Page 30 of Jaded

Nat

“Okay,butwearegetting Chipotle though, right?” Syd doesn’t look up from the screen of her phone. One of her legging-clad knees curls up against her chest, so her Converse rests on the Chevy’s dash.

“Yeah, when we get back into town.” I lean over the center console to swat at her foot, so she huffs and drags it back down to the floor. “You know there’s no Chipotle out here.”

There’s not much ofanythingout here, to be perfectly frank. It’s barren desert land—rolling plains broken only by low mesas and the occasional red-rock butte. All of it tufted with grey-green scrub grass.

Not that much of it’s visible in the gathering darkness.

“Could’ve got it first,” Syd grumbles, her gaze still fixed on her phone. “I’m hungry.”

“Did you eat after practice?”

“No.” Her gaze slants towards me. “Someone didn’t buy yogurt.”

“My God, Syd! It wasn’t on the list.”

She finally cracks a smile. “You’re supposed to justknowthese things, Dad. Like, isn’t that some kind of special parent sixth sense?”

“Youryogurt preferences?” If I could see my own face, I’d bet my expression is a tangle of bewildered lines. “No, I don’t think so. Not young, single dads anyway. Maybe that’s like a traditional middle-aged parent thing.”

“I mean.” the corner of Syd’s eye slips towards me. “You’re kinda close to middle-aged.”

“That’s not very nice, Sydney.” I give her a mock warning glare, catch the faint curve of a smirk on her profile. “After all I’ve done for you.”

“You didn’t even buy me yogurt.” She huffs an overly dramatic sigh,tsks. “I think that counts as abuse?”

I shove my palm against her shoulder, nudging her sideways into the door. “It does not.”

“Definitely abuse!” Syd chirps, laughing. “Violence against a minor!”

I chuckle, return my hand to the wheel. “What a wimp! How do you handle playing boys’ high school hockey?”

“I’m very tough.” Syd sniffs, which, okay. That’s fair. I’ve seen the girl go down on the ice with a broken wrist and try to get back up and skate. She made it three shifts, actually, before her coach physically dragged her off.

She definitely inherited more than her looks from me. Still, I can’t tell her that. “You seem like kind of a weenie.”

“And you seem like ameanie.”

Which obviously makes us both break down into giggles, wipe tears out of our eyes. For all that I might be a thirty-five-year-old parent, I’m not really that mature.

Syd half lifts her leg, like she’s about to put it back up on the dash and thinks twice. Smart kid. “So, how far out is this car anyway?”

“About an hour.” I peer through the evening dark to the desert around the tow truck, like that might help me determine our location. “Why, you got somewhere to be?”

“Well, if I have to wait to get back into town to eat anyway . . .” another sideways glare aimed in my direction. “I might meet Avery . . .”

I bite back on a groan. “Instead of dining with your old man? But I’m offering youfreeChipotle.”

“But I’m also making a hundred bucks for driving this car back. That’s a lot of Chipotle.”

“Syd . . .” My hands grip tighter on the wheel, knuckles whitening. My voice goes nearly as tight as my hands on that wheel. “I don’t ask you to run these cars with me ’cause I’m trying to feed your boyfriend.”

“No? But he’s hungry.” Syd’s long black ponytail drapes sideways over her shoulder as she cocks her head. She must read the tension in my voice. “Why do you do it, then?”

“’Cause I don’t want to pay someone else money that could go toyourfuture.” The words tumble out to hang in the space between us.

I’ve told her before I’ve been saving, putting money aside to help her get out of this town.

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