Page 32 of Love Me Not
We passed through the main lobby of the school, and Trey opened the outside door by backing into it, then holding it for me to walk through. “Yeah, they play at that age, but we don’t have girls on the team here.”
Okay, I didn’t follow sports, but I knew that much. He was missing the point. He didn’t get to erase girls from the conversation, about sports or anything else.
“But they do play other sports and have to try out for those teams. So boys and girls have to earn their place.”
Amusement in his voice, he said, “You like to argue, don’t you?”
“I’m not arguing. I’m stating a fact that you omitted.”
Unfazed, he continued walking beside me. “Then I stand corrected.”
Why was I annoyed while he was all affable puppy? “If I did like to argue, you’d be a terrible sparring partner.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you don’t fight back.” We reached my car and I set my purse on the trunk to search for my keys. I would normally have them out by now, but someone was distracting me. “Who would want to have a one-sided argument?”
“Isn’t the better question why would anyone want to argue all the time?”
Where the heck were my keys? “No one said all the time. I’m just saying that you suck at the occasional argument.” Growing frustrated, I shook my purse to send everything to one side. “Where are my dang keys?”
Trey said, “I don’t think you’ll find them in there.”
Used to the criticism, I continued my search through empty gum wrappers, wadded up gas receipts, and more emery boards than any one person needed. “I know I dropped them in here this morning.”
“Don’t think you did.”
He wasn’t helping. “Now you want to argue with me?”
“I’m not arguing. Your keys are hanging in your ignition.”
“I…” Glancing through the rear window, sure enough, there they were. In the ignition. Inside the locked car.
A teacher’s salary didn’t allow for the purchase of fancy new cars. Mine was ten years old, contained a few dents, and though it came with the little key fob hicky-doo to lock and unlock the doors, in the mornings I typically tossed the keys in my purse and pressed the lock button on the door as I got out.
This morning, I’d clearly skipped one of those steps. The most important one.
“Well, crap.”
“Do you have roadside assistance?” he asked.
I should have, considering my car could die at any moment. “No, I don’t.”
Trey pulled a phone from his back pocket. “I’ve got a buddy I can call.”
Since when? “I thought you were new in town and didn’t know anyone.”
“Outside of this school, I don’t. Larry is my landlord.”
“You have a landlord with breaking and entering skills?”
Cutting me a that’s a stupid question look, he said, “No, he has a locksmith business.”
In a strange way that made sense. But this felt very much like him doing me a favor, and that would mean I owed him. Owing people wasn’t my thing.
“There’s an extra key at my apartment. I’ll use a car service and go get it.”
Already making the call, he dipped the phone beneath his chin and said, “Where’s your house key?”