I work on four cars – a Mazda, a Ram 1500, a Nissan Pathfinder, and a Mini-Cooper – before Danny shows up. His sleek Hyundai Equus breezes to a stop at the edge of the garage and he climbs out of the driver's seat, swinging his keys around his finger.

A low whistle leaves my lips as I cross the shop toward him. "Damn, Fenton. Didn't realize your wheels were so fucking sweet," I say, looking past him to ogle his car. Damn. Bet his brakes don't squeal when he makes turns.

Danny laughs softly and the sound draws my attention back to his face. "Sorry, it never comes up in regular conversation," he says, dropping his gaze when I look at him.

I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. "Dude. You can always talk to me about cars. They're my fucking life man." The expression on his face makes me laugh and the sound is obnoxiously loud in the quiet of the shop. A few heads turn our way but I ignore them, nodding toward Danny's ride. "So. I don't know if you've ever been to a garage instead of the dealership before but here at Alex's, we take everything seriously. Important questions first."

"Oh, um, the manual is in the glove box if you want me to grab that for you," he stammers, half-turning back toward his car. He tilts his head to one side when he looks back at me.

"What's her name?" I ask, gesturing to the Equus when he seems confused. Like I could be talking about anything else. He didn't bring a girl here; what else would I be talking about? He still looks like he has no idea what I'm talking about so I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Your car," I stress.

"Uhh… it's a Hyundai," he says softly, frowning when he meets my stare. "I-I don't know much about it. I have all the information in the glove box." He starts when I raise an eyebrow. "Wh-What?"

He really isn't listening to me. "Dude. The name of your car," I pause for a second before folding my arms across my chest. "You have named her, right? Don't tell me she's nameless."

Danny gives me a funny look, tilting his head to the side again, like he can't believe I'm even asking this question. More people should name their cars and save me the trouble. "Does everybody name their cars?"

I roll my eyes and start for the Hyundai, listening to his hesitant footsteps as he follows after me. "No," I respond, glancing over my shoulder when I reach the driver's side door. "But you should know that I name all of the cars I work on. So, yours is getting a name whether you like it or not." I open the door and pop the hood open, marveling at the sheer beauty of it. "Took Val a couple of months to come around to the name of her car but you'll get used to it eventually."

Danny crosses his arms as he stops at the side of his car and I slam his door closed again before crossing in front. I slowly lift the hood, wondering how I've never noticed his car before. It's such a sweet set of wheels, I should have seen it in the school parking lot before now.

"How long have you had this car?" I ask, looking up toward him. This thing looks brand fucking new. If he tells me it's been a while and he hasn't changed the oil or something, I might throttle him.

He shrugs, keeping his stare away from me. "Um… a couple of months, I think?" he says, more like a question than a statement and I wonder how sure he is about it. If it's been any longer, I'll kill him for not taking care of it.

"Alright. What are you bringing it in for?" I drop onto my forearms as my eyes peruse the beautiful engine. It's too hot but I want to reach out and touch it, feel the warm metal underneath my fingers. If it wasn't gonna burn me, I probably would.

"I uh… I-I kinda ran over something last week so I think the tires are losing air," he says softly, turning away from the back tire when I look up at him. Heat floods his face but there's something almost like shock in his eyes.

I frown and he looks away from me, his shaky hands disappearing as he crosses his arms. I don't want to know that he's shaking or that he's scared. I hate feeling like that but I hate seeing it on him even more. It reminds me of when I'd panic and mom would try to calm me down. There wasn't much she could do and it'd only make dad angrier.

"It's fine, Danny," I mumble, rising from the car. I slam the hood and take a step toward him, reaching out for the keys. I keep distance between us but I want to squeeze his shoulder or something. Offer some pathetic form of reassurance. "I need the keys."

He looks up at me and hesitates a few seconds before he uncrosses his arms, holding the keys out to me. I quickly step away from him and climb into the driver's seat. The engine fucking purrs when I twist the keys into the ignition. Oh god, I'd kill for a car like this. Something that responds easily to my every touch. Then again, I wouldn't trade Rider for anything. It's got shitty breaks but it's as much a part of me as football is.

