Harli unlocked the back door to the shop, getting there two hours before opening. She wanted to get a head start on the Harley already completely taken apart in her stall to ready for the incoming motorcycle Russ had booked for her. Harli grunted with dissatisfaction at the thought; her father could have at least given her early notice of the appointment.
Harli threw her bag under the computer desk, leaning down and pushing the power button on to the desktop computer. As it warmed up, Harli walked over to the front window and yanked open the dusty blinds, squinting and flinching at the sudden sunlight that scared her eyes. Her hand hovered over her face and gladly blocked the sun from her eyes, opening another pair of yellow-colored blinds. She coughed as she inhaled the nasty dust as they flew up into the air, turning around and walking back towards the desk.
Tossing her coat on the swivel chair, Harli turned around on her heel and pushed through the swinging double doors that led into the stalls. She flipped on the overhead lights and placed her hands on her hips, staring at the shambled motorcycle. Scratching her head, she groaned and turned around, flipping on the propane for the blowtorch and placing her face mask and gloves on the table behind her. She had to weld on a customized tailpipe to the motorcycle; its owner wanted it hotter and louder so he could hopefully blow his fellow bike riders out of the water.
Harli knelt down on her bare knee and grabbed the tailpipe she rigged together yesterday. She shoved it back into place on the bike and grabbed her welding mask, tossing it on her head. The gloves settled too big on her fingers, seeming as they had been her fathers, and she grabbed the welding torch flipping the switch. The flame exploded once the propane ignited and hissed in Harli's ear as it burned violently. Harli pressed a button hanging lazily from the lift post, watching as the bike slowly lifted into the air. Once the bike was chest height to her, she walked forward and slapped the mask down on her face.
As if it were an angry yellow jacket, the flame buzzed against the chrome steel and shot off singing sparks that threatened to light everything on fire. But alas, the air was too cold for them to make it too far and they died on their journey. Slowly, Harli patiently molded the creases of the metal against the stern frame of the motorcycle. Welding was so electrifying that when she felt the amusing tingle of sparks meeting with her skin, a wave of enjoyment rolled through her spine.
Harli pulled back and flipped up the mask, briefly turning off the torch and switching sides. She pulled the propane tank along on its small wheels and grabbed the other tailpipe and shoved it into place. Harli didn't realize it, but a couple hours had already passed as she torched, rigged, and assembled the exhaust system on the Harley. It was a very grueling task and the heat of the torch, combined with the rising heat of the summer air outside, Harli felt like passing out.
Her breathing stopped when she heard the back door to the shop open, her eyes instantly meeting with the double doors. She looked up at the clock and noticed that it was already past 9:30 in the morning, mentally cursing to herself; she had completely lost track of time to open the shop at 8:30. Harli nearly jumped out of her skin when the double doors exploded open, Russ stepping in with a large scowl on his face. Harli gulped at the sight of his hungover demeanor, knowing he had to have been in a very bad mood. The bags under his eyes showed his lack of sleep and the red strings of bloodshot reaching for his irises signaled he may have still had alcohol in his beat up system.
"Why the hell haven't you opened the shop yet?" He grumbled while staring at her. She cleared her throat and stepped out from behind the bike, gripping her pair of gloves tightly behind her back with both hands.
"S-sorry… I got here a couple hours early to get a head start on the bike and I guess I lost track of time." She scratched the back of her head and shifted uncomfortably in her boots. With a displeased sigh, her father turned back around and disappeared behind the double doors once again. Harli let out a held breath and tossed her welding gloves on a clattered table, following her dad through the doors. She saw him sitting in the swivel chair, head rested on the table, "Dad, you can't keep doing this to yourself." She leaned over the counter above the computer, staring down at him. Even though they had a distant relationship, he was still her father and she still held concern for his alcoholism. "The counselor isn't going to be happy."
"Oh be quiet… I'm fine. I can go have fun wherever the hell I want whenever the hell I want." He looked up at her with irritated. She sighed and shook her head, looking out the window next to the counter.
