Sebastian 'Bash' Walker is a partying Good-Time bloke who landed a full ride scholarship from out of The Bush of the outback in Australia to Magnolia Falls University. Magnolia Falls is located in Cajun Country, Louisiana USA where the food is hot...
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The ride back with Jared is awful. However, he's kind enough to not attempt to fill the silence on the drive.
I'm stuck in my head with images of Foxy's bloated face. Thoughts of being suffocated then brought back only to suffer again and again. A never-ending nightmare, until he finally was done with her.
While I was laying in my warm bed, scrolling through Instagram, looking and checking out the weather report for the snowstorm we were getting, Foxy was being tortured.
I sniffle, wiping my wet cheeks, keeping my face glued to the passenger window to be sure Jared doesn't have to deal with me crying in his car.
"So, when I left the house, Bash was still working on your car. I guess it's more than just the spark plugs."
Fucking great.
"Mmhmm." I nod but remain staring out the window.
"Did... Did you find something out?" He asks, carefully. His voice is soft and comforting.
"No." I lie and spot the Frat House among the others on the street. Then the Blue Piece of Shit comes into view.
"Okay. Shit, that doesn't look good." Jared says as we pull up behind the bus. The doors are open to the cabin and I cringe, realizing he had to go inside to where I'd been living. What I know as the freaking engine to the car is laying out on a grey tarp behind the back of the bus. "I've got class, but are you able to call an Uber to make your shift?" He asks.
"Sure." I mutter, numb due to everything. I don't have the money to spend on Ubers. At least, not until I get my first paycheck, next week. And now, there's no way I can pay Bash for doing this. How am I going to get to Magnolia Bar and Grill? How am I going to go apartment hunting? I don't have enough money for a bus fare or Uber and to have a down payment on an apartment.
I climb from the 4Runner and shut the door, shuffling over to the engine laying on the tarp and crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
My eyes lift to Bash who's jogging from inside the garage that's been converted into a living room with couches, tables, and a large TV. He's carrying a tool bag and fucking shirtless. His hands are literally black, and as he walks over to the engine, completely ignoring me, I notice some black smudges on his forehead and stomach.
"So," I say, my voice still raspy from the yelling and hurling I'd done earlier. "Can I sell it, at least?"
Bash smirks, and nearly takes my breath away but goes back to the engine, taking a metal cap off from it after he unscrews the screws with a wrench. "I don't think anyone with a brain would buy this from you."
Ouch...
"I mean, she's in rough shape." He adds, hoping to dull the insult. "You could maybe get a grand out of it after I'm finished and get it started."
