39 - Confessions of a Teenage Drama King - pt. 3

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Chapter Thirteen continued...

We drive up to an auto shop in Snobsdale

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We drive up to an auto shop in Snobsdale. Or what I think is an auto shop. It's a massive white building sitting atop a blacktopped island surround by grey concrete. There's no artistic flourish to the building but is a rectangular squat block. The columns seamlessly blended into the facade. The storefront is a set gigantic black window with bold black lettering above the door.

Precision.

I open the door to Kris's car and stare at the sleek building in intimidation. "I thought you said she was a mechanic."

"She is." Kris gets out his car and shuts his door. "Her parents own the place."

"It's not like any mechanic I've ever been to," I say.

"They service motorsports cars and exotic vehicles. Unless you're secretly a race car driver or own a Rari you wouldn't have." Kris says.

"How do you know she's working her today?" The question came from Katie. She is looking at the "auto shop" as unsure as I was. And it was a valid question.

"My Dad bought a used Aston Martin Vanquish S, the subframe was experiencing corrosion and PAS pump was..." He stops.

He realizes who he is talking to. "It needed a high-end mechanic. And she works Saturday like every other working teen in America. "

I didn't know what a Vanquisher is, but I'd heard of an Aston Martin. It's a shockingly expensive car. A car I'd probably never be able to afford. Kris had never mentioned he came from money. He didn't dress like it either. He is wearing his usual style long shorts, flip flops, and a plaid button-up shirt. The only thing missing was his backward baseball cap which he'd left in the car. He appears more corn-fed son of a farmer than the son of a wealthy businessman.

"Right, the PAS pump," Katie repeats. Her tone is tinged with mockery.

"Come on are we going in or not?" He says. It's a rhetorical question because he continues towards the shop entrance without waiting for our answer.

An electronic bell dings when the door opens. The room is bright and spacious. Dark leather furniture decorates the space and there's an empty reception desk running along the back wall. Through a glass wall, a warehouse garage is visible. Exotic cars are lined up in an organized line. Some sat alone in their dangerous beauty while others were suspended while a mechanic worked underneath. I'd never seen a shop this spotless before there didn't appear to be a tool out place.

A girl in black jumpsuit appears from behind a yellow and black race car. Her blonde ponytail swings in rhythm as she makes her way towards us.

"That girl can make onesie look good. All she's missing is a pair of black stilettos." Kris says.

Katie huffs. "True, but I doubt heels are conducive to her work environment."

The girl walks in the well-lit room and rubs her hands on a grimy rag. Kris is closer to the desk and she greets him first.

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