Fortuitous {WLW}

Chapter Twenty-Three: Transparency

Emerson's POV: 🔞NSFW Warning🔞

I sigh as I crank the wrench one last time before wiping my forehead with a rag. This goddam car has more problems than it's worth. The engine had a constant knock in it, so I replaced it. Fucker was not cheap either, practically took up all the money I've made so far, only leaving we with a couple dollars to spend on groceries.

It's fine, it's not like I wanted to eat this week anyways.

I begin connecting the engine's wiring, the only light coming from within the garage as the sun has long set.

Greta Van Fleet blares in the garage, so loud that if I had neighbors, they'd hate me. Thankfully, Cole's family has no neighbors for about a mile on either side. I can play my music as loud as I want and no one bothers me or visits unless I say so.

It's not like I'd have a lot of people over anyways. Who would visit me? Tate? Saylor? They're the only ones that know I'm out here.

It's rare I've had anyone out here, especially at night, so seeing a car's headlights make its way down the gravel road leading to the house in my peripheral, causes me to stop what I'm doing and direct my attention to it.

I wipe my hands off on my rag as I turn my music down and the car pulls into the driveway. I hold my hand above my eyes to shield them from the headlights, noticing Saylor's Chevy Impala pull in.

I feel relief that it's not some creep, but my anxiety practically doubles knowing it's Saylor.

Saylor is much scarer than some random. The feelings she gives me are much more terrifying than any axe welding manic could make me feel, mainly because I don't know her intentions.

A killer's intentions are clear, to kill. Saylor's intentions are unclear. The things she says and does, would make anyone believe she would reciprocate the feelings I have for her, but there are doubts.

I've fallen into the trap of the 'straight' girl more times than I'd like to admit. It's terrifying being someone's first, especially when it comes to something so delicate like romance.

Love and romance bring out a sense of vulnerability and exposure that is terrifying to display regardless, let alone giving those sides of yourself to someone that you are unsure is even sure of you.

Saylor has a tendency to run and I don't know if I'm enough to get her to settle. Some girls find out they are queer and they want to experience all the things they missed out on during the years they didn't know. I don't want to stand in the way and I don't want to get hurt.

Heartbreak is one thing, but the utter embarrassment of Peyton holding the power over me to tell me she's right seems almost worst.

There's no reward if there's no risk though. If I don't try, I won't know how good or bad this could be for me and even if Saylor destroys me, at least I would have known what it felt like to have her, even if it was just for a moment.

Saylor exits her car, a smile apparent on her face as her eyes beam in anticipation and she holds a bag in her hand, easing the knots of nerves in my stomach.

"Hey, princess." I say as she walks up to me, analyzing my state, and causing my anxiousness to increase again.

I look down, seeing the grease on my arms, tank top, and jeans. It's probably not the best look, but I wasn't exactly expecting visitors and quite frankly, knowing she's checking me out... puts me a bit at ease.

My eyes look back up at Saylor's as her eyes still linger on my torso, her cheeks reddening as she notices me catching her gaze.

"Hungry?" She asks, holding up the food.