HIDDEN CREEK THEN: a hidden creek high novel Page 3

  “Tell you what, Julia,” Whitney said. “If I ever feel used, I’ll walk out. I’ll give a big speech and then ball up my apron and throw it in your face.”

  “Will you call me a bitch?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Nothing meaner though.”

  “Not even a rotten bitch?”

  “That’s where we draw the line then,” I said.

  “Deal. Now go out front and be near other humans and let me dork this place up.”

  I couldn’t figure her out. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Dark tan. Beautiful.

  And she was fine working at the bakery with me.

  “You know what,” I said. “I’m going to leave.”

  “Leave?”

  “Yeah. Forget the numbers today, Whitney. You handle the bakery. I’m going to handle… something.”

  Whitney put her apron back on. “I like that even better. I’ll figure out the numbers tomorrow.”

  “Am I a bitch for leaving you here alone?”

  “Are you going to the beach?” Whitney asked.

  “Duh,” I said.

  “Then, yeah, you are a bitch.”

  “But am I a rotten bitch?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” Whitney said with a wink.

  I laughed and shook my head.

  I needed to get the hell out of the bakery.

  Maybe I needed to get the hell out of the town of Hidden too.

  * * *

  The music was loud. The windows were down.

  I had my favorite sunglasses on my face.

  My hair whipped around the front seat of the car.

  The sun was shining.

  The sky was blue.

  And I was just about to belt out the highest note of the song playing…

  When my car stopped running.

  “No, no, no, no,” I said over and over as I struggled to pull to the side of the road.

  I felt like I was in the middle of nowhere.

  The car came to its final stop on the side of the road and I held the wheel as though the car was magically going to wake up.

  I got out of the car and slammed the door.

  I kicked the door.

  “Asshole!” I yelled.

  Then I ripped open the door and pulled the lever to open the hood.

  Only the gas door shot open.

  I growled, realizing I had grabbed the wrong lever.

  I popped and then opened the hood.

  As I stared down at the engine and all the other parts that made up what was under the hood of the car, I had no idea what I was looking at. Or what I was doing.

  It wasn’t like the broken part of the car was going to turn a bright color so I knew what was wrong. And even then… I wasn’t a mechanic. I couldn’t just fix a car on the side of the road.

  I would have been lucky enough to change a flat tire.

  And for the hell of it, I walked around the car and checked all the tires.

  They were inflated.

  Of course they were.

  I leaned against the car and lowered my head.

  I opened the car door again and reached for my cigarettes and my phone.

  The whole starting smoking for a week thing came and went.

  I lit a cigarette and looked at my phone.

  There was someone I could call.

  I mean, there were a lot of people I could call.

  An actual towing company for starters. But that would take time. Money. And then the cost of getting the car fixed.

  But if I just…

  I shut my eyes and touched the screen.

  I put the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?” Jett’s voice growled with a tone that rippled through my entire body.

  “Hey,” I said. “It’s me. It’s…”

  “Julia?” Jett asked.

  I fought the urge to smile. “Yeah. I’m kind of broken down on the side of the road.”

  “What happened?” Jett asked.

  “Gee, let me check. The gearshift got stuck in the carburetor and the intake manifold is clogged with the eighty-nine-fifty-seven-up-your-ass-filter.”

  There was silence.

  I waited a few seconds.

  “Jett?” I asked.

  “You done?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “I’m surprised you knew the parts you did,” he said. “Not bad.”

  “I guess it’s not so easy to forget everything from the past, is it?” I asked, knowing it was a bold question.

  Jett was silent again.

  I waited this time, refusing to ask if he was still there.

  When he spoke, it was one quick sentence.

  “Text me where you are.”

  * * *

  Jett climbed out of the tow truck and ran a hand through his hair.

  He stopped for a second and looked right at me.

  Damn. He was almost looking through me.

  The same look he had given me so many years ago.

  It never changed.

  His jaw looked tighter, stronger, cast with more steel than when I first met him. Scruff that he sometimes grew and sometimes he would shave it all off.

  But it was always Jett.

  The big, tough guy who used to have longer hair, a really fast, really loud motorcycle, and wasn’t afraid to fight anyone at any time.

  And it wasn’t like we had spent a lifetime apart (or even together)…

  We weren’t that old.

  But we sure as hell weren’t young anymore either.

  I knew when he looked at me he saw me in a wedding dress, marrying another man. He heard vows I recited that were said just for the facade of a wedding ceremony. Words he never heard. Words that I never dug through my heart to find.

  And yet it was kind of weird how I stood at an altar, telling myself this was the only way to really let go of the past, saying whatever needed to be said so pictures could be taken and so there would be proof that I did learn to move on… and as Jett approached me, lighting up a cigarette, I found myself not sure how to find a deep breath.

  Or a single word.

  My bottom lip moved and I stupidly pointed at the car.

  “When are you going to get rid of this thing?” he asked me.

  “When I hit the lottery,” I said. “Or maybe when Aira moves out and I can save up money… like I used to have.”

