Page 101 of Kiss Collector
He frowns at Joel. “You socializing on the clock?”
“No, sir. She...”
I swallow to wet my throat. “I need, uh, windshield wipers.”
Mr. Ruddick looks at Joel. “Well, get the girl some wipers!” he shouts, making me jump. He glowers at Joel and turns to go back into the mechanic area. Another guy comes in, a young mechanic, and he shuffles through some papers on the counter.
Joel sighs, looking ashamed or embarrassed or maybe both. “Can I call you when I get off?”
“Okay,” I whisper, shaken to see how his dad treats him. “Do you get a lunch break?”
“Not really,” he says tightly.
“Hey,” says the guy next to him, “my next car’s not for another half hour. Go outside and talk. I’ll cover you.”
Joel hesitates, glancing toward where his dad went.
“Yeah, okay.”
Joel turns his hat around backward and comes out. We walk around the side of the building, and my heart starts jumping like I did a bunch of burpees. He shoves his hands in his pockets as I cross my arms. I almost laugh. Are we strangers now? How do I bridge the gap that this year apart has caused?
“You gave me freedom,” I say. “Thank you. It was an amazing year.”
His jaw tightens as he nods. He won’t look straight at me. He’s nervous.
“But you know what the best part was?” I ask.
“No drinking age?”
“No.” I poke his taut tummy and he reluctantly grins. “Your poems.”
Again, he looks away, and it makes my stomach tighten. I’m starting to get nervous.
“Are you done with me, Joel?”
His hands go deeper in his pockets and his elbows lock. He looks guarded, vulnerable even. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel when you got back. About us.”
I tone down my frustration and move even closer, inches away, talking softly, taking his uniform shirt gently between my fingers.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, Joel Ruddick, where would you go?”
His lip quirks up like I’m crazy. I tilt my head, waiting.
“Zae. Come on. I gotta get back in there.”
“Just answer, and then I’ll leave you alone.”
He huffs out a breath and stares off at the building next to us. “I don’t know. A big city, I guess. Somewhere I can get lost in the shuffle. Somewhere musicians camp out on corners playing and you can just stop to listen. Like New Orleans or New York. London, Dublin, Amsterdam, shit, anywhere but here.”
I can’t help but smile. It’s such a Joel answer.
“Let me take you.”
“Stop.” He shakes his head. I reach for his hands and he stiffens a little, but lets me hold them.
“I did a phone interview yesterday,” I tell him, “to be a flight attendant. They’re flying me to Houston tomorrow for a second interview. The airline’s second hub is in DC, so I’ll most likely be stationed here.” I start talking faster as I see his lips press together. “I would do international flights, like four days away, then two or three days off at a time. Latin America and Canada to start. Then Europe. We can hang out on my days off, and a few times a year we can go where we want! We’ll have to stay in hostels and stuff until we save some money, but we can get away from here together.”
His grip on my hand tightens as his gaze drops to the side, downward.
