Shifting Gears

22. The Truth

It was pouring again the next day. The wipers in the Ford squeaked and were hardly able to keep up with the the pelting drops. I clicked on my blinker, turning into a well-kept driveway.

The McAllister's house look bleak in the stormy sky. I pulled up behind Mandy's car, noticing Greyson's truck was in the driveway as well, which was good, seeing as I came for him.

The engine sputtered off, and I leaned back against the headrest, sighing and watching the water splattering onto the sky window. I had spent the entire drive over here racking my head for an excuse that I could tell Mandy about why I was here. Gabby wasn't expecting a tutoring session, I had told Mandy we wouldn't do one this week. Maybe I could say I forgot? I rolled my eyes at myself.

A chime rang through the air as I felt my pocket buzz. Pulling my phone out, I saw the name—"Mandy McAllister".

I slid the screen up and peered at the small words.

Mandy: Are you here for Greyson?

I glanced sharply up to the house, trying to see through the streaks of water running down the windows. In the window of the kitchen, I saw Mandy's figure peering out toward me.

I looked down at my phone, my thumbs hovering as I hesitated, then realized it made no sense to lie.

Me: Yes. Is he inside?

Just a few seconds later, my phone buzzed again.

Mandy: The Garage. Do you know where that is?

Me: Yes.

Mandy: Ok - good luck.

I raised my eyebrows, pursing my lips as I breathed deeply. Mandy disappeared from the window, and I pulled my sweatshirt hood over my head before shoving my door open.

The raindrops were so dense it felt like someone poured a bucket of water on me right as I got out. I stepped immediately into a puddle in the driveway, my sneakers becoming drenched, but I shut my door and kept running. The grass squelched under my feet as I made my way toward the house, then around it. I saw the little log cabin about twenty yards away, nestled on the outskirts of the clearing. The tall trees glittered from the storm as they stood protectively around it.

I stepped in more puddles as I jogged, water hitting my bare legs and the hoodie and gym shorts I was wearing feeling like they grew an extra ten pounds by the time I reached the wooden door. I caught my breath, then reached my fist up and pounded on the door. Instantly, I heard Champ barking on the other side. I glanced over my shoulder at the house behind me, but the door in front of me opened and I whirled back around.

My neck craned as I looked up, meeting the eyes of the tall racer in the doorway.

Greyson looked taken aback at the sight of me soaked and standing at the door—glaring fiercely at him. He was wearing a dark forest green crewneck, which made his green eyes startlingly bright contrasted against it and his tanned skin.

"Cory," he stated, then opened his mouth like he was going to ask what I was doing here, but shut it quickly as he saw the anger in my eyes. He took a deep breath, then stepped back, letting me come inside out of the rain.

I strode in, pushing my hood off and letting the blonde waves that were quickly turning to little curls fall around my face. Champ's tail wagged as he sat next to me, licking my hand and then letting his tongue hang out, waiting for returned affection. I absentmindedly pat his head, but turned back toward Greyson as he shut the door. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his tattered jeans, eyes locked on the wall.

It looked the same in here as when I last saw it, when Greyson took me out on his dirtbike. Tools lined the wall, a mug half-filled with old coffee sat deserted on a tall rectangular workbench, and his bike rested on a stand at the end of the room. The cabin was dark, but a warm glow was cast from a lamp that was set up to glare at the engine of the bike, probably what Greyson was working on before I barged into his space.