I guess we fell asleep because when I wake up, it's dark out and the too damn bright screen of my phone tells me it's just past six. I stare at the time until the screen clicks off and I'm still left trying to make sense of it. I haven't slept over at her house in a long time but I guess I really was that drunk.

The inside of my mouth is like sandpaper and I run my tongue back and forth over my teeth to get rid of the feeling. All it does is give me a taste of my own breath and I quickly realize how awful that is. The taste of morning after alcohol on your tongue is something you never forget.

It's too hot to be six but I don't want to get up. If I get up, I'll have to drive home and there's a chance my dad could be getting up right now to start his morning shift. I don't want to chance running into him during my walk of shame. Not to mention getting up would mean putting some clothes on. And I have no fucking clue where we flung them in our haste to get in each other's pants.

Rolling over onto my back eases some of the heat surrounding me and I only keep a thin sheet over my lower half just in case someone comes barging in and finds us still tangled around each other. I'm not thrilled with the idea of my balls being out in the open for anyone walking in to get a look at.


Drifting back off isn't as difficult as I thought it would be and the next time I open my eyes, they're almost crusted shut and the sun is awake again, beating down through Paulina's open blinds.

With a squint, I drag the nearest pillow over my head, blocking out the obnoxious rays reaching me and I let myself ease back into a dreamless rest. It feels like it only lasts about a minute before the sound of a door opening snaps me awake. I don't think the adrenaline rush I get from hearing a door open is ever going away but at least I've perfected the art of pretending like I didn't just have a mini fucking heart attack.

"M'lina?" I mumble through the pillow, slowly shifting it off my head. She's dressed again, a cardigan on over her tank top and shorts so short I wonder if she's teasing me. I gave her that cardigan, I realize before I scoot closer to her, practically hanging off the edge of the bed. "Hey. How'd you sleep?"

She shrugs and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She moves around in her room, gathering up a few things and dropping them into her purse. "Fine. I'm meeting some of the girls at the mall so you need to get up." Paulina spares a quick glance toward me before her attention is quickly captured by her phone, vibrating in the bottom of her purse.

I watch her dig through the contents of her bag before she finds it, frowning down at the screen. My clothes are lying in the middle of her bedroom, my boxers just at the edge of the circular rug she got last year. I was with her when she picked it out, crooning over how this shade would complement this in her room. Or how this other one would go better with her general décor.

Paulina huffs out an irritated sigh and turns back toward me. "Seriously, you need to get going," she says, holding my gaze when I look up at her.

I grin, dragging my tongue over my teeth. "Are you just saying that cause you're meeting the girls? Cause we both know you'd much prefer if I stay in your bed all day. Give you something to come home to."

It's meant as a joke. A stupid shitty joke. But Paulina never gets that. She thinks all the shit that leaves my mouth is serious and I always forget not to joke with her if I'm not ready for her claws and venom to sink into me.

"No," she says with a small noise of disgust. "No, Dash, I don't want you to stay in my bed. Last night was…" She lets out a breath and the look that passes over her face is some kind of disgust mixed with disbelief. "A mistake."

I don't know what I expected. It's not like I wanted her to say "thanks for the fuck" before kicking me out. I guess I wanted it to mean something to her. Even if it was just a few minutes between two horny people, I just expected something different. "At least we used a condom then," I say, another shitty attempt at an even shittier joke.

She shakes her head and hitches her purse up onto her shoulder, shaking her head slowly. "No, Dash, I just… I don't want you in my bed again. I can't… we can't do this anymore." Paulina gives me a last look before heading for the door. Some twisted part of myself can't let it end there. Can't let it be vague and a possible "it's not you, it's me". No. That fucked up part of myself has to know why.

"Why not?" I ask, my voice smaller than I want it to be. It comes out pathetic and pleading but I'm only asking a question. It's not like her answer's gonna break me or something. It's just a question and I'm just expecting an answer.