I park the car on the other side of a Honda Odyssey and climb out, setting the keys on my work table. "So, let me get it up on a jack and I'll take a look at it." I gesture across the shop. "Waiting area's over there if you want to stick around." I glance back toward him. "Unless someone's coming to get you."

Danny shakes his head and darts a look at the stool next to my toolbox at the head of the bay. He points to it before looking up at me. "Can I sit here?" he asks. Valerie never asks anymore so I'm not able to turn her down. But Danny doesn't seem like the type to bug me while I'm working so I nod before turning back to the lift. It hitches twice before it rises from the pavement and his car's almost to my chest.

I check to make sure the lift is locked into place before I move to the other side, taking a look at the tire he was gazing at. I can hear air whistling out of it and I wonder how the fuck he managed to drive it here in this state. "Jesus, Fenton," I mumble more to myself than to him.

He leaves the stool and comes to stand by me, crossing his arms as I stare at the tire. "Wh-What is it?" he asks, like he can tell how to fix the problem just by looking at it. I can, but he probably can't.

"It's blown," I tell him, standing back with an exhale. How was he able to drive it all the way here without running off the road? With the rate it's losing air, there's no way he's been driving this for a week. "What the hell happened?"

Danny slowly shrugs, casting his eyes away from my face. "Um… I-I told you, I ran over something last week. I-It was just lying in the middle of the road. I didn't think it hurt anything b-but I guess it kinda did?"

I roll my eyes, stepping past him. It bugs the shit out of me that his car apparently defies all logic. It's that or he's lying about what happened. Still. He mentioned bringing his car by on Monday. There's no way it would have lasted that long in this state. "I'm gonna check the other tires too before I get you an estimate," I tell him, crouching down next to the front tire. It looks perfectly untouched and fuck, these tires look almost brand new.

"I-Is something wrong?" Danny asks, interlacing his fingers together as he slowly follows me around to the other side of the car.

"No," I respond, checking over the other two tires. They look fine and I have no fucking clue why it would have only hit one back tire. Normally it's the other way around. If there's something in the road, it hits the front tires first. They take the brunt of the object, not the back. "Where were you driving?"

Danny doesn't say anything in the silence and I run my fingers along the tread. It's spotless. Completely fucking spotless. What the hell?

I rise from my crouched position, dusting my hands on the ass of my uniform. "Probably gonna cost you at least a few hundred bucks today. I think we carry Hyundai tires but I'll have to check the supply room." I flick my gaze toward Danny and he's staring at the pavement with a screwed up look on his face. "Be back in a second."

Danny nods and I leave him standing there, moving quickly through the shop to find Alex. He's talking to another mechanic – Eric Richards – but he pauses mid-sentence when he sees me. I come to a stop next to him and he spares a quick look back at Eric. "Sorry, give me a minute."

He waits for Eric to go back to his car before he turns to me, his expression letting me know he's worried. I jerk my thumb toward Danny's car, the scent of gasoline reaching me. "Do we have to order some Hyundai tires or are there still some in the back?" I look over my shoulder at the car before turning back toward Alex. "For an Equus."

Alex glances past me to where I left Danny and he nods. "We still have a few in the back. I'll get one for you," he says, eyeing my bruises again. I let him step past me and follow behind him.

"I'll be getting the tire off, just bring it over when you find it," I tell him, gesturing toward the car. I watch him disappear into the back of the shop before returning to Danny. He looks up when I approach him and he slowly leaves the stool, his hands clenched around his phone.

My eyes stray toward Danny for a few seconds before I focus on the car, grabbing my wrench. "Gonna cost you at least three seventy today," I tell him, moving back to his side of the car. I brush past him and his cold fingers touch the inside of my wrist in the closeness. He flushes at the contact and I stand next to the tire, already loosening the lug nuts in the silence.