  Jett grinned. “You know, I never understood how her parents just dropped her off and took off.”

  “I picked her up,” I said. “And if you’re wondering about them giving me money, I don’t take that kind of money.”

  Jett laughed. “I think we’re well aware of that, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart.

  I curled my lip.

  “Can you just take a look, please?” I asked. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I really can’t afford a tow… and repairs…”

  “So this is all for free now?” Jett asked. “You don’t take that kind of money but you’ll take this kind of handout, huh?”

  “Look, if you want to rip me apart, pick a time and a place. Right now, just tell me if I’m fucked or not.”

  “Who’s running the bakery?” Jett asked. “Did you hand the keys over to Aira?”

  “Why? So her and goddamn Weslee could treat it like a funhouse?”

  “What’s wrong with Wes?” Jett asked.

  I snorted. “That’s a good one.”

  “What? You know, he was just fine until Aira came back.”

  I put my hands on my hips and lifted my left eyebrow. “Are we really going to do this right now?”

  Jett gritted his teeth.

  He put his head back and took one big drag of his cigarette.

  That wasn’t going to impress me.

  Just to be sure, I turned my head.

  “Does it have gas?”

  “What?”

  “The car. Does it have gas?”

  “Of course it does,” I said. “What kind of idiot runs out of gas and thinks they broke down
?”

  “Everything else is working, right?” Jett asked.

  “So what?”

  “When you broke down, what happened?”

  “The car stopped.”

  “Was it hard to steer?”

  “I don’t know. Yes. Maybe.”

  “Hard to brake?”

  “Jett, the fucking car stopped running. The engine died. I coasted to the side of the road.”

  “And you called me,” Jett said.

  “My hero,” I said.

  Jett walked back to the tow truck.

  He returned with a red gas can.

  “Jett…”

  “Let me try something,” he said. “For the hell of it.”

  I looked at the dashboard of the car. The needle was at half a tank of gas. The same as it… was…

  “What’s today?” I asked Jett.

  Jett ignored me.

  He poured gas into the tank.

  I felt my cheeks turning red already.

  When the red container was emptied out, I looked at the needle again.

  It hadn’t moved.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  “Start the car, Julia,” Jett said.

  “No.”

  He shook his head. “Stubborn.”

  “You want me to start the car? Fine. I will. Watch…” I jumped into the car and turned the key. The engine kicked over after a few seconds. “There. It was fucking out of gas! How about that.” I got back out of the car. “Look at me, Jett! The idiot who ran out of gas. Because the fucking gas gauge is broken. And I always put gas in on Monday. But this past Monday I had a problem at the bakery and I fucking forgot. Okay? I’m an idiot. You’re my savior. So go back to the shop and tell everyone how stupid fucking Julia ran out of gas on the only day she’s had off in I don’t how fucking long. Okay? Can you do that? Can you-”

  Jett touched my cheek with his left hand.

  It was instant silence.

  His dark eyes destroyed my green eyes.

  “Just say thanks,” he said. “And you should have told me about the gas gauge. I’m sure I can get that fixed.”

  I licked my lips. “Yeah. Right. Thanks. I appreciate you coming out here.”

  “We’ll make those plans soon.”

  “What plans?” I asked.

  “You said we can make plans for me to rip you apart,” he said. “I’d like that. I think it’s time.”

  “Time? You think it’s time? Oh really?”

  Jett grabbed the empty gas can off the ground. “I didn’t run off and get married, Julia.”

  “Oh. Fuck you, Jett. You know what? Come suck the gas out of my car and leave. Better yet, drink the gas. Since you’re such a fucking tough guy. Fuck you.”

  I got into my car and slammed the door.

  I looked in the mirror and he was still standing there.

  I grabbed the wheel and told myself to peel away.

  But I didn’t.

  He was right.

  We both owed each other a long conversation.

  And enough time had passed.

  I stuck my head out of the window and bit my bottom lip.

  Fuck. He made me feel like a teenager again.

  “I’ll let you know,” I said to him.

  Jett nodded. “You might want to hit a gas station too. Fill up the tank. Unless you want me to come save you again.”

  I looked forward and stuck my left hand out of the window, showing him my middle finger.

  I peeled away.

  I looked in the mirror and saw him just standing there.

  “Next time, Jett… I’ll just fucking stay stranded.”

  Chapter 6

  NOW

  Jett

  The first time Julia ran out of gas was a week after she got her own car. Her first car, actually. It seemed like such an obvious thing - put gas in the car. But Julia… she was just Julia. Sometimes she was completely grounded and focused. Other times, she danced from cloud to cloud, finding a way to make a game out of life when there was no game. That’s what made her so… perfect?

  No.

  Julia.

  She called crying her eyes out that she was alone, scared, and out of gas.

  I told her to just stay put and I was on my way.

  She asked me to stay on the phone and talk to her.

  She was nervous about it becoming dark and something happening. She felt that monsters and killers had a knack for tracking down cars without gas. Which made sense. Easy targets. When I told her that, she called me a bad name and said it wasn’t funny.