Paulina sucks in a breath before turning around to look at me, her expression unreadable. "Because you're not the kind of guy that people stay with, Dash. You're good for a little while but then…" She flicks her gaze away from mine, shaking her head as I feel every ounce of the verbal punches she's throwing my way. "Then it's just the same old shit with you and it gets stale. Y-You just get… it's pathetic. You wallow and I let you and I just… I can't do that anymore."

She glances my way again before easing her bedroom door open. "Don't be here when I get back. I don't want to do this anymore." The door closes behind her and it hits me how wrong I was. I thought an answer wouldn't break me and it almost fucking did.


I drive for what feels like forever after I leave her place. I can't think straight. She's right. She's so fucking right and it hurts. It burns from the depths of the self-hatred I thought I'd buried long ago. Not the kind of guy people stay with. I didn't need her pretty mouth to tell me the things my mind spits at me every night I'm not drunk enough to stop thinking.

My hands are tight on the steering wheel and I think I'm bruising the insides of my palms with my grip. I push the gas pedal more, watching the tiny needle flick up past the sixty, creeping its way toward seventy. Eighty. Ninety.

The wind is flying in through my open windows, blocking out everything running through my mind. It's just me and my car, the speed almost blinding as I zip down the familiar back roads this town has to offer me. The speed and the air makes me forget about Paulina. The look on her face as she contradicted what she told me in sophomore year. When I asked if she'd leave when things got tough, she said no, She'd shaken her head so firmly, I knew she wasn't lying. Or I thought she wasn't at the time. Fuck, I don't know. My head hurts and it's not entirely from the hangover.

Eventually, I run out of roads to wind my car down and I give up trying to dislodge the knot in my chest or forget the curve of her lips when she spoke my undoing. I give up trying to do anything other than survive and I have to wonder when it stopped being that. It was survival after mom left and it's how it's always going to be. No one's waiting to put their lips on me and kiss my broken pieces or put me back together. It's just on me to drink until it stops hurting and fall asleep before my demons catch up to me, whispering the truth into my ears.


The house is empty when I get back, which makes this easier. I strip down before I'm even in the bathroom, running the water so fucking hot I can't breathe in all the steam. Just don't think. It's been my mantra for as long as I can remember and I really need to take my own advice sometimes.

My head leans against the tub wall for only a split second before I force myself to snap out of it. Push it all down. To the depths of my soul. Just forget about all of it until I can even bullshit myself into thinking I don't care anymore.

When the steam's too much and I desperately need something cooler, I turn the water off and get out of the tub, only bothering to wrap a towel around myself because I left my blinds open last night. As much as the neighbors would like a peep show, I keep my hand clamped around my towel the entire time I'm gathering my clothes, only letting it fall when I've pulled my boxers on.

The house is too quiet and I don't give a shit what Alex says, I'm not sticking around here doing homework when I know there are cars to work on. Problems I can actually fix. I'd rather spend my day surrounded by a machine's broken pieces than my own.

My expression must be murderous because the old lady across the street doesn't even wave toward me and she does that every time she sees me. This time, she just keeps her nose buried in whatever book she's reading and I do my best to pretend she's not glancing at me when I turn my back to get in my car. I rev the engine a couple of times before backing out of my driveway, faster than I probably should, and taking off down the street with squealing tires and groaning brakes.

I'm flying until I get a mile from Alex's garage, only slowing down cause I know he'll fuss at me for driving recklessly. What does it matter? He's the only one that'll miss me if I end up wrapped around a telephone pole. Well, Kwan would too.

The place is busier today which is good news for me since Alex probably won't have time to ask what the hell's going on with me. I'm already dressed in my uniform so maybe he won't even see me slip in. I grab my phone and earbuds from the passenger seat, tucking them down into my pocket before I get out of the car.

I punch my time card at the front of the shop before cramming it back into my wallet, scanning the crowd of people before I recognize Anastasia's hair, the same dark brown she shares with her brother. I move toward her immediately, crossing my arms over my chest when she turns toward me. I nod toward the clipboard on the tray in front of her. "Who can I take?"