I look toward Danny, holding the lug nuts out toward him. Before the words are even on my tongue, I know what I'm doing. "Can you hold these for me?" When someone offers me a distraction from whatever's fucking with my head, I usually jump at the chance to take it. If Fenton's anything like me, he'll do the same.

Danny looks up at my voice and nods, pocketing his phone again before taking the greasy parts from me. They clink together in his hands and I return to the tire. I remove two more, passing them both to Danny, before I have to pull the tire off. The pressure on my ribs as I twist the tire is too much and I lose my breath. I suck in one immediately after and it sounds like I'm dying. Danny takes a step closer to me at the noise and I do my best to wave him off. I give it another go and my ribs beg me to stop trying. Fuck, why do they still hurt this bad?

"Do you need help?" someone asks me and I look up, meeting Alex's stare across the car. He's already leaned the other tire against the stool and is watching me, hovering. Like he knows I won't be able to do this simple thing on my own. Because I'm too fucking weak to handle a little bit of pressure on my bruised ribs.

I let out a breath and take a step away from the car, turning my back toward it, as I scratch at the back of my head. Fuck. I hate feeling weak. I hate anyone seeing me fail. I've always been this fucking pathetic, why am I still surprised? Why do I still think I'm capable of more?

My fingers knot in the back of my hair and the grip I have on my hair turns painful after a few seconds but it's keeping me grounded. Reminding me I'm in the shop and not in my car or bedroom where I can fall apart like a fucking mess.

"Dash," Alex says softly, his fingers gentle as he touches my shoulder. I don't want to shy away from the touch but I take a step forward, keeping my back to him and Danny. Fuck, I can't let either of them see me like this. It's pathetic. It's so fucking pathetic. "Why don't you get a drink for you and Danny?" he asks softly, holding a five-dollar bill out to me.

I can't look at him. I slowly drop my hand from my hair and take the money from him. I turn on my heel and start for the waiting area. I try to keep my eyes forward but I can't stop myself from looking toward Danny and his expression is worried. Great. Just what I need. Someone else to worry about me. self.

The waiting area's empty when I step inside and I let the door swing shut behind me, my footsteps loud in the silence. I have to straighten the bill on the side of the vending machine twice before the damn thing takes and I notice my fingers shaking as I press the buttons. Goddammit, stop. Just stop fucking shaking. Stop being pathetic.

I slam my open palms against the vending machine, trying to just get a fucking grip already. Failure is nothing new to me, it really shouldn't mess with my head the way it does. But god. The way Danny looked at me as I was leaving. He probably thought I was going off the fucking deep end or something. Who reacts the way that I do? Who else is this goddamn weak?

The door opens behind me and I turn toward the noise. Alex steps inside and lets the door shut behind him. He hesitates for a second before clicking the lock into place. A bead of sweat rolls down my back and I clear my throat, turning toward the vending machine again.

I gather up the change and snatch the Coca-Cola from the dispenser, shoving quarters in with my thumb to get a drink for myself. I punch in the familiar number for Dr. Pepper and wait while the machine spits it out.

"Dash."

The soda hits the bottom of the dispenser and I shove my hand through the flap, grabbing the can. The cold clings to my palm and I hold it in one spot until it starts to burn. The more it hurts, the better. At least this way, it gives me something other than my stupid shaking hands to focus on.

"Dash, it's okay," Alex says softly and I can't take it. Not again. Not from him. I turn toward him suddenly and he raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

"Stop," I spit. I can't stand here and listen to him tell me that I'm okay. That I'm fine. Normal people don't react this way. Normal people can be fucking grownups and not let everything get under their skin. "Just stop, Alex. I'm fine."

Alex holds my gaze and I look away. I try to step past him but he grabs my upper arm. "Dash," he says, firmer this time. He won't let go of me so I look back at him. I don't want to hear him tell me that my reaction is anything other than what it is. Pathetic. I can't even take a fucking tire off a car cause my lungs are too fucking weak to handle it.

"You're okay," Alex says softly, moving his hands to my shoulders. He squeezes gently, forcing me to stay looking at him. "Don't think about it. Not even for a second. You're okay. It's okay."