"Our deal was that if I moved here to help you with your work that you would go to counseling and cut back on your drinking." She looked back at him and noticed that he was avoiding her piercing green stare. She sympathized with him; ever since her mother died at the age of thirteen, he was never the same. The alcohol taunted him and eventually took over his life.
"Do you seriously want to lose this shop? I mean, ever since you started it a few years ago that's all you ever talked about when you called me while I was away at school. This is your life." Her father grunted and got to his feet, casually strolling past her towards the front door. Russ reached down and grabbed the switch to the OPEN sign on the front window and flipped it on. He unlocked the deadbolt and handle to the door so people would be able to enter the office for business. Harli turned around and leaned back against the counter, "I can move back to Lovejoy… I have no problem with that."
"Don't." Her father finally mustered the courage to face her and he sighed, rubbed his hands through his hair, and eventually, his face. The scruffy peppered beard on the line of his jaw hissed as he scratched it, placing his free hand on his hip. "I'm tryin' my hardest here, you gotta understand that. I have so many bottles under my damn belt over the years you can't just expect me to cut it cold turkey."
"I'm not expecting you to but you can't just go party at the bar all the time on weeknights. I'm not gonna be that person to open shop and expect you or the other guys at any time of the day. There's work to be done and I'm no auto mechanic to finish up your work… only motorcycle." Harli clarified and Russ gave a steady nod. But she knew that all her words were going in one ear and eventually they'd blow right out the other. For now, she just wanted him to focus on the rest of the hot rods in the three stalls in the shop. The car show was this town's most important event, and if the bikers and muscleheads didn't have their rides back by the weekend, Russ might as well kiss his shop goodbye.
"Fine… fine… just leave me alone about it. Give me a few minutes to gather myself and go get back to work on that motorcycle." He pushed past her again, but this time, into his back office. Slamming the door behind him, Harli sighed and pressed back into the shop, staring at the Harley on the lift. The fuel system was next and Harli didn't look forward to it. Cleaning out the system was one of the most annoying things in the world to do.
.:=:.
Harli gritted her teeth and threw a wrench down on the ground, the steel screeching against the concrete and halting next to the feet of one of Russ' shop hands. He looked down at the wrench and saw the frustration eating at Harli's face, "Hey there little lady! Watch where you's throwin' them things!"
"Sorry…" Harli grumbled and scratched her head while staring at the problem. The fuel line to the motorcycle wasn't lining up right with the engine, meaning Harli had to have done something wrong. She thought quickly and walked to the back of the shop, opening a box full of spare fuel lines and yanking out a few to try on. "Thank god…" Harli was relieved when one of the spare fuel lines fit and finally managed to put all the pieces back together.
"God damn Dixon's!" She heard her father shout over the many power tools that were being used in the shop. Russ' shop hands all looked up curiously at the door and Harli tilted her head. Russ burst through the doors and threw a box on the table, grumbling to himself under his breath.
"What's wrong boss?" Russ looked over at his older shop hand and one of his best friends, Leroy,
"Damn Dixon's ain't answerin' their phone and I got these god damn brake pads Daryl came in and bought yesterday." Harli's eyes quickly returned to the motorcycle at hand once she heard the word bought. Leroy brushed his hands off with a dirty rag,
"Just take em down to their place."
"Can't… we gotta finish up that Mustang at the end down there by the end of close-shop today." Harli's eyes shifted back to her father from the corner of their sockets. He was torn in what to do and he knew very well that those brake pads needed to be either delivered or picked up as soon as possible. Harli breathed and looked back at the Harley, seeing that the bike was nearly complete. Standing to her feet, she grabbed the clean rag off the seat of the motorcycle, rubbing her palms against the gritty cloth.
"I'll take them down there." All eyes shifted to Harli as she stepped towards Russ. He narrowed his eyes at her,
"But you gotta finish that damn thing."
"It's basically done. All I got left is to take it on a test ride to see if it's riding smooth. I can do that when I get back." Russ was hesitant but he knew that Harli was his only chance at getting the brake pads to the Dixon's. It wasn't a major issue, but it was one less thing he had to worry about. This time of the year was always the most stressful. With a strained nod, he let out a sigh,
"Alright, but you best go there and come straight back. If you just follow Cherokee road all the way down to Edisun lane, take a left there and keep goin' until you see an old cabin with a big white shop behind it. If no one is there then just leave the brake pads in front of the shop door."
