. He knew so many things and it made you wonder where your parents ever got the idea that Barley was some kind of screw-up. 

He was waiting in your driveway every single morning to take you to work, and he was there ten minutes before you even clocked out to pick you up after your shift. He would offer to take you to dinner every single time, until you finally asked him to please let you pay for dinner. He was wasting a crap ton of gas on you anyway, but he assured you that it didn't matter. He liked that you got to hang out, even if it was just on the way home.

You agreed.

You also grew increasingly nervous and aware of how secretive you were being. Your parents noticed a shift in your mood. They even questioned you on it, and they questioned you on why your taste in music changed and you were suddenly listening to heavy metal, and why you stayed silent when they complained about their neighbors --- or neighbor, because they never had much to say about Laurel or Ian or Colt. Only Barley.

It made you sick to your stomach. You hated lying. You hated keeping secrets. But most of all, you hated how much they disliked the one person you liked more than anyone.

But it was because of what they thought of him that you kept your friendship a secret. You couldn't risk losing him because of their judgement. There would be no changing your parents' minds. If they didn't like someone, then they didn't like someone --- and they used it as a life sentence. 

So when your parents went to work and you were home alone, finally getting a day off on your own, you would sneak over to Barley's house. His stepdad and his mom were gone for the day. It would just be you and him --- and you would sit in the garage with Barley while he worked on his van. 

"I rebuilt the air conditioning," he told you as he patted the side of the van, "'cause I heard your complaints and took them very seriously."

"Well, you were driving me to work every single day in a stuffy van," you laughed. 

"Yes, well, now look what I'm doing for you," he said. "Soon enough, Guinevere here is gonna be the best van around. Well. She already is. But soon she'll actually be able to be exactly like a normal van, 'cause when I bought her, she didn't have air conditioning. Or heating. Or windshield wipers. Or a steering wheel. Or brakes." 

"Can I help?"

"Sure," he said, smiling. "Come on, I'll show you what to do." 

Barley laid on his back on the floor of the van, and you sat with your legs tucked up in the seat. He talked you through what you had to do --- how to hold the wires, how to use the tools he handed you ---and you loved every moment of even this, just because talking to him was the easiest thing in the world. Being with him was the easiest thing in the world. 

"Let's try it out," he said, sitting up off the floor of the van. You grabbed his arm and helped him sit in the passenger seat. He fixed his beanie and reached over, flipping on the air conditioning. Right away, the air blew violently against your entire body. You laughed and Barley laughed, and you hurriedly turned it off and looked at him, eyes wide and hair a wild mess. "It works great!" 

"It's a little powerful," you said. 

"Yeah, well," he said, shrugging and leaning against the frame of the van door. "Guinevere is powerful. So I think it works perfect for her."