Arya pulls her car into the garage. Gendry is waiting there. He's wearing a fresh work shirt, and it looks like he's wiped some of the grease off of his face.
"Let's have a look then," he says as Arya gets out of the car. But before Arya has a chance to shut the door, Nymeria bursts out of the car and rushes towards Gendry. She pushes him to the ground, pinning him down with the weight of her body and snarling with sharp teeth.
Gendry shouts, "Get 'er off!" He tries to push Nymeria away, but she's too heavy for him.
"Nymeria. Come," Arya says, whistling sharply. After a final growl, Nymeria moves off of Gendry and pads over to Arya, sitting down next to her.
"Sorry," Arya says. "She's protective."
"I didn't do anything."
"Well she didn't know that, did she?" Arya scratches Nymeria behind the ear. "She's just looking out for me."
Shaking his head, Gendry stands up. "Just make sure she keeps away from me, all right?"
"What? Scared of dogs?"
"No, but I am scared of wolves. What breed is that thing?"
Arya shrugs her shoulders. "I'm not sure. My brother found her and five others in an alley when they were pups. My parents let us keep them not knowing how big they'd get."
Gendry shakes his head, muttering "Jesus," before walking around to the front of the car. "Just pop the hood, okay?"
"Sure thing." Arya flips the latch for her hood.
"What the hell?" Gendry is staring inside the car, his eyes round and greedy.
"I might have done some work on it," Arya says, smirking.
"Might have?" Gendry whistles. "There's got to be at least $15,000 easy in this thing." Arya doesn't respond. She sidles around the car so that she's standing behind Gendry. "Look at this engine," he says, "It's got to get you at least-"
Suddenly he stops talking and turns around to face Arya. He looks her up and down slowly with intense blue eyes. She flushes under the close scrutiny. "What's a skinny girl like you doing with a racing car?"
"It was my brother's."
"And he just gave it to you? Do you know how much you could sell this thing for?"
"Why would I want to sell it?" Arya asks defensively. When Jon left home six years ago, he left his car behind too. There was a scrawled note left on the passenger seat that Arya discovered days later: Hey Arya, Mom wouldn't let me take the car, but I wanted to leave it with you anyways. Something to remember me by. Love, Jon. To this day, Arya wonders why Jon left her with his old racing car if he didn't actually want her racing.
"Why would you sell it? What else are you going to do with it? It's not like you need it for racing-" Gendry trails off as he realizes that Arya is staring at him staunchly with crossed arms. He smirks, full lips curving slowly. "You don't race, do you?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business."
Gendry's smile grows wider. "You're telling me that you, a tiny eighteen year old girl,races? Can you even reach the steering wheel?"
"Shut up, stupid!" Arya rushes forward and pushes Gendry hard in the chest with two splayed hands. Unfortunately, he's so tall and broad that the push doesn't do much except make him laugh, blue eyes filled with amusement. "I said it's none of your business," Arya continues. "Now are you going to do your job or not?"
Gendry raises his hands in mock forfeit. Arya wishes she could slap the grin right off of his face. "I'll help," he says. "But I won't get to it until tomorrow. The shop closed an hour ago."
"I'll pay you double, triple," Arya says hurriedly. She can't leave her car in the shop tonight. She needs her car. She'd be lost without it.
Gendry raises an eyebrow. "What's the rush?"
"Triple. Take it or leave it."
He shrugs his shoulders. "Triple it is."
"You're not doing it right. Here, give it to me. Scoot over." Arya sidles up next to Gendry and then tries to snatch the wretch out of his hands. "You've got to be gentle with this engine. It isn't some junkyard piece of-"
"Excuse me, I thought I was the mechanic. Give me that." Annoyed, Gendry yanks the wrench right back from Arya. He has to tug it a few times before he can jerk it from her small hands.
"Are you sure you're a mechanic? Because you're doing it wrong," Arya says.
"I am not."
"You are too." Arya doesn't like other people touching her car. Especially if they're strangers. If she had it her way, she'd kick Gendry out of the garage right now so she could just do the work herself. However, she doesn't think it likely that Gendry would go for that plan. "Look," she says, moving closer to Gendry so that she can reach inside of her car. "You see this part, right here? My brother built it custom. You have to grease it up a little before you mess with it, otherwise it'll get stuck and rip up the-" Arya trails off, suddenly very aware of how close she's standing to Gendry, his tall body hovering over her own, his warm breath raising hairs on the back of her neck. The man is as annoying as he is attractive, and Arya has to take a slow, steady breath before continuing. "It just takes some care. Be gentle with it. It's not a-"
"Machine?" Gendry finishes. "Look, let's compromise. Why don't you grab a stool and watch me work. I understand the car is important to you. I get it, all right?" His blue eyes flash to hers. "But I can't get my job done with you hovering around like this."
Arya chews her lip for a moment before finally relenting. "Fine. But if you do one thing wrong-"
"I won't."
"But if you do-"
"I won't." Gendry's blue eyes continue to stare her down, dark and steady, until Arya finally takes a step back and lets the stubborn mechanic do his job.
For the next hour, Arya paces around the body shop. Every now and then she starts hovering over Gendry until he snaps at her and says, "Away," in a low, rough voice. And then she continues to pace, always looking out of the corner of her eye to make sure Gendry doesn't mess up her car. But his strong hands seem sure and his blue eyes intent.
