Pusher

fourteen.

My palms were beat red from slamming them into the steering wheel by the time I was finished cursing Maverick out in every way I could possibly think of. The last time I was this furious was when Miles dumped the ice cream cake I got for my eighth birthday over my head.

But Maverick didn't have the luxury of being family. He was a certified jerk in every sense of the word and I was going to get him back for what he didn't to my car. As soon as I figured out what exactly that was.

I called Miles. If anyone could figure out what was wrong with my car, it was him. Well, at least he was the only one who would give it a shot without charging me. Besides, I'm pretty sure he owed me for something or other.

It took three calls until he finally picked up. By then my voice had stopped shaking, thankfully. I wish I could say it was out of anger, but I'd be lying if I said a few tears slipped hadn't slipped out while I was condemning Maverick to hell.

Miles's voice was deep and husky, almost groggy sounding. As soon as I heard the light laughter in the background, I knew he was with a boy. Three o'clock in the afternoon was a little early to be having a one night stand. I let myself hope that this boy was more than that.

My cousin promised to come as soon as he could, but knowing Miles, that could be anywhere from ten minutes to next week.

I camped out in my back seat and pulled out my AP Physics homework. My mind was too clouded to focus much on the problems. I was too busy conjuring imaginary conversations with Maverick, planning on what I would say the next time we saw each other.

I won't repeat it word for word, but you might say I'd give a truck driver a run for their money.

I broke the tip of my pencil three times from grinding it too hard into the page by the time Miles showed up. 

He parked his truck next to me and left the cab with squinted eyes and bedhead. His clothes were wrinkled as if he slept in them last night, and he smelled suspiciously like stale beer.

"What seems to be the problem, cuz?" he asked.

"See for yourself," I said and cranked the ignition forward once more.

He made a thoughtful grunt in the back of his throat. I couldn't decipher quite what it meant.

"Pop the hood, would ya?" He rounded the car and I did as he asked. He lifted it the rest of the way.

I got out of the vehicle and leaned against its side as he looked around. I was pretty much useless, but I could at least pretend otherwise.

"So how did this happen?" he asked, flicking his eyes up to me. I caught the pink that colored his corneas. Typical.

"Some jerk screwed with my car."

"Which jerk?"

"The same one I told you about last Sunday dinner. He wants me to stop dealing and has been pretty adamant about it lately," I muttered, trying to sound casual.

Miles straightened up from the hood and held a hard expression. His eyebrows furrowed together. "He didn't threaten you, did he?"

I kicked at the ground, digging my toe into a divot in the cement. "Not exactly."

"Well, what did he say?"

I debated telling him. I already knew he would over-react, his brotherly instincts kicking in full force. I could handle Maverick on my own. Not to mention, Miles wasn't nearly as docile and harmless as he looked. He didn't need to be involved any more than he already was. It was about time I fought my own battles.

He sent me a sharp look, reading my thoughts effortlessly. He wasn't about to drop the subject any time soon, and I was never going to get my car back on the road without his help.

I repeated Maverick's vague statement about not wanting to see me get hurt.

"That son of a bi-"

"Really, Miles. It's not a big deal. I can handle myself. "

"Just wait until I wrap my hand around his skinny little neck."

I groaned, throwing my head into my hands. "You're talking about assault on a minor, Miles. If you touch him you could face serious jail time, and I won't let you risk that for me."

He released something between a frustrated groan and a strangled sigh, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The knuckles pushed through his hair and his fingers interlaced at the back of his neck. His hands dropped but the tension that strung through him remained taut as he looked up at me.

"If he ever does anything that makes your feel unsafe, you tell me," he said. The urgency in his voice made me uneasy. "Promise me, Angelica."

I noded, and decided to not mention that Maverick simply being in the same room as me made me feel unsafe. He was a loose cannon in the flesh.

But if things started going my way, I wouldn't have to worry about Maverick much longer. I'd submitted my resume to at least a dozen fast food places and retail shops. As soon as one was willing to take me, I could leave dealing behind, along with Maverick's threats.

My promise seemed to satisfy Miles, at least of now, and he leaned down over the engine once more.

I balanced my palms on the side of the car, leaning over it too, but I was only looking at my cousin. I tried to fight off the dumb smile that inched its way onto my lips.

"So I heard another boy's voice when we were talking on the phone earlier," I said, trying to be casual about it. I wasn't, and he stiffened, but otherwise ignored the comment. I took it as a cue to push further. "Is he just a friend or something more?"

"It's complicated."

"How complicated?"

He released an exasperated sigh, sending me a hard look that radiated annoyance. "It just is, alright? Why are you so invested in my love life, anyway?"

"I'm your nosy younger cousin," I shrugged. "I'm supposed to pester you about these things. Besides, I need to decide if this guy is good enough for you." I winked at him.

He rolled his eyes, but said, "If things get serious, I'll let you meet him."

"Really?" That was a lot more than what I had anticipated. Other than dragging me to the occasional college party, Miles generally kept me away from his other friends, especially boyfriends.

"Sure, we can go see his band play or something."

"A musician?" I said, playfully punching his arm. My eyes crinkled as I grinned. "Sounds hot."

He shook his head and tried to hide his sheepish smile by tilting his head down and focusing on my car, but I saw the undeniable curve of his lips and took it as a success.

"That little bugger," he muttered.

I looked up and he pointed to somewhere around the engine. I acted as if I understood what he was showing me. I never had a knack for cars, and it was faster to just play pretend in this kind of situation.

"You see these? They're your spark plugs. Basically, they start the engine by using the power from your car battery. It looks like he unplugged them all. Don't worry. It's an easy fix."

I released a relief filled sigh and waited until Miles had clicked the hood shut before throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug.

"I owe you a million," I said.

He brushed me off, a sheepish smile on his lips. "I'm holding you to that."