She raises an eyebrow, her eyes scanning the shop and I guess she's looking for her brother. He said something about me not working today when I mentioned the party after Valerie left on Tuesday. If Alex were the one standing in front of me, it'd take more convincing for me to get my hands on a car. But she's not like her brother and shrugs, gesturing toward a Honda Element two spaces down from where we are.

"They need their tires rotated, you can get started on that."

I glance at it for a second before I'm looking at her again, nodding. I hope she can see how grateful I am that she doesn't ask why I'm here on a day that I'm supposed to be off. The anger is probably etched into the lines of my face but she doesn't ask. I could kiss her for that.

"Thanks," I mumble, starting for it as my hand slides into my pocket, digging out my earbuds. It takes me a couple of seconds to untangle them but as soon as they're free, I jam them into my ears and crank up whatever the hell I left playing.

It sounds a little like Three Days Grace but I don't know for sure and I don't care enough to check. I just get right to work, squatting down next to the beautiful Honda as I inspect it for the damage I know is there. My fingers run across bald spots on the tires and one of them is close to needing to be changed out instead of rotated but whatever. This is what they're paying for and I'm not in the mood to discuss options with customers.

I've gotten the lift arms up underneath the car by the time the song changes and this is something I recognize a little better. It's one by a band I rarely listen to these days but it's a song I should have probably followed the advice of a little better. Causal Sex. When Paulina and I quit dating and just started fucking, this song should have been the advice I followed. But I let my heart and not my nuts do the leading and I think I fell for her all over again during this summer.

The Honda rises on the lift and I watch it until it's high enough that I can get to everything without having to crouch. Alex likes to work on his cars a little lower than I do but I've got a couple inches on him so I guess that makes a difference. Doesn't really matter. As long as I get the job done and can get lost in the feeling of doing things that matter, I don't care.

It takes me a few minutes to get the hubcaps off each of the tires and I lean them against the lift in the order I take them off in. As soon as I lay the last one down, I get to work switching out the tires, letting the music take me back to a time when I didn't give a shit. When Paulina would touch me and my heart didn't care. I let myself get so fucking attached to her since junior year and I don't think I've ever admitted to myself how deep I'm in.

Anastasia's heading my way but she's sidetracked by one of my coworkers asking her a question. She pauses to chat, casting a few glances toward me as I continue to work. The tires switch out easily enough and I'm almost finished putting the last of the hubcaps back on when she comes over to my spot, crossing her arms as she watches me work.

I squeeze the volume buttons on my phone through the thick material of my uniform, just dialing it down enough to where I can hear her if she says something to me. She doesn't so I continue working, spinning the last cap into place before I turn toward her. I glance around the shop before taking out an earbud and meeting Anastasia's stare. "What now?"

My fingers find the lift buttons again and I have to slam my left palm against the brake twice before it catches and I'm able to lower the car back to the ground. As soon as it touches the concrete, Anastasia clears her throat. "My brother's looking for you, in the office."

"Fuck." The word is dragged out of me before I can stop it and I yank my other earbud from my ear, clicking my phone off before I tuck the earbuds away. I scrub one hand down my face before flicking my gaze toward her again. "Did he say why?"

She shakes her head and gestures toward a Ford Ranger on my other side. "No, but whenever you're done, that's all yours if he lets you stay. Transmission needs replacing."

The odds of Alex standing his ground and making me go home are pretty slim but there's always that chance that he will. But if not, that car's mine. I smirk before nodding. "Be right back. Don't let anyone take her." I spare another glance at it. "She looks like an Edith to me. What do you think?"

Anastasia rolls her eyes and gestures toward the office. "Go before I kick you out."

