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I looked back down into the trunk for a moment. “Or,” I said, before I even knew I was going to, “we could change it.”
“We—could?” Russell stared at me. “I mean—I can’t. Have you changed a tire before?”
“I’ve seen someone do it.” I knew this wasn’t the same thing at all—and the last thing I wanted to do was mess up Wylie’s prized Bronco. But if we could do this, it would save us a lot of time. We wouldn’t have to wait for a tow truck to come and find us on the side of the highway. Maybe I’d even make it home before my dad—maybe this could all still be okay.
“I mean—if you think you can, that’s amazing,” he said. “My mom would be so impressed with you.”
“Well—I haven’t actually done it. But I know it can be done. So maybe we could find a YouTube video, just to be on the safe side?”
Russell nodded. “That I can do.”
I gave him a smile, then twisted my hair up into a knot on the top of my head and pulled the end through so it stayed.
Russell googled change tire how to video easy, and we watched it three times in a row before we even attempted it. The host was a cheerful Texan guy who made the whole thing seem simple—and even like a fun adventure.
But what had seemed so easy, watching it as a kid, was a lot harder in real life. It took both me and Russell several tries with the wrench to even get the lug nuts to loosen a little. The longer everything took, the more I was starting to feel myself getting nervous. I was hot, and dusty, and wondering if this was just a huge mistake. “Let me try again,” I said, reaching for the wrench. The sweat was beading on my forehead and dripping down my back, and I couldn’t stop myself from pulling out my phone to check the time on the map, once again. As I looked, my stomach clenched. I could see just how much time had been added to our arrival—and we weren’t even on the road yet.
Russell wasn’t saying anything, but what if I’d messed this up? What if we had to call AAA now, and had to wait all this time for them to come? If I hadn’t suggested this—would we have already been to a garage by now with the tire halfway to getting fixed by a professional?
“I think I’ve almost… got it…” Russell said, putting all his weight on the wrench—and finally, I saw the last lug nut grudgingly turn. “Okay,” he said, smiling up at me. “According to the video, now we jack up the car.”
“I’ll get it,” I said as I hurried to the trunk. I was doing the math in my head—if we could get the tire on and get on the road, maybe we could get there in time. I had just reached for the jack when my phone started to ring. It was “Fun, Fun, Fun”—my dad’s ringtone. “Fuck,” I muttered as I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. My heart was pounding as I slid my finger across the screen. “Hi, Dad! I’m just driving,” I said quickly, knowing he’d be able to hear the sound of the cars. “Near home. Good old 134.” My voice was too high and shrill, and I had a feeling he’d be able to tell something was wrong.
Russell glanced over at me, his eyes going wide, and I knew he’d just had the same thought I had—that I was in trouble.
“Darcy,” my dad said. “So—”
“Are you home?” I asked, my words tumbling out. “I mean, where are you?” There might still be a chance we could make it back—unless he was already there, in which case, there was no chance and I was screwed.
“No, that’s the thing.” I straightened up, clocking his tone. I wasn’t in trouble, I could tell that much. But something else was happening.
“What’s wrong?”
“So I got on the road this morning, and hadn’t gone far before the check-engine light went on.”
“So you left late?” I held my phone away from my ear for a moment to see the time, trying to do the calculations.
“I’m still at Uncle Jeff’s.” My dad’s voice was resigned. “I can’t get the car into a shop until tomorrow morning.”
I felt an immediate, giddy surge of happiness. I’d get away with this! My dad wouldn’t have to know about the fact that I was currently on the side of the highway with a flat, that I’d still not made it back, that I’d almost gotten arrested. At least, he wouldn’t have to know about any of it right now. I was pretty sure I was going to have to tell him at some point, but that day would not have to be today. Relief washed over me like a cool wave. I could stop panicking. I could stop doing the time math. I was home free.
But then a second later, with a crash of disappointment, I realized what this actually meant.
“So you’re not—coming home tonight.”
“I’m so sorry, honey,” my dad said, and I could hear in his voice that he really was. “I asked your uncle if I could use his car, but he needs it for work. And—”
“It’s fine,” I said quickly, trying to ignore the pit that felt like it had just formed in my stomach. “Really. I can get myself to the airport. I’ll get an Uber. It’s not a big deal.”
Russell straightened up, his eyes on me, giving me a sympathetic wince.
“It is, though,” my dad said, and I could hear how frustrated he was. “We had our whole plan—pizza and milkshakes and then short-term parking and the discreet corner where I’d sob while you went off to start your life without me.”
“I know we did.” In all my worry about my dad getting home before me, I’d never once entertained the thought that he wouldn’t be there. I had wanted to get away with this—I’d wanted there to be some way I’d get home before my dad, undetected. And now I was getting my wish, but in a terrible monkey’s-paw way. I took a few steps away and rubbed my sandal over the crumbling asphalt.
“I’m so sorry, kiddo.”
“It’s not your fault.” Mechanical problems happened, after all. Mechanical problems were the whole reason I was standing here right now, and the whole reason Russell and I had even met in the first place.
