Blaine is sixteen and huffs out an impatient breath as his father pops the hood of the car and disappears into the bowls of the car's engine.
They are somewhere just outside Lima, sitting on the side of the highway on a cold January day. The sky is thankfully clear; no sign of snow. Blaine wishes he hadn't forgotten to charge his phone because he doesn't have anything to occupy his mind while his father fiddles with the car.
Finally, he gives up trying and steps out of the car. A blast of frigid air hits him and he almost gets back inside but he's sure his father heard him get out and a small part of him doesn't want his dad to think him any less of a man then he already does. Tensions have been running high in the four months since he came out to his parents. They haven't really spoken about it much but the fact that his mother seems to be inviting more and more of her friends who have daughters his age over to dinner hasn't escaped his notice. If it wasn't for his sister Franzie's support he's not sure he would have been able to make it this far.
Franzie is three years younger than him and for as long as he can remember she's been his best friend. The disastrous night he came out to his parents she came into his room while he sobbed on his bed and sat with him. He told her what had happened and she had hugged him. She didn't say anything really, she didn't need to; she just crawled into bed with him and started talking about boys. What boys she thought were cute what boys she didn't like, this one particular boy in her class that made her stomach do flip-flops every time she walked past. She asked him about the kind of boys he likes and before he knows it, he's started telling her about the kinds of boys he likes and the boy at the game that night who gave him courage to come out.
He moves to the front of the car and stops beside his father who is bent low over the labyrinthine car engine.
Blaine clears his throat.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
He father huffs out a frustrated breath and looks over at him.
"Do you know anything about car engines?"
Blaine feels himself deflate.
"No."
"Then you'd really only be a hindrance at this point."
Blaine nods and gets back into the car.
…
His father gets them to limping and they make it into Lima without any other problems. They pull into the first garage they find.
A man wearing coveralls, a baseball cap and the name Burt embroidered on the left breath pocket comes out to greet them.
His father and Burt speak and Blaine sits in the car, staring aimlessly out the window. In the depths of the shop, Blaine sees a face peering around the open hood of an escalade. The brightness outside obscures the inside of the shop making it look darker than it actually is but Blaine can practically feel those eyes boring into him. The facial features are soft, almost feminine although Blaine knows it's a boy. Not because of any sexist idea that women can't work in garages, Blaine can't say how he knows, just that he does.
For some reason, he can't look away. The eyes captivate him, and he feels the itch of a memory at the back of his mind. For some reason, power rangers pop into his head and he remembers getting up early on Saturdays and watching them with a bowl of cereal, not feeling alone because he was a part of this superhero team.
His thoughts are interrupted his father getting back in the car. He says something about the carburetor, but Blaine tunes it out.
That summer, his father announces they are going to rebuild a car together, telling him it'll be a good bonding experience and give Blaine a better understanding of the inner workings of cars.
Blaine can see through the flimsy excuses though, to what his father really wants out of this exercise.