"Don't make promises you can't keep."
---
Noah Reed is lost. Fed up with his constant attitude and need for self-destruction, his mother sends him to live out the rest of the year with his father in hop...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You have got to be kidding me."
I slow my car to a stop, pulling onto the side of the road. Exiting my car, I rush toward my back tires, only to find my suspicions proven correct.
I've got a flat tire.
"Great," I mumble under my breath, shaking my head.
As if today hasn't already been terrible, it has to get worse. First, there was my awful encounter with Mason this morning. Then I'd missed first period because I'd been too busy crying in the bathroom, which is more pathetic than I'd like to admit. During lunch period, my throat had started to burn as if I'd been drinking fire. I found out I had a fever after a visit to the nurse, though couldn't leave school because I needed to stay and turn in a project for fourth period. Now both of my parents have to work late, so I'm supposed to be picking up my younger siblings from school.
I know it's no use to call my parents about my flat, so I pull out my phone and dial my sister, Brooke, praying that she'll be free and can pick up the kids.
"What?" Brooke snaps the second she picks up, already sounding annoyed.
I inhale a sharp breath that only makes my throat hurt worse. "Sorry to bother you," I croak. "I can't pick up the twins and Jackie. Mama and Daddy are both working late today, so I was hoping you could get them?"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Brooke questions. "You sound terrible."
"I have a slight fever," I admit. "That's not the issue, though. I have a flat, so I can't pick up the kids. I'm already running late. Please tell me you can get them, Brooke."
"Sure," Brooke agrees, "but you should try to head home. You really don't sound good."
"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. I think I can make it to Matt's shop down the road. I'll call you if I need a ride."
"Okay," Brooke says, sounding skeptical. "I'm on my way to the preschool now. Can you text the twins and tell them I'm getting them?"
My sister and I hang up a few moments later, and I get back into the car, hoping my flat tire will cut me some slack and allow me to make it to the shop. It's not the smoothest ride, but I end up at my destination with little difficulty.
"Hey, Blake," Mr. Reed says as he approaches me after I pull into the lot. "Car troubles?"
"I've got a flat," I explain. My throat is scratchy and it feels like it's a million degrees outside. I can feel little beads of sweat beginning to drop down my neck, yet I shake as if I'm cold.
Matt eyes me carefully for a moment, concern laced into his expression. "Are you all right, Blake?"
"I'm okay. I just need my tire patched."
Mr. Reed nods, though he still looks concerned. "I can have that done in a jiffy, but it's also time for your monthly inspection. Do you want to postpone that for later, or do you want me to go ahead and take a look?"
