Seeker: The Seeker Series Book 1

Chapter 3

He unlocked and held open the passenger door for me saying, "I'm gonna be painting it pretty soon. I thought the inside was more important to restore first." He looked adorably unsure of himself for a moment.

"It's really nice," I hastened to reassure him as I breathed in new leather, Jack's spicy cologne, and old car funk. "What is it? It's classic, right?"

His pained look plainly said I was the worst sort of neophyte. "Yeah, it's a '65 Mustang." As if that should clarify all. He stared at me like he couldn't believe I wouldn't know something like that.

"Oh, that's, um, old," I fumbled.

"Yeah." He laughed briefly, shaking his head. "So, we've established you know nothing about classic cars." I gave him an indignant look. "My uncle gave me this car. It was a complete wreck, but I've been restoring it a little at a time, when I'm not busy working."

"Oh, where do you work?" I asked, suddenly curious to know everything about him.

"I work for my uncle at his auto body shop. He's been teaching me the craft, and I get to use all his equipment in my off time. There's not much off time so it's slow going." He shrugged. His cell phone alarm suddenly beeped a reminder. He grabbed it and cursed softly. "Sorry. I forgot I have to pick up my sister from school today." He put the car in gear and began to back out, his arm slung across the seat back. "It's really close and won't take but a minute. Then I can drop you off."

"I can take the bus," I began.

"No, it's no problem. Where do you live, by the way?"

I gave him the directions. "Oh, great. That's pretty close to my sister's school." He reached to turn the volume down on the stereo, which was booming out the latest Arctic Monkeys CD. "Sorry. I crank it when I'm by myself."

"That's fine." I smiled. "I like Arctic Monkeys. What else do you listen to?"

We discussed music the rest of the short drive to pick up his sister. We turned out to have fairly similar tastes, except for his unexpected love of country music, which I abhor. He also confessed to liking a lot of Tejano music, which I guessed was part of his upbringing. He was able to scoff at my liking for Broadway soundtracks, so we were even. I could listen to his voice all day, a deep cadence with a hint of an accent, like maybe his first language was Spanish instead of English.

I was a bit surprised when Jack pulled the car into the roundabout at Sombra del Monte Elementary School, a half mile up Candelaria Boulevard. from Oso Grande High School where we attended. I had supposed his sister would be more in the middle school age range. He pulled forward as directed by the security guard and parked.

"I'll be right back." He gave me a half-smile then strode up the front walk of the school as a swarm of small children poured out the front doors, diverting around him as he waited. One of the last to emerge was a very small black-haired girl holding a teacher's hand, which she dropped when she saw Jack and skipped excitedly to him. He scooped her up, Hello Kitty backpack, lunchbox, and all. She plastered a sloppy-looking kiss on his cheek and began what looked like a very one-sided chatter to him as they walked back to the car. He loaded her into the back seat, buckling her into a booster car seat I hadn't noticed before.

"And then Joshua called Tonia a poop-head and Teacher heard him and he got sent to the time-out chair and who's that?" she quizzed, finally stopping for a breath.

"That's Ally. She's a friend of mine," he said as he finished fastening her seat belt across the booster seat. I really liked the thought of being a friend of his. "We're gonna drop her off real quick, okay?"

"Okay. Hi, Ally. I'm Megan. I'm six. I'm in first grade. I like dogs. Do you like dogs? I have a dog named Sodapop. Your hair is pretty. Do you think her hair is pretty, Jack?"

Jack concentrated on pulling safely onto the street, but spared me an apologetic smile and said, "How much sugar did they give you today, Megan? Yes, I think her hair is very pretty."

Darn my red-haired complexion that blushed so easily! I turned in my seat to address Megan. "Nice to meet you, Megan. Yes, I like dogs, but I have a cat. His name is Mr. Wickham but we call him Wicky. Why did you name your dog Sodapop?"

She giggled a cute little-girl giggle. "Wicky! That's a funny name! My brother named Sodapop. It's from a book."

I turned and raised my eyebrows expectantly at him.

Another self-deprecating half-smile. "It's from The Outsiders. You know, Sodapop Curtis?" He turned onto my street.

"Yeah, I read it in middle school. Sodapop, huh? There, on the left." I directed him to my house and he pulled to the curb.

"Wait there." He jumped out and ran around to open my door, holding out his hand to help me out. Who does that anymore? His hand was rough with calluses, probably from the manual labor he did at his uncle's shop. I liked the warmth and the feel of it a lot. He again grabbed my backpack and walked me up to my door.