The sound of a tire screeching, followed by the distinctive squeak of the gate arm, rings through the air, making me feel like I could jump five feet.
“Please be them, shit.” I’m fixated on the small street, praying to see the truck that will finally set my day in motion. Instead of my damn dreams coming true, I have to bite my tongue as I watch my neighbor Kelly’s little pink car turn the corner as she slowly heads toward our building.
It feels like my nerves have taken on a whole new life. I’m trying not to curse. It might be time to call an Uber, but I really need to get my car. It’s Friday, and if I don’t get it now I’ll be stuck waiting until their next delivery slot on Monday. I have too much to do this weekend to prep for finals, and the guys would kill me if I didn’t show up for our end of season party. I’m officially stepping down from the football team. I have no choice. I fucked my knee up really badly last season and I started to have issues with it two months ago. My doctor told me it was time to give it a break, but I couldn’t leave the team hanging. I promised to quit after finishing this season. It sucks, really, but I never had dreams of going pro. I just loved the sport. Next term will begin my senior year and hopefully I’ll get this TA position and Satchi will consider me for a job at his engineering firm once I graduate.
“Come the fuck on,” I say, balling my fist and bouncing on my heels as if the motion could somehow will the tow truck driver to appear in front of me. Kelly pulls up to the empty parking space on my right next to a tree that I’ve been considering kicking for the last half hour.
“Hey, aren’t you all dressed up,” Kelly says, stepping out of her car and balancing a huge gold purse on her shoulder. The damn thing is bigger than she is. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah,” I say, running a hand down my button up shirt before looking back to the street, praying once again for the creak of the gate arm. “If all the bullshit in the world wasn't trying to choke me at once,” I add, probably a little too harshly.
“Goodness,” Kelly says, stepping next to me as the smell of her flowery perfume reaches my nose.
“Bitchy girlfriend of yours run out of lipstick?”
I can't help but laugh, even though I know it’s wrong. Felicia will barely leave her bedroom without putting on makeup. I’ve never understood it.
“Not nice,” I say, clearing my throat. Kelly and I had a thing once. Well, if you consider a thing drunken sex and lonely nights between studying for exams. Felicia and I have been on and off since high school. She was one of the five students that chose to go to school at Chrome Hills from my graduating class. The other three are football players who play on the team with me.
We aren’t exactly a happy couple and I’ve always wondered why she keeps coming back. No, scratch that, I know why… it’s sex. Felicia may be toxic in many ways, but sex is one thing we do well. And I know what I’m going to get with her. Bitchy, spoiled, but uncomplicated. She stays for the status of dating a football player, and I stay for the convenience of sex whenever I want it, which I know makes me a dick.
“So, why are you standing here looking insane?” Kelly asks. “Do you need a ride or something?” It's the first thing she’s said that’s caused me to look away from my fixated place at the empty road in front of me. Defeat crawls into my chest as I glance down at my watch and back at her. Noting that I have twenty-four minutes to make the ten minute trip to school. Plenty of time, really, but I like to be early.
“Yeah, actually.” There goes the weekend. “I need to get to school, but I'm stuck waiting for this damn tow truck to come.” Just as the words leave my mouth, the sound of the gate arm engaging metal against metal alerts us to someone entering the apartment complex. Both of us turn around simultaneously to see who's rounding the corner.
My heart leaps in my chest when I see it’s the tow truck.
“Fuck, finally,” I exhale.
We both watch the blue truck pull toward us. Tommy’s Auto Repair is written along the side in chunky white lettering.
“Well, darn,” Kelly says with a smirk. “Looks like I won't get you to myself after all.”
“Ha-ha, not this time.” I chuckle, immediately feeling bad for egging her on. This girl has no shame with her flirting, girlfriend or not.
“Next time.” She winks and turns toward her apartment.
“You Jordan?” A tan guy with wild curly hair and specks of God knows what on his face peeks his head out the window of the tow truck. My beauty, my beautiful blue Oldsmobile in all its glory is attached to the back.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I say, all but running to the window. The guy nods, backs into my parking space, and starts to get out of the truck. He's an older guy, he's moving slow as fuck, and I have to resist the urge to snatch open his door, grab the paperwork, and release the car my damn self.
“Just sign here,” he says, after an eternity. I hurriedly sign on the line he points out, then he waddles over to the back of the vehicle and begins detaching and lowering my car to the ground. I can barely stand still as I watch. He moves as if he has lead in his shoes.
“God damn, can this day get any worse?” I say, under my breath.
It’s as if the cosmos heard me. My phone rings in my pocket. Dying for anything to distract me from this horrible wait, I answer it without even looking at who’s calling.
”Hey, baby,” Felicia says.
“Hey. Are you on your way?”
“Um. Actually, I'm in trouble and I need your help. I’m stranded. I have a flat tire.” The sound of cars passing in the distance lets me know that she’s telling the truth. Felicia can be a bit dramatic sometimes, so you never know. Fighting back a sigh, I find out where she is and tell her I’ll be on my way as soon as possible.
“So, I have you already paid for and you should be good to go,” the tow truck driver says. “Great,” I say, all but snatching the keys from his hand. I feel like such a dick, but I’m really wound up, and not in a good way.
“Is there anything else you need?” I ask, massaging the keys between my fingers.
“No, that’s it, let me just move my truck and you can be on your way.” I watch as Tommy makes his way back to the truck, a feat that should only take all of ten seconds from where he was standing on the sidewalk to his open door. He slides his feet as he moves, the sound of his shoes dragging along the asphalt causing me to cringe. And then he stops in front of his open door and looks at his phone. I swear to God I almost yell at him.
I quickly move to my car and start the ignition, hoping this triggers him to move his old ass out of the way before I have another reason to be late to my meeting. Finally, he slides into his vehicle and pulls away. I back out of my spot and speed out of the complex.
“God, I hate cars,” Felicia says, standing in front of her white BMW. Clearly, I was wrong. This day could get worse and it just did. Felicia and I have been arguing for the last week about the most random stuff. Another telltale sign that this arrangement we have needs to come to an end soon. I have fourteen minutes to make it back to Prof. Satchi’s office and have been wondering if I should insist she leave her car and let me come back later to fix her flat or if I should do it now like a good boyfriend. I shake out my hands, cramped from the death grip I’ve had on the steering wheel the entire ride over here.