How the fuck is it okay? I react like a fucking child when things are a little too difficult for me. I guess it's a good thing I'm never going anywhere other than here after high school. A normal boss would rather fire me on day one than put up with my stupid shit.

"It's not okay," I hiss out, trying to move out of his hold. He only responds by stepping between me and the door before his hands are back on my shoulders. I let out a long sigh. "Jesus Christ, Alex. I have a car to finish."

"This is more important," he responds, silently pulling me into a hug. He's got a little height on me so my chin rests on his shoulder when he pulls me against him. I feel weaker like this. Even more pathetic. And it isn't the first time this has happened. I can't handle situations so I let Alex hold me and pretend that he can fix all my fucked up pieces. All of my jagged, sharp edges. Every ugly bit of me, I fool myself into thinking that Alex can make better.

I close my eyes as his arms wrap around my frame and I keep mine hanging by my sides. The cold from the sodas is still seeping into my skin and I focus on that. Not the warmth of his touch or the way he whispers that I'm okay or some other bullshit. If I was okay, I wouldn't be such a fucking wreck.


Alex offers to finish working on Danny's car for me but I'm not that useless. I can handle a damn car. It's about all I can handle most days but whatever. Better than nothing.

Danny leaves the stool when he sees me approaching and I wordlessly hold the coke out toward him. His fingers tremble when he takes the can from me and I'm quick to pull back. I don't want him to accidentally touch me and pick up on the fact that my fingers are trembling too. It'd only remind me that I'm still just as pathetic now as I was five minutes ago.

Alex's already put the tire onto the car but he's left the lug nuts for me to finish. Perfect. At least I don't have to call him back over here to do the hard part. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?

"A-Are you okay?" Danny asks, his voice quiet like he's afraid to voice the question. I push a sigh between my teeth and nod, already knowing that he won't take that as an answer. Something tells me he'll ask if I'm sure.

Surprisingly, he stays silent and I tighten the lug nuts before easing the car from the hydraulic lift. It takes a second before the lift gives and the car starts to ease back down toward the pavement. As soon as it touches down, I gesture toward the front where the registers are. "I'll ring you up." I don't have to. I could easily pass him off and let Stephen or Eric ring him up. But I've already done my share of passing work off to other people today.

Danny follows behind me and I punch in a few keys on the register, telling it what Danny's trip today was for. One single tire. Which still doesn't make sense to me but whatever, it's fixed now. That's all that really matters.

"Your total comes out to an even four hundred with the cost of tire and labor," I say, leaning forward to indicate the machine on the counter. "If you're paying with debit, swipe your card here. Or fill out a check and I'll wait."

Danny reaches into his back pocket for his wallet and pulls out his card, sliding it into the machine. As he puts his card away, the register spits the receipt out toward me and I fold it, passing it off to Danny. I'm about to tell him 'thanks for your business and also for not looking at me like I'm fucking crazy when I had to take a break cause things were a little too difficult for me' but he talks first.

"Can I get your number?" he asks, surprising me by holding my stare when I look up at him. His cheeks turn a little pink and I wonder if it's from the heat. Alex keeps meaning to get the air conditioner looked at but there's never any time.

"Uhh…" I scratch at the back of my head, wondering why the hell he's asking me for my number. He told me to text him when I was gonna be back at the shop but I told him that in person so I really have no need to message him at all anymore. Is this his roundabout way of asking to be friends? Sorry Fenton. My life is way too fucked up to drag another innocent person into.

"Because… if I'm going to tutor you in algebra, I'll probably need to text you and let you know when I'm available. That way we don't have to plan everything in advance," Danny says, his gaze dropping from my face. He shrugs a little before meeting my eyes again, pushing his hair out of his face. "Just a thought though. You don't have to."

Actually, it doesn't sound bad. Not having to track him down every time I'm about to have a meltdown due to the sadistic subject of math sounds nice. I hold my hand out toward him. "Gimme your phone." Danny hesitates a second before passing the device over to me. I tap the contacts and enter my information. It's strange to type my own name so I erase it and put 'mechanic' instead. Might make him laugh later. I click the screen off and pass it over to him again. He takes it with a small smile.