  I stayed on the phone with her that night as I drove to her.

  She was thirty minutes away, trying to get to a spot near the beach where there were rocks. It was a full moon and she had the idea of sitting there and watching the moon. Which being near the ocean, it wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Her only mess up was assuming I didn’t want to be there.

  I crashed her solo party with a few gallons of fresh gas.

  On the phone, we talked about everything and nothing. What we ate that day. What we dreamed about the night before. What we thought fifty years into the future would look like. If the full moon really did make people act differently or not.

  And then I was there.

  I parked, dumped the gas into her car, and I started it for her.

  When I opened my arms, she jumped into them and was actually scared.

  She was shaking.

  I laughed and then felt like a jerk for laughing at her.

  I told her give me a second and I called Scotty to tell him I wouldn’t be making it to the fights and the party that night.

  And I sat with Julia on the rocks next to the ocean and we watched the full moon together.

  It was completely lame for my image at the time, but it was one of those nights that just stuck with me for the rest of my life.

  It was a good memory to mess around with as I drove back to the shop.

  Because I had been dumb enough to talk about Julia’s marriage without hesitation.

  Part of me thought why the fuck not? and part of me thought you’re a dumbass, Jett.

  I parked the truck and jumped out.

  Pop stood outside, leaning against the building, staring right at me.

  “What happened?” he called out.

  “Just a gas run,” I said. “Nothing special.”

  “Gas?”

  “Yeah. The stuff you put in a car to make it run.”

  “Smart ass,” Pop said.

  “What are you doing out here? You lose signal on your TV again?”

  “Heard you left in a hurry,” Pop said.

  “Were you worried about me?” I asked. “I told you you were going senile. Getting all emotional now.”

  Pop lifted an aged fist but it was probably still like a wrecking ball if it came swinging at your face.

  “Everyone okay?”

  I paused and looked at Pop again. “What’s it to you?”

  “Just been busy around here lately,” Pop said.

  “Julia ran out of gas,” I said. “That’s what it was. She thought her car broke down. But it wasn’t.”

  Pop half grinned.

  “Don’t give me that shit either,” I said.

  “I didn’t say a damn word, Jett,” Pop said. He slowly turned and opened the office door and stepped inside. He stopped and looked back. “You know, you certainly act as stubborn as if you were one of my sons.”

  “Meaning what?” I asked.

  Pop winced as he turned again to face me. “Smarten up. I’ve known you for how long, Jett? You fell in love with that girl something wicked. And, what, things didn’t happen the way you wanted? Welcome to life, Jett. You think I wanted to be some miserable old man sitting on land that drives everyone crazy?”

  “Actually… I do think that.”

  “Well, you’re right,” Pop said. He laughed. “I followed my path though for that. Remember that.”

  “Julia isn’t a piece of land.” />
  “But I bet she’s worth the same to you.”

  Pop nodded.

  I wasn’t sure what the comment was supposed to mean.

  But it pissed me off.

  Then again, Pop always pissed me off.

  * * *

  I grabbed a dirty rag off the bench and rolled it up tight.

  I cracked it perfectly so the tip smacked exposed skin on Wes’s arm.

  “Shit!” he yelled as he jumped off the workbench, tossing his phone behind him.

  I threw the towel at his face and grabbed his phone.

  “Let’s see what we’ve got here,” I said. “Oh… look… text messages from Aira. Oh, Wes, I love you.” I said that in a high pitched voice. Then I lowered my voice. “Uh, yeah, girlfriend, I love you so much too…”

  I tossed Wes’s phone back at him.

  Next to him, Elijah laughed.

  I snapped my fingers and pointed. “You’re one to talk, right?”

  Elijah showed his hands. “Hey. I’m just living life right now.”

  “Going to Tech?” I asked.

  “Of course. I’ll finish up there.”

  “Good,” I said. “Don’t make me smash your two heads together. Imagine how loud that hollow sound would be.”

  “You know, Jett, you used to be really cool,” Wes said.

  I stepped toward Wes and stared him down.

  “And you used to run around with your underwear on your head,” I said.

  “Maybe I still do that,” he said.

  “Aira’s into that kind of thing,” Elijah said.

  “Shut up, Elijah,” Wes said. “Don’t get me started about Nova. There was a long time when you weren’t here. And there was a time when I was single. And you know how I feel about girls who can surf…”

  I whistled and backed up. “That sounds like a typical Hidden Creek High bullshit rumor.”

  Elijah’s face twisted with anger.

  This was half my day. Managing these two fools. Hot headed teenagers-slash-adults.

  “If I hit Wes, do I get fired?” Elijah asked.

  “I wouldn’t fire you,” I said. “But Pop probably would.”

  “That’s okay,” Wes said. “You can hit me. Doubt it’ll do much. I’ve seen you fight before.”

  “You two are cute,” I said. I grabbed their shoulders and shook them. “But let’s finish the work here. Sound good?”