Chương 10
“I’m not trying to take it from you.”
“That’s exactly what it sounds like.”
I sighed.
“Jake, listen to me.”
“No, you listen.”
People were leaving the shop around us.
One of the younger techs glanced over, then kept walking.
Jake’s voice got louder.
“I didn’t do this.”
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like I stole something.”
“I’m not.”
“You made me leave the car at your place.”
“Because my name is on the loan.”
“And I drive it.”
“Because Dad gave it to you.”
“So what am I supposed to do now?”
I looked at him.
There it was again.
The practical question underneath all the emotion.
School.
Work, if he ever found one.
His life.
“I don’t know yet.”
“That doesn’t help me.”
“I know.”
“You always have an answer for everything until it screws me.”
That one landed.
I stepped closer.
“Do you think I wanted this?”
“I think you wanted to stop paying them.”
“Yes.”
“And now everything’s blowing up.”
“Because they were using my information without telling me.”
Jake looked away.
I lowered my voice.
“You’re not responsible for that.”
“Feels like I am.”
“You’re not.”
He rubbed his face.
“Mom says Dad could lose his job if this turns into a criminal thing.”
“What does his job have to do with it?”
“He has some kind of background check every year.”
I had not known that.
Dad worked for a warehouse logistics company that handled commercial accounts.
He was not management, but he had access to inventory systems and vendor records.
A fraud charge could matter.
The thought made my stomach twist.
Jake saw my expression.
“Exactly.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Use his job to make me drop this.”
“I’m telling you what Mom said.”
“That doesn’t mean I caused it.”
Jake laughed bitterly.
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
“What?”
“That nobody caused anything.”
He looked at me.
“Dad says you’re destroying the family.”
“Mom says Dad made a mistake.”
“And you say they used you.”
His eyes were red.
“What am I supposed to think?”
I had no answer.
He kicked a pebble across the parking lot.
“I hate all of you right now.”
“That’s probably fair.”
He looked at me, almost angry that I agreed.
Then he said, “Can I get my stuff out of the car?”
“Yeah.”
We drove separately to my apartment.
Carol was watering plants beside the garage when we arrived.
She watched Jake climb out of his rideshare.
“Brother?”
“Yes.”
She looked between us.
“You have the same irritated forehead.”
Jake frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Carol pointed at me.
“That.”
Then she went back to watering.
Jake waited until we were behind the garage before saying, “Who is she?”
“My landlord.”
“She’s weird.”
“She thinks you’re weird too.”
“You didn’t ask her.”
“I can tell.”
He almost smiled.
The car sat where he had left it.
A dark gray sedan with one small scratch above the rear wheel.
I had seen it hundreds of times and never paid much attention.
Now it looked like evidence.
Jake opened the trunk.
Inside were two hoodies, a backpack, an empty case of energy drinks, and a bag of gym clothes that smelled bad enough to qualify as a weapon.
I leaned against the garage wall.
“Do you have the registration?”
“In the glove box.”
He opened the passenger door.
A minute later, he handed me the folded paper.
My name was printed on the registration.
I felt something inside me go still.
Jake read over my shoulder.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t I ever notice that?”
“Because you didn’t have a reason to.”
He looked at me.
“Do I even own anything about this car?”
“I don’t know.”
“Insurance?”
“Probably Dad’s policy.”
He sat on the passenger seat with the door open.
“What happens if you get the loan canceled?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I don’t.”
He stared at the floor mat.
“I was supposed to drive to campus tomorrow.”
“I can take you.”
He looked up.
“You work.”
“I start at six.”
“My class is at ten.”
“Then I can’t take you.”
“Great.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“I’ll pay for a rideshare.”
“No.”
“Jake.”
“No.”
“You need to get to class.”
“I can figure it out.”
That was new.
He carried his backpack and clothes upstairs while I photographed the registration.
Inside, he stood beside the folding table and looked around again.
“Did Mom help you move any of this?”
“No.”
“Dad?”
“No.”
“Anybody?”
“Luis helped with the toolbox.”
He nodded.
Then he noticed the cracked scanner case near the wall.
The insurance company had not collected it yet.
His face changed.
“I said I’d pay for that.”
“No, you said Dad would.”
Jake looked down.
“Yeah.”
He stepped closer to the case.
“How much did it cost?”
“Replacement was twelve eighty.”
His head snapped up.
“Twelve hundred?”
“Plus tax.”
He stared at the cracked screen through the open case.
“I thought it was like three hundred.”
“You never asked.”
He swallowed.
“I was drunk.”
“I know.”
“No, I mean really drunk.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know.”
He sat in Carol’s squeaky chair.
For a while, he said nothing.
Then he pulled out his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking my account.”
“For what?”
He ignored me.
After a few seconds, he said, “I have four hundred and sixty.”
“Okay.”
“I can give you four hundred.”
“No.”
He looked up.
“Why?”
“Because then you have sixty dollars.”
“So?”
“So keep it.”
“I broke your scanner.”
“You helped break it.”
“That’s not better.”
I leaned against the counter.
“Pay me later.”
“When?”
“When you have a job.”
His expression tightened.
There was the sore spot.
“I’m looking.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
I said nothing.
Jake stood.
“You always think I’m lying.”
“I think you say you’re looking.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“Have you applied anywhere?”
He looked away.
“One place.”
“In how long?”
He did not answer.
I shook my head.
“Forget it.”
May you like
“No.”
His voice sharpened.
