Page 35 of The Summer We Played Pretend

"You gonna get that?" Dad asks, glancing up from the engine.

I shake my head, probably too quickly. "Nah, it's nothing important."

Dad gives me a look that says he doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push. Instead, he hands me the welding torch. "Alright then, we need to seal up that fuel tank next. I’ve just got to finish cleaning…” Dad pauses. “Where did I put the degreaser…?” He holds up a hand. You get set up, I’ll be back in a sec.”

"Yeah," I say, vaguely, trying to think about what I’m going to say to Chloe when I text her and start setting up my welding gear. I pull down the welding mask and flick on the torch, the blue flame springing to life.

As I start welding, my mind drifts back to the beach, to Chloe's lips on mine, soft and hesitant. The smell of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin...

"Jackson, wait!" Dad's voice cuts through my daydream, but it's too late.

A bright flash erupts in front of me, followed by intense heat. Pain sears through my hand. I stumble back, dropping the torch as flames leap from the engine.

"Shit!" Cradling my burned hand against my chest, the acrid smell of burning diesel fills the air, making me cough.

Dad's already in motion and I grab the fire extinguisher from him, directing it at the flames. In seconds, the fire is out, leaving behind a hissing, smoking engine and the bitter taste of failure in my mouth.

"What the hell happened?" I gasp, still reeling from the shock.

“Shit, Jackson, you weren’t meant to start yet.” Dad's brow is creased. "I hadn't finished cleaning the engine exterior. There must have been residual fuel..." He trails off, his eyes fixed on my injured hand. "We’re lucky the whole shop didn’t go up in flames.” His expression softens as he glances at my hand. “Let me see that."

As he gently examines my burn, I wince as I reveal angry red blisters already forming across my palm and fingers. The pain throbs down my arm.

"This looks bad, son," Dad says, his brow furrowed. "We need to get you to the ER."

"It's fine," I protest weakly, even as another wave of pain shoots up my arm. "Nothing a little ice won't fix."

Dad shakes his head, already reaching for his keys. "No arguments, Jackson. This needs proper medical attention."

I sigh, knowing he’s right.

"All right," I concede, cradling my injured hand close to my chest. "But I'm driving."

Dad snorts, a hint of a smile breaking through his concern. "Not a chance. You just focus on keeping that hand elevated."

The pain in my hand doesn’t get any better as we drive in silence to the hospital. I can’t believe what an idiot I was. The only injury I’ve ever suffered at the shop was because I dropped a tool on my toe, and that was a year ago. I know I’m lucky this wasn’t more than a burned hand. The whole place could have gone up in flames with me and my dad in it.

The ER waiting room buzzes with muted conversations and the occasional ping of a cell phone. I slump in the hard plastic chair, my injured hand throbbing as Dad talks to someone at the front desk. The smell of antiseptic burns my nostrils, mixing unpleasantly with the lingering scent of smoke on my clothes.

Dad shifts beside me, clearing his throat. "So, uh, you wanna tell me what's been going on with you lately? It’s not like you to make a mistake like that.”

I wince, and not just from the pain. "It's nothing, Dad.”

"Uh-huh," he says, unconvinced. "So this doesn’t have anything to do with Chloe?"

I snap my gaze up at him. "What? How did you—"

"I'm your father, Jackson. I notice things." He leans back, his voice softening. "Plus, you've been staring at your phone like it might bite you all day."

I let out a long breath, deflating. "We...we kissed. At the beach."

"Ah," Dad nods, a knowing look in his eyes. "And I'm guessing it didn't go as planned?"

"I don't know," I admit, the words tumbling out. "It was amazing, but then she looked so...uncertain.” I grimace. “I’m older than her. I have a responsibility to keep her safe but I think I scared her.”

“Did she consent to the kiss?”

“Yeah, in a manner of speaking.”

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