Lying Out Loud

“Your alternator. The belt is totally just hanging there. It’ll need to be replaced.”

“The alternator,” Wesley said, nodding. “I mean, obviously.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “For someone with such a nice car, you know so little about them.”

“How much is that going to cost me?” I asked.

“Hard to say,” Bianca admitted. “If it’s just the belt, it won’t be that bad. If it’s the actual alternator … a little more.”

“More that I don’t have,” I muttered. “And I don’t get paid until next week.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wesley said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I can’t let you do that,” I said. “Or your parents. You guys have already done way too much for me.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said. “We don’t mind.”

“But I do,” I argued.

Bianca put an understanding hand on my shoulder. “Maybe you could consider it a loan, then,” she said. “To be paid back when you can.”

I still wasn’t thrilled about this, but it wasn’t as if there were a ton of options. So, reluctantly, I nodded.

“Deal,” Wesley said. “I’ll even charge interest if you like.”

“Let’s negotiate that in the car. Where it’s warm,” Bianca suggested.

It took about twenty minutes for the tow truck to arrive, and by then, I was super late for work. Poor Gert and her broken alternator were hauled off, and I silently promised her I’d come to rescue her soon.

“So where were you headed?” Wesley asked as he steered the Porsche back onto the highway.

“The mall,” I said, checking the time. “My shift started half an hour ago. My boss will be so pissed. And now I have no way to get home after …”

“We can come pick you up,” Bianca said.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said.

“Of course we do,” Wesley said. “You don’t think we’d leave you stranded, do you? Just give me a call when your shift ends.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Really.”

Wesley smiled at me in the rearview mirror. “Anytime.”

Chapter 17

Well, this was some serious déjà vu.

“Sheila, come on,” I begged. “I told you. My car broke down. I had to wait for the tow truck.”

“You could have called,” she said.

“I tried,” I said. “No one answered.”

“Why didn’t you try again?”

Fair question.

“We had to call someone else to cover your shift,” she said. “The day after Christmas is always busy, and you weren’t here.”

“I told you. My car —”

“You always have an excuse,” she said.

To be fair, the excuses about Gert had been true. I’d had more problems with her lately than usual. I seriously needed a new car. But that required money. Which required a job. Which Gert was making it incredibly hard to hold on to.

Well, Gert, and my hatred of the holidays.

“Look,” Sheila said as she rearranged a few picture books that had been tossed around by some kids a few minutes before. I was following her around the store like a pathetic, lost dog. “You were seasonal anyway. We were probably going to be laying you off in two weeks as it is.”

But that was two weeks’ worth of pay that I needed. Especially now that I owed Wesley for Gert’s repairs.

I just stood there, staring at her.

“Sorry, So

I stormed out of the bookstore, pissed at Sheila and at Gert and at myself. I thought of calling Wesley, asking him to turn back around and come pick me up. But I took a deep breath and decided to be more proactive.

I was already at the mall, so I might as well start my job hunt right away.

I sighed as I headed toward the food court, remembering the day Amy and I had come here when I was first applying for new jobs.

Some days I felt like a rat on a wheel, ru

“So

I was walking out of Daphne’s, a vintage-inspired clothing store, after dropping off my application. Ryder was standing a few yards away, a shopping bag in his hand and his green utility jacket slung casually over his shoulder. He looked like a model. Like a picture any one of these stores would have loved to have advertising their brand.

“Hey, Ryder,” I said.

“What’re you doing here?”

We said it in unison, then laughed together.

“If I was seven, I would yell jinx right now.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Such a shame we’re too old for — JINX! You owe me a soda.”

Ryder rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Of course. I take these things very seriously. I prefer orange soda, by the way. Though I will also accept grape. No root beer, though. Disgusting.”

“Noted.” He glanced down at the stack of applications still tucked beneath my arm. “So, back to my question. What are you doing here?”

“Seeking employment.”

“I thought you worked at the bookstore?”

“No longer.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

“What about you? What brings you to the mall on this fine winter’s day?”

“Something just as fun.” He lifted up the shopping bags. “Returning unwanted gifts.”

“Unwanted gifts? That’s an oxymoron, Ryder.”

“You’ve never been honored with a present from my grandmother, then.”

“That bad?”

“She gave me suspenders once.”

“Well, I mean, those are making a comeback. Especially among hipsters like yourself.”

“I’m not a hipster,” he said. “And do I look like someone who wears suspenders?”

“I mean, maybe …”

“Bright purple ones?”

I giggled, trying to picture it. Ryder in his expensive blue jeans, red Goats Vote for Melons T-shirt, and bright purple suspenders. “No, not really. Though I would pay money to see it.”

“Yes, well, pay all you like. It’s not going to happen.” He sighed. “Luckily, I’ve been able to trade things in for items I would wear, so at least it wasn’t a waste of a nice gesture.”

Without saying anything, without pla

“So did Amy get you that pony?” he asked after we’d passed a few stores.

“Sadly, no. I’m very disappointed. We’re no longer on speaking terms because of it.”

“That’s a shame. You know she …”

I looked at him as he trailed off. My heart was already begi

He shook his head. “You know what? Never mind.”

Or maybe he didn’t.

“So where else do you have to drop these off?” Ryder asked, taking the applications from me and thumbing through them.

After Sheila fired me, I’d gone around the mall, picking up applications, then filled them out in the food court. Now I was just dropping them off.

“The candy shop. The smoothie place. And that sporting goods store on the other side of the building. You know, that one where all the middle-aged men in camo stand around comparing fishing poles for hours?”

Ryder grimaced. “You’re going to put an application in there?”

“My car broke down on the way here, and I have to pay for the repairs, so I can’t afford to be picky.” I took the applications back from him.

“Your car broke down on the way here?”

“Yeah. I had to call a tow truck. Thankfully, Amy’s brother was able to pick me up, so I wasn’t stranded long.” I slowed as we neared the candy store, and Ryder followed me in. He was quiet as I handed my application to the lady behind the counter, who wasted no time informing me that they weren’t hiring right now, but that they’d keep my application on file.