None of the people I work with get the whole naming cars thing and I don't know where I picked it up. I guess it's always been one of those things I do unconsciously. I named my first car Tony before I'd even thought about it. I chose the name Rider for the car I currently own– something Alex let me fix up over the years I've been working here – before I knew it was going to be mine. When Tony was destroyed, Alex just gave Rider to me. He didn't have to ask to know it wasn't me who totaled the first car. I was always careful with Tony cause it was my first car. Alex knew I hadn't been the one to beat that car all to shit but he's never asked so I've never confirmed that sometimes I'm not dad's only punching bag.

Something tells me today's conversation's gonna be about as easy as that one was.


Alex's voice is soft when he calls for me to come in and I think he's tired judging from the bags under his eyes I see as soon as I step inside. I push the door closed behind me and he gestures to the chair across from his with a soft sigh.

I collapse into it, leaning back into the fake cushion that's mostly just plastic stuffed with more plastic. "What's up?" I ask, my eyes straying over the mess in the office. He always says he'll get around to organizing everything one day. But when he goes looking for something, he always knows right where it is. I don't see a problem with how he keeps it.

He meets my gaze for a few seconds before shaking his head. "What are you doing here today? I thought you had a party."

I shake my head, dropping my gaze to his desk, piled high with papers and forms and a few spare car parts. "Nope, that was last night," I respond, hesitating only a second before I add. "Was fucking crazy, you shoulda seen it." I chance a look up at him and a soft smile is playing on his lips.

"I don't know if you know this but seeing you get wasted doesn't sound like fun to me," he says, laughing a little. It's a hollow sound, just something to fill the silence. As soon as the laugh is over, the silence creeps in again, uncomfortably blanketing the both of us.

I huff out a sigh, trying to do something to disturb the quiet. "Yeah, well… you also don't get out much," I say, a pathetic jab at something I know he doesn't care about. He was twenty-five when we met and he was the only person his age that I knew of who wasn't out partying. Even now, almost four years later, he's still the only person under thirty in this town that's not married or at least divorced.

Alex smiles softly, finally meeting my gaze without shying away from it. "Dash… why are you working here? It's your senior year. You should be sending off college applications and working toward your goals. Why are you… why are you spending your time here?"

That knot in my chest earlier is back and it's settled comfortably now, twisting around my arteries and squeezing for every drop of blood I can give up. "Cause," I spit out, trying to keep my breathing even. He knows. He already fucking knows why I'm here instead of 'working toward my goals'. What goals would I have? Other than survive the week and hope this job will always be here when I need it.

I suck in a breath, turning my gaze away from his. "Man, you already know what I'm doing here," I say, with less anger in my tone than I want. I need to sound angry. Because angry people don't break apart when you ask them what their dreams are. "You're not planning on getting rid of me, are you?" I joke even though the only punchline in this room is me.

Alex exhales softly, shaking his head. "No. You know this job is always yours as long as you want it. But…" His teeth chew on the corner of his lip and I hate the silence. The long stretches where I have to wait for him to spit out the same conversation we have every year around this time. He asks the same things each time and he gets the same answers in return. "Don't you think there's something out there that you want more?"

If 'more' means reaching beyond what I'm capable of holding on to, I don't want it. I just want things to stay the same. Well, not the same. I don't want more, I just want things to be better. Easier. I just want to be able to fall asleep without the pounding of my own heart waking me up when doors open and close. I don't want more, I just want different. More is putting too much hope in a dream I buried the day my dad's hand turned to a fist.


A/N: Ahh this was a fun chapter to write. Poor Dash really gets shit from everyone, huh? I should probably feel bad about torturing him so much but... naaaah. Paulina can be kinda cruel when she needs to be. I'm not really in agreement with the reasons why she's doing what she does but she does have her reasons and they'll come out as the story progresses.

Alex was always supposed to be a background character but the more I bring him in, the kinder he is to Dash and the more I want to keep him around. We'll see how that goes though.

The song mentioned in the chapter is Casual Sex - My Darkest Days. I recommend their music to anyone, they're great.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you think of it!