"I will." She grabbed the box of brake pads and turned around towards the double doors. She halted once she heard her father,
"And you watch out for that Merle! He may be a good friend of mine but he's as dirty as a dog gets!"
Harli heeded his advice and walked through the door, grabbing her bag from under the computer desk before she headed out the back door. The rusted exterior of the old black Camaro her father had given her stared her in the face as she approached. Opening the croaking door, she placed the brake pads on the back seat and tossed her bag on the passenger's seat. The heat of the interior of the car was almost unbearable, Harli barely being able to breathe. She pressed down on the clutch of the car, turning the key of the ignition to try and start it. But of course, the car mocked her just like the night before, turning over, but not completely. Once, she finally got it to start, but the engine coughed and shut off almost as fast as it started. Harli gritted her teeth and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, dropping her hand in her lap and closing her eyes, "Come on, baby… come on…" As if the car gave into her pleas, she turned the key and the engine roared to life like a lion establishing its dominance. With a pleased smile, Harli shut the driver's side door and quickly rolled down the window for fresh air, her car not having any AC.
.:=:.
The Camaro trudged down the long runway of dirt towards the Dixon's white shop, all the stall doors wide open. A nervous lump caught in her throat and the pit of her stomach began to ache as she got closer and closer. She saw a couple men walking around the stalls and staring at her as her old beater came to a stop. Taking a deep breath and gathering her anxious courage, she shoved open the driver's door and stepped out into the heat. Leaning back into the car, she grabbed the box of brake pads and shut the door with her foot, stepping towards the shop.
"Yo Merle, we got company…" Mitch nodded towards Harli as she got closer to the shop, making Merle's attention from the engine of the roadster in front of him to the girl in his driveway. A sly smile crossed his cheeks and he closed the gap between himself and her, meeting her just outside the stall,
"Hot damn… it must be my birthday! Pretty little thing like you don't come round these parts too often." He wiped his hands with a rag and Harli cleared her throat, trying to fight the blank slate in her head.
"You must be Merle… my dad's told me a lot about you. My name's Harli." Merle narrowed his eyes as they glazed over her extended hand onto figure, his lips pursing greedily. He finally managed to look back into her innocent and uneasy eyes, taking her hand in his in a tight handshake.
"Mmm mm… wish I could say the same about you. You must be Russell's kid; what brings you out here sweetcheeks?"
"Your brother uh… Daryl… came by yesterday and ordered brake pads for your motorcycle. Dad called a bunch of times but you guys didn't answer." Harli tried to avoid insatiable stare of Merle, shifting uncomfortably in her boots and extending the box out towards him. He looked at it, then back to her, taking the box in his hands,
"Well… didn't think these would come in so fast. How long you been around here for? It's a shame Russ never talked about you good lookin'. Probably hoped I wouldn't get a hold of ya." He grinned with a wink and a shiver ran up Harli's spine. She had never dealt with such a forward man and it was so overwhelming she didn't know what to do with herself. The other shop hands took notice of her odd presence and couldn't help but stop their work and stare at her as well.
"Merle!" Harli heard a shout come from behind her and both she and Merle turned to look towards the cabin. A wash of relief somewhat took over her body once her eyes found a semi-familiar face. As Daryl caught the sight of Harli standing in front of his brother, he tensed and slowed his pace, avoiding his gaze towards her and looking straight at Merle. Merle turned halfway towards his brother,
"What's so important, boy, that ya'll gotta ruin my conversation with Russ' pretty daughter right here?" Daryl stole a quick glance from Harli and stopped a few feet from them, looking back at Merle,
"Scrappy called and said he's on his way over to get his roadster. He ain't waitin' any longer." Merle nodded and looked back at Harli with a toothy grin, taking another quick look over her long, lean figure,
"Hope to see you round here more often. You should come with us to a night on the town some night and I'll show you a time you'll never forget." Merle looked back at Daryl as he turned around, placing the box of brake pads on a shop table. He smacked Mitch's shoulder and pulled him along back towards the roadster, getting back to work before its owner arrived. Harli looked over at Daryl, but saw that he was gone beside her and trudged into the shop without a word. She turned back around to her car and strode towards it under the hot sun, stepping in through the driver's side door.
