Girl On Fire

5

"You can back it up to here!" I yelled at the tow truck driver, pointing to spot in the grass besides my drive way in front of my garage, since the drive way was being taken up by the bands van. The driver brought my truck back not too long later that day.

I stood with my arms crossed and hands tucked under my armpits while I watched with a stern face, taking in the sight of my damaged truck, thinking of all the ways I could possibly fix it without bringing it to the shop. A lot would have to be replaced and would take forever to get it to work again. I'd need to start taking the bus places.

The boys were inside and napping in my bed and the guest room, resting their drunk tired bodies before having to leave again. I didn't get a chance to nap, so I'm dealing with the hangover at the moment. A bit nauseous but I was able to push it down for a bit.

As I watched the man untie the truck from the back, I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, blowing the smoke into the decently cold air. It's Florida so it wasn't really all that cold. To me, it was cold enough to wear a sweater. To the boys, however, this probably wasn't shit compared to their cold weather.

Once the man finished, I tipped him a $5 bill as a thank you and watcher him drive off down the dirt road, disappearing into the dust it was trailing behind. When he was gone and out of sight, I put on a pair of gloves and opened up the truck hood to take a look at the damage, the cigarette hanging from my lips.

I felt like my uncle. I always remembered him with a cigarette in his mouth while working out on the vehicles he bought to fix up and sell. I'd come outside and watch him, asking him a million questions about all the parts he was working on. I did always peak interest in car work, just never did it until the truck was in my hands.

The damage wasn't horrible. It wasn't too burnt but it would take a while to fix and order all the parts. I pulled out some of the grass stems that got stuck in the lights and cracks of the vehicle, throwing it to the ground. I walked to the side and opened the driver door, taking out the mats to clean and get rid of the odor of the smoke.

"Shit." I mumbled once I saw the shattered glass of the back window. Might as well get done what I can while the boys nap. Seems they'll be out for a while. Least I can do is clean it.

About an hour later, mid way of cleaning out the truck with a gas mask on, Josh came walking out, sluggishly. God, was that man a sight to see. His curly hair was a mess and his voice was slightly raspy; you could tell he just woke up a few minutes prior.

"What you got going on here? You work on cars?" He asked me, a hint of interest behind his tired voice. I stood up, pulled my mask down and took a drag from my cigarette that was sitting in an ashtray holder that sat on the bed of my truck, blowing it away from his face and into the air.

"Yeah. When my dad dipped, I took his truck he was working on and fixed it up myself so I could use it." I told him, placing the cigarette back in my mouth. Josh nodded, taking the cigarette from my mouth and took a drag himself, as if it was completely normal to do that.

That was unnecessarily attractive.

"Oh, you think you're hot shit?" I joked, surprised that he did what he did. I didn't know he even smoked. He took another hit before taking it out and side smiled at me.

"Yeah, I think I'm quite the hot shit, thank you." He said, amusement written on his face. I rolled my eyes with a smile as he handed it back to me.

"So, he dipped? Like left home?" He asked.

"No, he died." I said bluntly. I didn't really know how to talk about it appropriately, so Josh choked on his spit, taken aback from my blunt response.