Page 9 of Hot Summer Nights

“I don’t know how you know what each of these things does. Cars always seemed so confusing to me.”

“Nah,” he says, finally standing back up. “They’re all pretty much the same. Same pieces, same concept that makes them work. That’s why I like them. They’re easy to figure out once you know what you’re doing.”

He sets his wrench down and picks up a tiny metal piece before he ducks back under the hood.

“When did you get into cars?” I ask when he comes back up.

“In high school. I loved shop class, but my dad was always into cars and I probably learned more from him over the years than that class.”

“Was he a mechanic too?”

“No, he was a psychiatrist.”

He grabs his wrench again and I watch as he screws a bolt back into place.

“Are you from Destiny Falls?”

“No, I moved up here right after I graduated. We used to come by here on family vacations and I always loved the area. When I found out that the old owner of this mechanic shop was retiring, I jumped at the chance to buy it from him.”

“So you’ve been here for like eight years then?”

I would guess that he’s not quite thirty yet.

He nods. “Yeah, around there, I guess.”

I get the feeling that if it’s not cars, he doesn’t really want to talk about it. Unfortunately, I know next to nothing about cars.

“What about you?” he asks and I blink at him.

“What about me?”

“Where are you from?”

“Originally, Howell, Michigan, but we moved to Grand Rapids when I was like four and that’s where I grew up.”

“Did you like it?”

I pause.

Did I like it?

The town was fine, there was always something to do, but I wasn’t happy. I think that had more to do with my family than the city though. I mean, can anyone who’s cursed really be happy?

He’s still watching me and I swallow.

“It was fine. I didn’t love the traffic, but there was lots to do and see.”

He nods, but I get the feeling that he can see more than I said.

“Did you get that from your dad? That dissecting look?” I blurt out and to my surprise, he cracks a smile.

His whole face lights up and I rock back on my heels as his bright eyes land on me.

“I suppose. Not a lot got past him. He was good at seeing more than surface-level things.”

“Sounds like a good psychiatrist then. Or a good police detective,” I try to joke and he grins.

“Yeah, he was. He retired a few years ago and now he and my mom travel a lot.”

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