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“How about a new car?” The smoke billows from the engine as she walks over with a fire extinguisher.
She opens up the hood of the car to spray it with white foam. “You should really have one of these in your car at all times.”
“Thanks, Samantha,” I say.
“Let me call someone. Hold on.”
“No, that’s not necessary—” She puts up a finger to her mouth to silence me and sets down the extinguisher. I watch as she walks to her car and grabs her phone, calling someone.
Within five minutes, a car pulls up behind Samantha and of course it’s Elizabeth. I want to hide in a shell or under a rock and never come out. Is Elizabeth Superwoman?
Elizabeth walks up to my car with her sleeves rolled up and her hair in a high ponytail. Her confidence is doing something to me I’d never thought I’d say.
“So, you hear I’m a mechanic and, instead of asking me to be your friend, you try to total your car instead?” she says. Samantha laughs before giving her a quick peck on the lips.
“Shit, what did you do to this poor Hyundai?”
“I drove it from California to Minnesota with my snake in the front seat.”
Elizabeth arches a brow. “Badass.” She walks over to the open hood and sees the remnants of the fire and foam lingering in the engine. “You’re gonna need a tow.”
I guess I’m done with classes today.
“What body shop do you recommend I take it to?” Ugh, this will be an embarrassing conversation to have with Dad. Good thing he’s loaded now…
“My house, of course,” Elizabeth says.
“You have a house? I mean, you live nearby? I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Honey, I’m not a dorm student kind of gal. I got a place ten minutes past old town. Call that tow and I’ll lead you there.”
She is Superwoman.
“I’ll be asking you to pay for the supplies, but I’ll do the labor. It’s good practice. I just got a job working as a technician at a local shop, but I only work weekends. I’m getting rusty,” she adds. She still looks at me with that hint of pity I can’t quite place. Maybe she knows what it feels like to have your identity slandered across campus by an asshole. Doubt it, but there are a lot of them out there.
I call a tow, then I call Dad. I tell him about the car crapping out and how a friend has offered to help if I can pay for the supplies. He says he will help pay since I made the drive in the old car a couple of months ago and need transportation to school.
I’ll have to make it up to him eventually.
When the tow truck arrives, Elizabeth tells him where to take the car. I hop into the truck and the two girls follow me back to Elizabeth’s address.
The truck backs my car up into the cracked driveway of a run-down cottage. The house looks like she pays for it herself. Shit. I can’t let her do this for free.
Samantha and Elizabeth thank the driver as they get out of their separate cars.
“Elizabeth, I really need to pay you.”
“Why?” she says, opening the garage door connected to the house. “Because my house is shitty? If it makes you feel better, I got it from my grandmother and don’t pay a dime.”
I follow behind the pair into the house through the garage. The inside is cute and quaintly decorated. “I had to get rid of the old lady shit everywhere when she died, but yeah, it’s all mine.”
Samantha meanders to the couch in the modest living room and kicks her feet up on the wooden coffee table.
“If you have places to be or something, please don’t let me interfere. I can uber home or something.”
“Oh, shush, go join Samantha on the couch. I’ll start diagnosing your car, then I’ll show you what parts we need.” She grabs a pack of pop tarts from the kitchen and walks back into the garage. I can’t help but feel stiff and uncomfortable with how quickly everything happened.
I sit next to Samantha on the couch, sitting as far away from her as possible and scroll on my phone.
