I stepped inside, inhaling the familiar scent of oil and rubber. Most people hated that smell, but I loved it. It brought back so many memories.
I craned my neck around, looking for familiar floppy brown hair, but he wasn’t to be seen.
And then, there he was.
He came out from the back office, wiping down a piece of metal with a red rag.
When he looked up he saw me and a grin that matched my own lit his face.
Barreling forward I ran into his arms.
He caught me immediately and spun me around.
“Dean,” I breathed against his neck, hugging him tight.
I’d missed him so much.
Dean Wentworth was my best friend.
We’d grown up together—his dad was the cousin of the guitar player in my dad’s band—and he was one of the few people I could turn to with anything. His parents might not have been famous, but they had a lot of money, so he could relate to many of the same things I went through. I was also close with his younger sister, Grace, but my connection to Dean was stronger.
Sometimes there were people that just got each other, and that’s how it was with us.
Setting me down he placed the piece of metal on a nearby worktable and tucked the rag in the back pocket of his jeans before crossing his arms over his chest.
“Willow Wade in the flesh.” He looked me up and down. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“It’s been a while,” I conceded.
I hadn’t seen Dean since New Year’s when I’d attended his family’s annual party. It was kind of a big deal and not to be missed.
I hadn’t talked to him much there because his girlfriend had been with him.
She was an insufferable bitch that I wanted to gag and toss over a bridge into a lake.
He could do so much better.
“How’s Brooklyn?” I sneered her name.
I’d tried to be nice to her when they first started dating last summer, but she made her distaste of me obvious—I was too loud, too crazy, and far too opinionated for her.
“Wouldn’t know. We broke up in February.”
I clucked my tongue. “You got her the wrong chocolate for Valentine’s day, didn’t you?”
He laughed fully at that. “Probably. We just weren’t a good match. She kept trying to hide my Pokémon cards and that wasn’t cool.”
By now the other mechanics were staring at us with interest. I recognized a few of them and waved.
“Come on,” Dean nodded towards the open garage door, “let’s head up to the apartment to talk.”
“You’re not going to get in trouble are you?”
“I know the owner.” He winked, referring to his dad.
My Chucks squeaked against the concrete floor as I followed Dean through the garage, outside, and around the side of the building to the set of stairs that led to the apartment above the shop. Dean was nearly two years older than me, and as soon as he graduated high school he’d moved in here and gotten his certificate to be a mechanic. He’d known from the time he was three and could hold a wrench that he wanted to be a mechanic like his dad. If only I was that lucky.
Dean swung the door open and waved me inside.
It looked much the way I remembered—muted gray walls, black leather furniture, and old-timey western and sci-fi movie posters on the wall.
“Thirsty?” Dean asked, already moving into the small kitchen.
I slid onto one of the red leather barstools and nodded.
He opened the fridge and seemed to be searching for something. Finally, he pulled out a glass bottle of Orange Crush soda.
“Ah!” I squealed, reaching out with grabby hands. “I can’t believe you still get these!”
“’Course,” he shrugged, unscrewing the cap on another and leaning across the counter towards me, “they’re your favorite.”
“I haven’t had one of these in forever.” I gulped greedily at it.
“They don’t have Orange Crush soda in New York City?” He questioned with a raised brow.
“I’m sure they do,” I relented, rubbing the condensation off the glass with my thumb, “but not in a glass bottle. Plus, I wouldn’t be able to have it with you. This is our thing.”
He grinned at that. “I’ve missed you, Will.”
“Bleh,” I gagged, “I wish that nickname would die already. I have a vagina, therefore I’m not a Will.”
He chuckled and leaned his head back, swallowing a large gulp of the soda. “I’ve missed you, Willow,” he amended.
“Much better.”
“I’ve got somethin’ else for you.” He began shuffling through a kitchen drawer. When he found whatever it was he was looking for he exclaimed, “Aha!”
He held the blue raspberry lollipop out for me with a crooked smile. “Been saving all of these for you.”
“My momma always told me not to take candy from a stranger,” I quipped, taking the lollipop anyway—there was no way I was passing up blue raspberry. It was my favorite.
“Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a stranger.” He winked.
I unwrapped the lollipop and stuck it in my mouth. “Mmm,” I hummed, “that’s good.”
He laughed and grabbed one for himself. Sour apple.
We grew quiet for a moment, and then he broke the silence. “This feels good. It feels like you never left.”
I sighed, looking down at the worn ends of my shoes. “I wish I’d never left,” I muttered.
“Is it really that bad?” He asked. “College, I mean.”
I pulled the lollipop from my mouth. “I don’t know whether it’s college or me.”
“Ah, I see.” He nodded.
“You know me,” I continued, “I hate being confined. I thought once I graduated high school I’d be free to wander the world and do what I wanted, but then I felt like I needed to go to school, and maybe it is what I need but it’s not what I want.”
“So…maybe you take next year off,” he suggested.
“But I don’t know if that’s what I want. That’s the problem. I’m so confused.”
“What’s something you do want?” The white end of the lollipop stuck out between his lips.
“Well,” I slid the barstool back and kicked my feet up on the counter, “I wanted to go on a road trip and my so-called friends bailed. Assholes.” I muttered the last part under my breath.
He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because you’re such a delight to hang out with twenty-four-seven.”
I stuck my now blue tongue out at him.
Sobering, he walked around and sat on the empty barstool beside me. “Why don’t we go on a road trip?”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Me and you?”
“Sure, why not?” He shrugged, crunching down on his lollipop and chewing the candy. “I mean, we’re friends, I just finished restoring my Mustang, and getting out of here for a little while wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.”
“Would your dad let you take off work for that long? My plan was to head south and then west all the way to California to visit Liam,” I said, referring to my cousin who was only a few months older than me and like a brother, “and then come back up the northern route.”
“My dad won’t care.” Dean shrugged, tossing the lollipop stick in the direction of the trashcan. It hit the edge and bounced off. Dean never had much aim. It was a good thing he stuck to fixing cars and playing music. I didn’t think he went anywhere without his guitar.
Excitement flooded my body, nearly bubbling over.
“Are you sure?” I asked him one last time.
“Positive.”
“We’re really going to do this?”
He nodded.
“Thank you!” I squealed, nearly falling to the floor in my haste to hug him.
“Whoa,” he grunted in surprise when my body collided into his. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me back.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I said a thousand more times before smacking a kiss against his stubbled cheek. “This is going to be epic.”
Before he could respond, I was out the door and down the steps.
I had a road trip to pack for.