Chevelle's Story

chapter 1

The first time someone broke into Chevelle Etienne's car, she was 19 years old, very stressed about her rapidly approaching final exams, and very relieved to use her misfortune as an excuse for failing three of them. And I say 'first time' because, yes, her car was broken into more than once—twice, to be exact. Unless you're counting friendly break-ins, in which case, her car was broken into a grand total of three times—but we'll get to all that later.

The second time someone broke into Chevelle's car, she was 23 years old.

The break-in happened while Chevelle was stopped at a highway diner halfway through her 5-hour-long drive home for Christmas. And whoever broke into her car this time must've somehow known she was dreading being home, because unlike when Chevelle was 19 and the thief took most of her belongings yet left the car intact, this time the thief touched none of her belongings and instead, took her car battery.

In the four years since her first break-in, Chevelle had learned many things about herself, but it's safe to say that the most important thing she had learned was that she not only hated stress; she physically couldn't handle it. Like, at all. Her inability to handle stress was what had caused her to fail most of her exams right after that first break-in, and it was also what had caused her to push her ex-boyfriend right into the arms of her sister (but again, we'll get to that later).

Nowadays, Chevelle did a better job of protecting her peace. She did everything she could to avoid stress, removing herself from situations whenever possible, or at the very least, distracting herself with something else until she knew she was capable of fixing the problem. So, naturally, when Chevelle left the diner and discovered her car battery was missing, she did the only thing she could think to do at that moment: she left the car there.

Now, of course Chevelle planned to come back for her car, but it was already getting late and she knew it would be near impossible to find a mechanic that night, so for now, she needed to get creative.

After debating with herself about whether or not a Lyft would be worth it, Chevelle finally decided to call her dad and tell him what had happened. As you've probably already guessed, he was less than thrilled about having to make the four-hour drive to pick her up from the diner and bring her home.

He and Chevelle both.

Chevelle had originally planned on staying sober since she thought she would be driving herself the rest of the way home, but now that the circumstances had changed, she saw no need to spend the next few hours in her car doing nothing. Plus, if she was going to be stuck in a car with her dad for two whole hours, she figured it wouldn't hurt to at least stretch her legs a bit first. And have a drink.

The waitress who had attended to Chevelle frowned when she saw her reenter the diner. "Is everything okay over here?" she asked, joining Chevelle where she was standing by the door.

"Yeah," Chevelle nodded. "I was just wondering if you guys serve drinks here."

The waitress—Kelsey, I think her name was—shook her head and gave Chevelle an apologetic smile. "Sorry, we don't serve alcohol," she said. And Chevelle couldn't say she was particularly surprised since it was a diner, after all, but she had just been hoping that since her car was dead and she was about to spend four miserable days with her family, the universe would at least be kind enough to enable her diet alcoholism.

"There's a bar right down the street though, if you're looking to have a drink," Kelsey said, and that was all Chevelle needed to hear.

Yes, she knew it was a quarter-mile walk down the highway, and yes, she knew how cold it was outside, but what were her alternatives? It was either she huddled up in her car (that was now unable to heat itself) for two hours, or she stayed here ordering bottomless hot chocolates while Kelsey pitied her from the corners of the diner for two hours. Both terrible, and both sober.