Her fingers placed themselves on the key to ignition, but before she started the car, she looked back at Daryl, seeing the troubled look on his face. Ever since she saw him lay eyes on her, his entire demeanor changed from yesterday; like it was a bad thing she was here or something. Harli sighed to herself and flipped the keys to the engine, hearing it turn over and choke into silence.
Crap.
She pressed her fore head against the steering wheel once again, shoving the clutch to the floor and trying to start it. It teased her with a few starting whines, but then coughed and shut off once again. A few sweet talking words came from her mouth to coax her car into starting again, but her car only took a couple stuttered laughs in the form of a turning engine. She groaned and slammed a balled fist on the dashboard,
"I swear I'm going to drive you off a cliff…"
"How you gonna do that if it don't even start?" Harli's head flicked up as she saw Daryl hovering over to driver's side window, his arm leaning on the door frame. He stared curiously at her and she laughed nervously,
"I guess you have a point…"
"Know why it won't start?"
"No. I'm not an auto mechanic." She said and Daryl stepped back, waving his fingers to coax her out of the car,
"Get out; let me see what's goin' on." Harli shoved the squeaky door open and stepped out, Daryl noting how humbly her legs held her up and showed how smoothly she moved. He brushed past her and stepped into the vehicle,
"God damn you might as well sit on the steering wheel while you drive…" Daryl grumbled more to himself than Harli, shoving the seat backwards so he could get his full figure into the Camaro. Harli waited patiently as she watched his hand go for the keys in the ignition. She hope, no she prayed that it wouldn't start by Daryl's hand. She didn't want to start there like a bumbling idiot as he turned over the engine without a problem at all. But that car hated her ever since her dad gave it to her when she moved here; nothing but nonstop problems every time she drove it. Knowing the car, it would start right up for Daryl without a second choke.
Harli sighed in relief when the first two times Daryl tried to start the engine, it grumbled and didn't bother to turn over. Harli placed her hands on her hips as Daryl stepped out of the vehicle, leaving the door open and leaning on the frame.
"Hey Bobby Joe! Get your ass out here!" Harli looked over to see a younger southern boy, his dirty blond hair catching the air as he ran over to him. He smirked and winked at Harli as he passed by, Daryl flicking his head to the back of the car,
"Start pushin'."
"What?"
"I didn't stutter boy, get back there and start pushin'!" Daryl ordered and with fearful gulp, the younger man jogged back behind the car and placed his hands on the hot back end. Daryl put the car in neutral and pushed the door frame forward along with the little help of Bobby Joe. Harli walked along with them,
"What're you doing?"
"Gonna fix your car, what's it look like?" Daryl said with a strained grunt as Harli imagined the car had to have been heavy to push it like that.
"You don't have to do that I can just have my dad come tow it."
"No skin off my bones, not like I'm doin' anything important anyways." Daryl huffed and jumped out from behind the door, shutting it, and retreating to the back end of the car with Bobby Joe. They shoved it into an empty stall of the shop and it took no time coming to an abrupt halt. Daryl wiped the back of his hand over his forehead and panted, opening the driver's side door and leaning down by the pedals to control the Camaro. With a loud pop, the hood cocked open a few inches and Daryl walked up towards the front, unlatching the hood and propping it up with the rod.
Leaning over the engine, he felt the heat of the burning engine rolling up into his face, making him step back and take a breather. He saw Harli standing a fair distance outside the stall in the sun and narrowed his eyes, wondering why she was standing out there. He leaned back over the engine and brought his eyes towards the back of the giant mechanism and reached his fingers deep down in through a bundle of wires and other various parts under the hood. He flinched upon hitting a hot piece of metal and growled a profanity under his breath, trying to avoid any hot metal as much as possible. Finally finding what he was looking for, he didn't need his eyes to disconnect it as it was a cake walk for him. Daryl pulled his arm out of the crevice and started at the device in his hand, prying the connected pieces apart and diagnosing it quickly.
