I will always be grateful to the owner of that garage. He was always understanding, and willing to give me the hours I needed because he knew what was happening. He was incredibly gracious with letting me work on my homework while on shift, though he was never a person who let me slack off on the job.
The day that I last saw her I was getting ready to leave the shop. I had a project due in my biology class the next day, and I hadn’t even started it. The entire garage was clean, and I was the last one there. Technically, we were already closed. I heard a screeching sound behind me, and a BMW came reeling into the garage way too fast. I had to jump to get out of the way.
The car was full of laughing teenagers from my school. I recognized them as the popular kids, the rich ones. They were the kids that hung out with Monica. The cool kids club that nobody else was allowed to be a part of. And it was incredibly clear that they were drunk. The guy in the passenger seat was laughing the hardest and shoving at the driver.
It was then that I realized the driver was Monica. I hated her then. I hated her for what her family had done to me, and I hated her because I wanted her so much. When I saw her, she looked panicked. She wasn’t drunk, but she wasn’t laughing either.
I didn’t want to talk to them. I wanted to send them away because we were already closed, and I knew that whatever they would ask would take me away from my schoolwork. But at the same time, I knew that if I didn’t talk to them that my life would get harder than it already was. So purely out of self-preservation, I walked over to them.
I should have known that as soon as they saw me the harassment would start. It had been open season on me for all the rich kids since the day that Monica threw my Game Boy in the street. I was known as a liar, thief, and all around poor trash. The idea that I might work for a living was offensive to them. Even more so after we lost our house and it was discovered that we were homeless for a while. Not being as well-off as them was the worst possible fate. Never mind that they didn’t understand hardship, or had suffered anything for a day in their lives. For them, it was enough to warrant my regular public humiliation.
I ignored the insults that they were yelling at me, and ignored their laughter. I let it roll off me like I did every day at school. I was used to it. This was no different
Monica got out of the car as I walked over, and it was the first time I remember ever seeing her nervous. But all the same, when her friends cheered her on, she smiled, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and looked at me like a bug that she was ready to squash.
“I need my oil changed and my tires rotated,” she said.
“You do realize that were closed, right?”
“I know,” she said. “But I’m hoping you’ll do it anyway.”
“I don’t have a reason to do that.”
She looks nervous again. “Please? I was supposed to do it earlier because my dad asked me to but didn’t get around to it because they made me drive around to all these parties.”
Only rich kids partied on a Sunday. Only people with the luxury of not having to work at all, even on the weekday, would consider going on a drinking spree the day before school. I don’t know what possibly possessed me to say what came out of my mouth next, but I did. “It’ll take me some time. I’m the only one here, everyone else has left for the day.”
She looked incredibly relieved, and I felt my heart start to race in spite of myself. She looked beautiful that day, in a white dress, brown hair gently curling around her shoulders. Even though it had gotten me into trouble before, I couldn’t help but imagine myself leaning forward to kiss her. It was what I had always wanted to do, inexplicably. Because how could I have this kind of desire for someone so shallow? For someone who had no regard for others? But as I had discovered many times in my life, the heart wants what it wants and there’s nothing that you can do to stop it.
“Thank you.”
Brakes squealed from the other side of the garage, and a new car skidded to a stop. Instantly there was a guy I recognized as Monica’s boyfriend stepping out of the driver seat and calling her name. “Monica, let’s go. The next party awaits!”