Grease Monkey- h.s

10

I gobbled up my omlette and headed for the door. "Bye mom!" I called out as I climbed into the car with my dad. He was driving me to school. It was Monday and yes, I'd decided to stay in Arkansas - for now.

With Kyle and Tessa in love in New York, I wasn't so sure I wanted to face that everyday yet. I was still hurt.

I walked down the hallway to first period, casually hoping to catch a glance of a tall, curly headed mechanic, but I never did.

At lunch, I went to my usual spot outside and his smoke spot, but it was empty. I was surprised at myself. Not only was I disappointed, but I wanted to see him. I wanted to talk to him. He was supposed to be back today, yet he was nowhere to be found.

Math class dragged on and by the time the bell rang, I was more than ready to leave school.

I went straight home, instead of stopping by the shop. A part of me wanted to go look for him, but the other part of me was afraid of disappointment.

I'd never been so emotional. I went from hating Harry to thinking I needed him, to not caring, to wanting to see him all in one week. I was utterly exhausted. But I'd made up my mind to talk to him and come clean. Hopefully he'd do the same and we could start our friendship over. But that wouldn't happen if he didn't come back.

++

"I think it's the oil." My not so car-smart dad was looking at my old car, trying to diagnose the problem. "Why'd that friend of yours quit working on it again?" He looked desperate.

"He's out of town." I shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask any more about Harry. Thankfully, he dropped the subject.

Since our dinner table hoopla and my mom's purchase of a plane ticket, my relationship with my parents was beginning to mend itself. They were the only people on my team anymore. I needed them and they needed me, so I realized it was time to stop being a brat.

"Well run down there and get some oil and a filter from Bart. We'll see if I can't get this thing running again!" My dad was trying to help, but I didn't think it was the oil. Harry had already been there & tried that. But I took his keys and went to see Bart anyways.

As I drove, I didn't think much about Harry. He wasn't at school today, so I figured he was still in New York.

I pulled into the shop & strolled into the front office. "Hey Bart!" I chirped.

"Hey little lady! What can we do for ya?" He grinned.

"Oil and a filter, please!"

"Well, since Harry's been working on that car of yours, why don't ya run around back and he'll get ya taken care of!" Bart grinned some more.

"Wait, Harry's here?" I stuttered.

"Of course! Where else would he be?" Bart chuckled and went to his office.

I stood there in shock, with my heart in my stomach. I didn't even get a chance to practice what I wanted to say. I walked out if the office and once outside, I paced back and forth, praying for the right words.

"Something wrong?" Louis laughed as he came up behind me.

"No shit, Sherlock." I spoke out loud, but then dropped my voice to a whisper. "Harry's here." I pointed towards the shop.

Louis raised his eyebrows. "Yes, where else would he be?"

"He wasn't at school today!" I defended.

"So you were looking for him?" Louis smirked.

"No." I shot back. "Ugh maybe. Louis what do I say?"

"Just tell him what you want him to know. Do I look like a therapist?" He rolled his eyes.

"Nope." I looked past him, my nerves getting to me. "I'm surprised you're even talking to me though. You hate me!" I laughed half-heartedly, bringing my focus back to him.

"I don't hate you, Kenna. I just didn't get a great first impression. You're different than what I thought." He almost smiled. I could've hugged him right there, but I was still tripping over the fact that Harry was somewhere inside that shop. "Quit stalling and just go talk to him." Louis demanded.

I took a deep breath and Louis gave me a thumbs up before I went into the shop & he went into the office.

I walked around a big toolbox, looking for Harry. He was up under a truck with nothing but his feet sticking out. I did what I usually did and nudged his foot with mine. He slid out, eyes wide. He just kind of looked at me as if he was shocked to see me.

"Hey." I mumbled, giving him a small wave.

"Hi." He leaned up onto his elbows, still looking at me.

"Can we talk?" I finally asked, hoping he'd do something other than stare at me.

"Um, sure." He climbed off of the creeper and wiped his hands on his rag. "Would you like to take a walk? Might be a bit more of privacy." He pointed to the office window. I laughed & nodded when I saw Bart and Louis pressed up against the glass, watching us.

He led the way and we began to walk down the main dirt road.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry." It took about five minutes of awkward silence and walking for me to find enough courage to speak. But once I said it, I automatically felt like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. "You were the only person to befriend me, and I took you for granted. It was really shitty and I'll never forgive myself. But you didn't just befriend me, you tried to fix my car. I don't know why, but you were really nice. And I needed that. So yeah. Thank you." I kept going, but he cut me off.

"You ramble when you're nervous." He smirked, not making eye contact with me.

"I'm not nervous." I lied. Harry looked at me doubtfully before shaking his head and looking away. "I'm not!"

He didn't respond or look at me. "Say something." I urged. We were still walking and I needed to hear more than the crunch of our feet on the gravel.

"I don't think I necessarily owe you an apology for my words because what I said was true. I am sorry if I hurt you, though." He looked at me.

"I don't think you should apologize either. I was just wanting you to accept mine." I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt.

"I do." He lit a cigarrette.

"So." I said, nervously.

"So what?" He looked at me curiously.

"Why were you in New York?"