"Found your problem." Harli stared at Daryl as he walked towards her, a small, greasy little gadget in his hand. He held it up and Harli narrowed her brows, not knowing what it is, "Your starter. Damn things completely shot." Harli groaned and rubbed her dirty hand over her forehead,
"Ugh… just my luck."
"I can fix it for you real quick if you want." Daryl offered and Harli looked up at him questioningly, debating whether or not she should take the hospitality. She crossed her arms and put a hand on her chest with a sigh,
"How long will it take?"
"Bout an hour tops… I should have a starter round here somewhere." Harli debated even further. She had a motorcycle to get back to and test out to make sure it worked perfectly before the owner showed up. He could have possibly already been there, raising hell at her father's shop and demanding he get his motorcycle for free. Russ would definitely scold her to the bone whenever she got back or bring the hellfire to her. Not to mention yet another motorcycle would be dropped off that afternoon for her to start and be done with by Friday morning. But she couldn't bother her dad, or his shophands, for a ride. They were far too busy; and Harli wasn't about to ask the Dixon's for one either, they looked like they had their hands overflowing with work.
Guess it was just time to sit there and ride it out.
"That's fine… I guess I'll just sit here and wait for it to get done."
Daryl nodded and tossed the starter in the back of the old junk truck like a baseball, it landing with a loud thud in the forest of rusted parts. Daryl looked back down at Harli's dirty face, "I'll let you know when it's done. Ya'll welcome to have a beer and sit somewhere."
.:=:.
It was easy pulling out the fried starter to the car, but a lot harder to put back in with Daryl's large hands. He almost called over Bobby Joe to help him; but knowing that lazy kid, he would either hook it up the wrong way or not know what the hell he was doing. Almost forty five minutes had passed and Daryl had the started in place, but the frayed wires were proving quite difficult for him to connect back in.
Daryl pulled back out from above the engine, forgetting how low the hood of the car was hovering over him. His head slammed up against it and he stumbled back, rubbing his head and scowling at the car. He rammed his boot against the front end of it,
"Piece of shit!" He huffed abruptly and quickly calmed himself before he tore the Camaro a new asspipe. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he took a quick swig of a bottled beer and set it down gently.
"Ya'll gonna let that poor girl sit out there and wither in the heat?" Bobby Joe looked over at Daryl, taking a quick break from sweeping the dirt out of the empty shop stalls. Looking out over the top of the car, Daryl saw Harli sitting on the tailgate of his baby blue Ford. She had one leg drawn to her chest and her chin resting on her knee, her bangs covering her face from the bright sun.
"Stupid girl." Daryl scoffed and walked out of the stall towards her, wondering why the hell she was sitting out in the hot sun. Her tan skin looked like it was starting to turn red, "You're gonna be lookin' like a steamed lobster if you keep sittin' out here in this damn sun." Daryl stood over her and she looked up at him, shielding her eyes with her hand.
"I'm fine, don't worry about me."
"Don't be a stubborn ass. There's a stool you can sit on in the shop out of this heat. Come on now." Daryl enticed, but Harli didn't budge from her spot. Daryl grabbed her arm and yanked her off the burning metal of the tailgate,
"Hey!"
"You don't get to argue; I don't want to be callin' your daddy tellin' him you're dead of heat stroke in my driveway!" Daryl pulled her along through the shop stall and propped the stool next to a table. Harli took a quick seat, rubbing her arm where Daryl had towed her into the shop. His grip wasn't rough or tight, but Harli was surprised he grabbed her and dragged her into the shop to avoid the hot heat. She jumped when Daryl slammed something on the table beside her. Harli's green eyes saw a cold bottle of beer staring her in the face,
"Drink somethin', you look like you're bout to pass out."
"B-but… I don't drink liquor."
"Well, I ain't got no water so you're shit outta luck." Daryl turned back around for Round Two at the starter of the Camaro. He leaned over the engine of the car and reached his hands as far as he could behind the engine and started down through the jungle of wires, seeing the mechanism.
