Page 112 of Just for Fun
Nothing happens.
Frowning at the dashboard, I push on it again, hoping that the first time was a fluke. It wasn’t because this second time is not doing anything either.
“What the fuck,” I mumble.
I look around, but not sure what I should be checking. The key fob is in the cup holder, so that’s not an issue. I push on the button again, still nothing. In fact, it is absolutely dead. There’s not even a light coming on.
Worried that I will be late, I check the time on my phone. I have fifteen minutes to get the truck going. Anything past that will cause me to be either late, or too close for comfort. It would be really ironic if on the one day I want to tell Zara that I love her, I can’t make it to her in time.
I push on the start button again, more forcefully this time, but nothing happens. There’s nothing I would know how to fix on this. I don’t even have a vague idea about how to fix a truck. But I know someone who does.
“Ray!” I yell his name into the phone when he answers. He owns an auto shop along with a towing company. “I need your help!”
“Somebody die?” he asks, making me laugh.
“Yes, man. My truck. It won’t start.”
“Oh, what’s it doing?”
I sigh. “Literally nothing. I push the start button, but it won’t start.”
“You got gas in it?” Ray speaks slowly, like I’m a little kid. He knows I’m clueless about cars. It’s not very manly. I need to hang around Ray a little more.
“I filled it up this morning,” I confirm, not offended that he even had to ask.
“Any alerts on the dashboard?”
“There are zero lights on the dashboard.” I can hear the panic in my tone.
“None?” He sounds skeptical.
“Nothing at all, man. I’m freaking out. I need to be at Zara’s by seven. I can’t be late!”
My friends have gotten to know Zara by now, and they all love her. The first time the girls invited her to go to lunch with them, I explained to them how important it was that they wouldn’t be late. They all followed through, no questions asked then or after. They’ve been making an effort ever since, and I know that Zara is appreciating that.
“I sounds like your battery is dead, man,” Ray tells me. “Do you know how to change it?”
I snort. “What do you think, Ray? No, I don’t fucking know how to change the battery. I know how to draw a battery, and Ican put a battery in a badass imaginary car. But in real life, no, I don’t know how to change a battery.”
Ray busts out laughing, but I don’t take it personally. Out of all the guys in our group, I am most likely the one you wouldn’t want to call if you had any questions about fixing cars or power horses, unless they’re in a video game. I rock at that shit.
“I need to call for an Uber,” I now tell Ray. “Can you get me someone to come to the house with a battery?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Thanks, man, I gotta call for a car!”
I hang up and pull up the app for that. In doing a quick search, I see there are no cars available for the next thirty minutes.
“What the actual fuck!” I slam a hand against the wheel. I start calling everyone I know who could give me a ride to Zara’s house. But they are all either not answering the phone or are too far, which means they wouldn’t make it in time, no matter how hard I tried.
Sweat breaks down my back. Out of all the days that I could be late, why does today have to be the one? I’ve been doing so well, too. I did cut it close a few times, but I was never not even a minute late.
With a heavy sigh, I bring up Zara’s name on my phone and tap on it. Her voicemail picks up, and my anxiety goes up a notch. I hang up and call again, same result. By the third time, I have no choice but to leave a message.
“Zara, it’s Kyle. I’m so sorry, baby, but I will be late. My truck won’t start. Ray says I need a new battery, but I need to find someone to bring the battery to me, then put it in. I tried getting an Uber, there are not fucking cars available until later. I’m so sorry. Please call me. I’m sorry. I…”
I almost end it withI love you, because it feels so natural now that I made up my mind to finally tell her. But it would be bad form to say that to her for the first time in a voicemail.
