Shift

“Ha

“I’m here for the intake manifold my boys sold to Earl?” I’ve used the right words; the question at the end is an added dose of sweetness.

“What’d Dustin do, cheat a bunch of fools out of cash on the Straights to buy it back?” He turns his back to me and moves toward the counter. I pull my lips in tight and swallow the defensive comebacks I’d like to say. Jim’s bent because he’s lost to Dustin a dozen times. He’s a shitty driver, but he refuses to see that.

“I’ll be using my own money, thank you.” I slap the cash on the counter as he turns around, unraveling the part from the plastic bag Dustin brought it in with. He sets the part down close to him and pulls my money into his permanently oil-accented hands.

“You’re short fifty.”

Bailey swallows hard enough that I can hear it over my shoulder. She’s not a fan of conflict. I’m impressed that Jim’s actually trying to pull one over on me like he does all the other clueless people who come into this joint.

“Yeah? You wa

“Shit, fine. Take it,” he mutters, cashing out the drawer. “Earl’s go

“Again,” I mutter under my breath. I raise my voice as I edge out the door with my prize. “Yeah, but you’re a good person and Earl’s a real asshole, Jim!”

I bless the boys with my swaying hips as I march back out of the garage, Bailey rushing along in my footsteps. We break into a major case of giggles when I leave the lot.

“That Jim guy really likes you, and yet really hates you,” Bailey observes, pulling her mirror back down to make sure she’s completely free of any signs that she’s a typical teenager.

“He hates the three of us—me, Tommy, and Dustin. Next time he’s there on a Friday, I’ll point his car out to you,” I say, noticing the familiar Toyota grill reflect back at me in my rearview mirror. My grin inches up.

“Hey, look behind us,” I say to my friend.

Bailey twists in her seat to confirm Dustin and Tommy are behind us. She waves and Dustin responds by flashing his headlights a few times and racing up dangerously close to my bumper. One touch of my brakes would really piss him off, but I would never do that to him. He must know I wouldn’t.

Bailey unbuckles her belt when we reach the neighborhood, crawling through the open window and hanging out enough to let her arms wave and hair blow in the wind as she howls. My brother does the same thing as the four of us cruise by the senior center on the corner of our street, catching more than a few sideways glances from the social club letting out.

I speed away from my brother and Dustin and continue down the road to drop Bailey off, helping her to comb out her hair before she exits the passenger seat. Her parents won’t let her drive yet, and part of me thinks she’ll have to move out before she gets her license.

By the time I get back to my driveway, Dustin’s car is already pulled in reverse with the hood popped open for the boys’ daily tune-up session. Sometimes, I think they just like to walk around the car and stare at it.

I pull up right next to the car and reach into the back seat to grab the part I can’t wait to give to Dustin.

“What’s that?” Tommy asks before I’m fully out of the car. He’s alone.

“A surprise,” I respond.

He nods at it, rubbing his hands together as his eyes squint and focus the block-like part I’m trying to conceal behind my back.

“That our intake?” Tommy asks.

I don’t know why the way he asks pricks the hairs on the back of my neck so much, but I’m instantly defensive.

“You mean Dustin’s part?” I retort. It’s not like my brother paid for it. My brother quit paying for things on that car months ago.

“Ha

“Tommy.” I echo his tone.

He reaches in at me and I twist to avoid his grabby hands, which only makes his immaturity tick up. Lunging at me twice, I flinch each time until he finally catches me turning the wrong way. He pries the piece from my hands and strides around the back end of the car while I practically chase him.

“Tommy! Give it!” I sound like such a child, but I’m pissed. I helped a real douchebag cheat on a test so I could buy that part.

“This is too much, Ha

“I’m not doing anything, Tommy! I was being nice! To . . . our . . . friend!” I shout, my hands flailing desperately. I can feel the fire tickling my cheeks. I always glow red when I’m angry.

My brother’s eyes shift over my shoulder and he clears his throat. Out of habit, I guess, I obey. Maybe my body is trained to react and follow his lead, to keep my mouth shut when he hints that I should. It’s the curse of being the younger sibling, automatic subservience. Whatever it is, it shuts me up.

Dustin pops out our front door with one of my mom’s sugar cookies in his hand.

“What’s that?” He nods toward Tommy, but his eyes flash to me for a moment. My stomach bubbles up with aching pride as the heat drains from my cheeks, anger replaced by an overwhelming joy because I’m about to give something nice to someone special.

“Surprise, dude! Had my dad pick it up today. Didn’t say anything in case it was gone when he went in,” my brother says, literally stealing my thunder.

What the . . .

I’m stupefied, my feet glued to the ground beside Dustin’s car, my fingers curling into themselves until they practically lose feeling. It’s not that my brother lied; Tommy lies all the time. It’s that he lied to Dustin about me, in a way. That he stole a moment from me, and why? Because he’s jealous.

“That’s amazing, man! Thank you so much! I mean . . . wow!” Dustin slings an arm around my brother’s neck, an arm that’s meant for me. All that’s left for me to do is nod while I smile through gritted teeth as Dustin pulls away and points to the part in his hands.

“Amazing.” I can’t imagine the resentment in my clipped response and tight smile doesn’t beam through the seam between my lips. It’s so obvious to me, but Dustin doesn’t appear thrown by it. He’s already under his hood, already calling out for tools that my brother scurries to find. The two of them are fast at work within seconds, and I’m still glued to the concrete beside a passenger door I’ve never even gotten to pass through for a ride.

Not even once.