Page 160 of Summer Love

But I have to.

“No,” I say. “We can’t.”

He doesn’t answer. He stares at the bus, the open hatch, the guts of the engine. His face says it all: he doesn’t get why I’m bringing this back up.

A screech of tires makes me jump. A white truck pulls up next to the bus. Luke climbs out, slams the door, and comes toward us, a canvas bag over his shoulder.

He smiles at me, leans in, and pulls me against him for a second. His curls smell like basil and coffee.

“You okay?”

He raises an eyebrow. His eyes go back and forth between Jace and me.

“Yeah, just tired.”

Luke lets it go. He sets his bag down and turns to Jace.

“Okay. Show me the beast.”

Jace stands. They head to the back of the bus. Luke crouches, sticks his head into the engine compartment.

“So what’s the problem?”

“It stalls on startup. Three times this morning. And the engine coughs when it’s cold. Reeks of gas even when it’s not running.”

Luke grabs a flashlight from his bag, shines it on the open engine. He runs a finger along a line, pinches it, checks his hand.

“Your fuel line’s leaking.”

He wipes his fingers on his shorts, leans in further, checks something else.

“And the fuel pump’s starting to go.”

He straightens, brushes off his knees.

“You’re lucky it gave out here and not on the highway.”

Jace closes his eyes for a second, opens them again.

“How much?”

“The line’s no big deal, but don’t put it off. I’ve got one in the truck—I’ll swap it right now. The pump, you’ll have to order the part. For a bus like this, you can find one online, sixty, eighty bucks. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it. I’ll put it in this weekend.”

Jace exhales, caught between relief and frustration.

“Every time you fix this rolling piece of junk, I wonder why you never opened your own shop.”

Luke shrugs. His gold chain bounces against his chest.

“I would’ve liked to.”

He leans back toward the engine, starts unscrewing something.

“But somebody’s got to keep the Market running. That store is my parents’ whole life. They still come in to help out, but they’re getting old. My mom’s back hurts. My dad’s tired. And Chiara leaves for UC Santa Cruz in the fall.”

“That’s good for her,” Jace says.

“Yeah. It’s great.”