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Fourteen:

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Fourteen:

A flat tire.

That was my one and only impediment of getting in time to Hills Park. Because of it I would end up making Michael wait for me for too long.

I was a little bit reluctant to go to Hills Park, though. It was usually deserted, with a large amount of trees that made the park look like a miniature forest in the middle of a town. I liked that, but the winter gave the whole picture an eerie perspective, especially with the naked branches of the trees.

It made me wonder why would Michael want us to go there.

I also wondered what he would want to tell me in the first place. I really, really hoped he hadn't checked the latest comments on the blog. I didn't have any good explanations for those.

A curse slipped under my breath. I forced the car to a stop on the pavement not even twenty feet away from my house, and quickly got out.

I checked the tires one by one, circling the car. Sure enough, my eyes landed on a small hole into the back tire, which turned out to be the source of my problem.

My spirits dropped. I'd never changed a flat tire before. I wasn't even sure I had a spare one in the trunk, even though mom had always told me to carry one with me in case something like this happened. She knew her reasons, I realized now.

Shit.

The trunk was as empty as it could be. The only thing present was the random ball of dust, resembling a prop from those old Western movies.

Letting out a sigh, I rushed back to my house and searched for a spare wheel. The attic was filled with all kind of things, dumped there as the time passed. I'd seen dad occasionally dumping his old tires in the attic. Surely they would still be here.

I found myself grabbing something from the pile, my hands pulling onto it as I managed to get it out from underneath all the other objects.

Eureka!

A wheel. It looked a little bit old and it definitely could've used some cleaning, but it would have to do. As long as it didn't break, it was all I needed.

Now that I'd found my rescue, I travelled the whole house and went to the garage, taking all the other car tools I needed in order to change the tires.

I'd seen dad do that a couple of times. Hopefully I managed to inherit some skills from him.

I picked everything up and placed them into my arms, somehow managing not to drop anything in my way toward the car.

I dropped everything next to the car and sat on my knees, my ripped jeans letting my skin touch the ground.

I carefully jacked the car up and changed the wheels, probably with some godly help that made it all happen in less than ten minutes.

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