Harli's eyes slowly moved to the corner of her lids, staring at the freezing bottle of beer. A craving ball of lust rolled down her throat as she watched cold beads of perspiration traveling down the glass, finding refuge on the metal table below it. Looking back at Daryl and seeing that he was busy, she quietly grabbing the bottle and took a quick swing, gently placing it back down on the table. Her heart skipped a beat when the glass made a soft clank against the table. Her hands swiftly clasped together in her lap and she swallowed the liquor down her throat just as Daryl looked at her over his shoulder. With an accusing glance, he slowly turned back to his task at hand and Harli let out a sigh of relief.
Her dry throat was finally alleviated by the cold beer and it made her inhale with satisfaction. She always felt bad when people offered her their southern hospitality, but the beer sitting next to her was taunting her desperately to take another drink. She had to admit, the alcohol was good and the taste was pure pleasure on her tongue. She lied when she said she didn't drink liquor; only once in a blue moon did she drink and when she did, Harli didn't drink the little things, she would downright binge drink.
But one beer wouldn't hurt, right?
Harli snagged the beer in her fingers again, shivering at the touch of its coolness. She brought the rim to her lips and closed her eyes in brief decadence, now chugging the drink down her throat. The weight of the beer tugged at the bottom of her stomach, Harli feeling a twinge of queasiness from guzzling it too fast.
"Damn girl… sure do like your liquor, dontcha?" Harli forgot all about Bobby Joe and the slippery neck of the beer bottle snapped out of her fingers. It crashed to the concrete floor and Harli gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. Daryl pulled himself back upwards and stared at the glassy mess on the ground and then up to Harli's frightened eyes.
"I am so sorry." She managed to apologize meekly. Daryl's eyes instantly went to Bobby Joe,
"Clean this mess up you made."
"I'm not the one who broke it, make her do it!"
"Ain't gonna make her do shit you're the one who scared her!" Daryl argued with the young adult, Bobby Joe sticking his tongue out at him childishly. Daryl shook his head and raised his eyebrows, "Stick that thing out at me again and I'll rip it out of your mouth with a pair of pliers…"
Bobby Joe stared back at Daryl challengingly and Harli sat motionlessly, still with his hands over her mouth, waiting for something to happen. With a smirk, Bobby Joe's tongue slipped back through his lips and sooner than it did, he wheeled around on his heel and took off through the shop. Daryl swiftly grabbed a pair of pliers off the table next to Harli and took off after the young boy, the two sprinting down the driveway.
"Kick that little fucker's ass Daryl! Teach him a lesson!" Merle called loudly with a laugh in his voice, both he and Mitch quickly walked to the edge of the stall to watch the chaos. Harli jumped off her stool and grabbed the broom Bobby Joe handled and a dustpan from the corner of the shop. She quickly swept at the mess as she heard a mass of shouts coming from Merle and Mitch; a few from poor Bobby Joe in the distance. But Harli had to admit to herself, he did ask for it and Daryl didn't seem like the kind of guy to play childish games. Bobby Joe was most likely showing off in front of Harli.
She dumped all the glass she could find with the broom into the trashcan next to Merle's stall. She couldn't help but stop and stare at Merle's motorcycle sitting patiently on the concrete. It was some type of modified Triumph Bonneville archetype, making Harli even more curious. The bike was old, that's for sure, and most likely had seen many miles of endless highways. It had a modified gas tank, ape-hanger handlebars, and had a chopper-style front end. It was a really nice bike in Harli's eyes, but she preferred the famous Harley Davidson. She was named after them, after all. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at the Aryan Schutzstaffel double lightning bolt insignia on the gas tank. What a shame.
"You look damn good standin' there next to my bike." Harli looked up and found the eyes of none other than Merle staring back at her. She felt her cheeks heat up in a blush,
"Yeah uh… pretty nice bike you got there. Triumph?"
"Takes a lot for people to figure out what my baby is… Daryl tells me you're Russ' little bikehead back at the shop."
"Yeah, fresh outta mechanics school actually." Harli tried to keep a casual conversation between she and Merle but he was too much of a horndog to care. With a smile, Merle walked towards her and Harli cleared her throat, feeling her rump brush up against a table as she backed up.
"You ride?"