"O-Okay, I'll send you a text or something later. We'll figure out a day we can meet for the first tutoring," he says, nodding once before he starts for his car.

I lean my forearms on the counter and watch Danny back out of the shop. His car engine is practically silent as he zips out of the parking lot and I spend more time than necessary watching the road he disappeared down.


From: Paulina

Don't worry about how late you can come by. I can sneak you out in the morning 3

The heart throws me for a second but I climb into my car, backing out of the parking lot without a second look toward the shop. After Danny left, I changed the oil on a Ford F-150 before I asked Alex if I could cut out early. He asked if I was okay at least twice more but he let me go. He'll probably text me again tonight, wanting to know the same thing. Sometimes I wish he wouldn't care about me. It'd make things easier.

I ease my Mitsubishi to a stop at the red light and pick up my phone from the passenger seat. I stare down at the heart, wondering what changed her mind. What made Paulina decide that she wanted to keep doing this? Us. Whatever the hell we are now. What got into her head since Saturday?

To: Paulina

On my way now

I'd ask her if she wants me to bring anything but I know she has condoms in the top drawer of her dresser underneath the red Victoria's Secret underwear I got for her last Christmas. She only wears them on special occasions. Would she wear them tonight if I asked her to?

The drive out to her house is quiet because I don't bother to turn the radio on. I don't know when her parents are supposed to be home but the driveway only has her Volkswagen Bug when I pull up. I kill my engine and open my car door. I probably could have brought some flowers by but it's just been sex between the two of us for so long, it feels awkward to bring anything for her.

I knock on the glass of her screen door and look around at her neighborhood. It feels like the party was last night and I should be waking up in her bed still. If I could rewind time, maybe I could have said something or done something to change everything. If Paulina hadn't kicked me out when I first got up, what time would I have gotten home? Would dad still have been around to kick the shit out of me?

Her door opens and I force myself to stop thinking about dad. About everything Paulina said to me the last time I was in her bed. None of that matters right now. Not when she's leaning against the doorframe, crossing her sexy legs at the ankles as she looks at me. Her eyes are half-lidded and she's biting her bottom lip.

"Hey you," she breathes and everything else leaves my mind. My body reacts to her voice and I move toward her. My hands are on her hips and then our mouths are together. Her lips move against mine and I think one of us pushes the door closed. I don't know. All I know is the feeling of stairs underneath my feet as I carry her up them, leaving kisses on her collarbones.

This is what I need. She helps me forget. Every time we're tangled together with our hearts pounding so fucking loud that I can't hear anything else, I forget. Everything fades away and it's just her body on mine, moving to a pace only we know.


A/N: Woo hoo, more interaction between the boys! Unfortunately, Dash has yet to realize just how much he wants Fenton but I assure you, it will happen. No one can resist the adorable cutie. Also can you believe it, Dash finally got a hug!

It's been a while since I mentioned a song but the title of this chapter comes from the song 'Perfect' by Simple Plan. That song really reminds me of the relationship Dash has with his father. It's all about trying to please someone that'll never accept your best. It hits close to home for me but for Dash as well. If you haven't heard it, give it a listen!

There is a playlist for this story, available on 8tracks (.com) but I'm not sure how to link it to you guys. As if right now, if you go onto 8tracks and search for 'Stay', it's the first one to come up. Let me know what you think about the playlist, yeah? I'm always up for talking about music.

Thank you to everyone reviewing and especially those of you saying that the portrayal of abuse in this story is realistic. When I first started thinking up this story years ago, I knew I wanted to have "down time" between each explosion from Dash's father. I try to keep most of my writing as close to realism as I can get and I'm really happy that you all appreciate that. It means a lot to me to read your thoughts and feelings in the reviews, thank you for doing so. Please tell me what you liked about this chapter and I hope you continue to enjoy!