"Only with test drives…"
"Well maybe this weekend you and me can take a little ride in the parade on my big black beaut back there and then after we'll come back to my place and get a little freaky." Harli almost passed out in embarrassment at the offer from Merle. He was so overwhelming with his lusty stare and toothy grin that Harli became tongue tied and couldn't muscle any words off her lips. "Whaddya say? Russ don't have to know bout it…" Harli heard the roaring shout of her Camaro's engine come to life and both she and Merle glanced over at it. Harli took that moment to slip out of Merle's radar and jogged towards her car,
"It was nice meeting you all!" Finally words came out of her mouth as she left the stall of the shop, waving back at Merle and Mitch. Her Camaro came to an abrupt halt and she stopped a few feet of way, watching as Daryl stepped out of it. His face was less than amused, less than cheerful, as he glared at her before returning his attention to the car. Daryl pressed the hoodrod back down in its clip and slammed the hood shut, wiping his hands on his pants.
"There… all fixed and done with." He left the driver's side door open for her and she walked forward, placing a hand on the doorway. The car chugged in surrender to Daryl's superior mechanical skills, but Harli knew that it was only a matter of time before it tried to screw her over again. But Harli ignored that fact and smiled at Daryl, elevating her hand towards him,
"Thank you… I really appreciate it. I couldn't bring myself to ask my dad to look at it, being busy with the festival this weekend and all."
"No problem… anything for a friend." Harli's smile widened and her bright white teeth gleamed in the sunlight at the sound of the word friend. Daryl took her hand in a tight handshake once again, a bit surprised at how strong her grip was. He pulled away before she did and Harli quickly leaned into her car, grabbing her bag,
"How much do I owe you?" Harli pulled out her wallet and Daryl's head instantly flicked in a shake,
"Nothin'. It's on the house."
"Gonna pull that card, huh?" He couldn't help but cock a half smile on his face and he nodded,
"The least I can do for givin' me those brake pads for free. I know they're pretty damn expensive." Harli sat in the driver's seat and pulled the door shut, staring up at him through the open window.
"Thanks again… see you around." Daryl nodded without a word and Harli threw the Camaro in reverse, the car rolling backwards out of the driveway slowly. Daryl turned back around towards the shop and rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip. He threw a wrathful glare at Bobby Joe as he entered the shop,
"Looks like my little brother made a cute little friend!" Merle stared at Daryl with a thick smile and Daryl only ignored him. Mitch looked over at Merle,
"Pretty little girl she was. Wouldn't mind gettin' a piece of that myself."
"In your dreams Mitch. With that ugly mug of yours there's no chance."
"I could say the same for you, Merle!" Mitch called back to his old friend. Daryl huffed while listening to the two older men's suggestive conversation. He shook his head at the thought of Harli and Merle getting together; there was just no way Russ would let that happen. For once in Daryl's eyes though, he saw a girl that wasn't interested in Merle or his charm. "She wasn't much of a talker though…"
"Ah, I thought that innocence in her eyes was absolutely adorable. That's how you can tell she's a virgin." The two laughed together and Daryl walked out of the shop towards the cabin. He heard Merle call after him, but Merle's words didn't pierce the muddy waters of Daryl's mind. Daryl jumped up the back steps of the cabin and slammed the door behind him, taking a deep breath before his lost his marbles. He hated it, so much, that Merle and the other guys who he hung around had no respect for women. Daryl felt like the only one. Sure, every now and then he'd get drunk at the bar, gather his liquid courage, and take a girl home for a night of fun. But he didn't have the charm his brother had and he had no idea how he got girls talking to them the way he did. Daryl just couldn't bring himself to follow in Merle's footsteps.
He did notice that Harli was a bit awkward around Merle, Mitch, and even Bobby Joe. But he was confused at how she had absolutely no problem talking to him. Daryl felt a bit strange around her as well and couldn't help but engage in casual conversation. He silently admitted to himself, deep in his head that was soon locked away, that Harli was a very pretty girl. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her exotic features: those bright green eyes, her chocolate highlighted hair that barely reached the middle of her back, and the way she carried herself when she walked.
But he knew that he had no chance with her.