Eventually Arya relaxes enough to sit down on a bench and watch from a distance. "How long have you worked here?" She asks.
Gendry's voice is muffled as he leans inside Arya's car. "Since I was a boy."
"Was it your father's shop?"
"I don't know my father."
"So your mother's-"
"I don't know her either."
Arya leaves it there, not wanting to probe further. She doesn't like discussing her family life, so she can't imagine why anyone else would. "It's nice," she continues. The shop is filled with bits and parts, piles of old machinery, but everything looks clean and worn, a show of good use.
"Thanks."
She bites her lip before saying, "Do you work on race cars often?"
"Sometimes."
"It's popular in San Diego. Racing." She chews on the corner of her nail. "At least that's what I've heard."
"It is."
Well you aren't much of a talker, are you, Arya thinks. If it was hard getting Jon to talk, it's like pulling teeth from Gendry. Silent, brooding men. The whole lot of them are stupid. "Lots of good streets for it. Long ones. Empty." She looks up. Gendry's head is still bent over the car, his hands fiddling with clinking metal. "Where are the popular streets, you know, for racing?"
For a while, Gendry doesn't respond. The shop is silent save the sound of him tinkering with the car's engine. Arya bides her time. She can tell Gendry isn't a man that can be pushed or rushed into anything.
Eventually, he puts his wrench down and stands up straight, turning around the face Arya. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it up to wipe the grease off of his face. Arya can't help but glance at the revealed, taut muscles. When he drops the shirt and looks to her, Arya's entire face flushes. "What's with the questions?" He asks.
Arya can't meet his eyes. She was never a very good liar, despite years of practice. "Just curious."
"Really." He wipes hands on his apron. "You wouldn't want to be racing yourself, would you? That's not why you're asking."
Arya shrugs her shoulders. "I don't see how it's any of your business."
"I don't know where you're from, but San Diego is dangerous. Racing here is dangerous. I'm not going to let you-"
"Let me?" Arya laughs, short and sharp. "Who do you think you are? My father? My brother? No." She jumps up off the bench and strides toward Gendry. With one finger, she pokes him sharply in the chest. "You're a stranger. A mechanic I met an hour ago. You can't tell me what to do. You can fix my car and then either help me or shut up."
"No, no. You brought me into this the second you opened that scheming mouth of yours. I'm not going to let your idiocy stain my conscience. A little thing like you will get eaten alive on these streets. If you ask to race, they'll laugh at you. And if you somehow manage to get into a race, they'll run you off the side of the road and strip your car of its parts." Gendry lowers his voice and steps closer to Arya. She lifts her chin stubbornly to meet his stare. "If you're lucky, they'll leave it at that, but don't think for a second they're above harming a little girl." His eyes narrow, and Arya feels uncomfortable under his gaze, all her nerves on alert. "I don't plan on aiding with your downfall, Arya Stark."
His argument is so similar to Jon's, that for a moment, Arya is almost convinced. She's fast and she's good. That's a fact. But what makes her think she can just show up in a new city and start racing with the best of them? They won't trust her, and they sure as hell won't like her. "Maybe you're right," Arya says slowly.
"Really?" The concession makes Gendry back up a step, and Arya is thankful for the open space between them. Having him so close was messing with her concentration.
"Don't look so surprised, stupid. I didn't say I'd listen to you. You just made some good points. That's all."
"So what then?"
"I'm going to race. It's not like you could stop me." She looks up. "But maybe you could help me."
"I just said I wasn't going to help you."
"And I just said that wasn't going to stop me. Don't you listen? One way or the other, I'll be racing. It's what I do, and I don't plan on stopping." She bites her lip. "But maybe you could help me. I just need you to introduce me to some people. Show me around. If you work on the cars, you must know the racers. And I'll pay you."
Gendry narrows his eyes. "You sure have a lot of money."
"I win a lot of races." That was only half a lie. Arya did win races, but she didn't get the chance to compete much. Most of her money came from her family. They were pretty well off, even after her father got fired.
But Gendry didn't need to know that. It's not good to show off money around people who don't have it.
"I don't know," Gendry responds. He glances back at Arya's car. "I mean, sure, I know some people, but I'm not- you know I'm not one of them. I'm their mechanic, not their friend."
"How much will it take?"
"I need to see you what you can do first."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm not going to get you into a race without seeing you drive first. I don't want to look like an idiot, now do I?"
"Well, you are an idiot."
"You're not helping your case."
Arya inhales deeply. She doesn't have time to spiral into another stubborn argument with this dumb mechanic. "Finish the car. I'll come back tomorrow night. And I'll show you exactly what I can do."
The motel is acceptable at best. Technically Arya has enough money to stay somewhere nice, but she doesn't know how long it will take for her to start making a profit off of racing, and she doesn't want to run her bank account too low. Especially after paying Gendry almost $2,000 for the work on her car and as a sign of good faith on their agreement. Even though the account belongs to Arya, her parents can look at it whenever they want. She doesn't need a phone call from her father asking how she managed to spend almost $5,000 in a week.
"Come, Nymeria," Arya says. The huge dog jumps out of the car, and Arya rushes her to the front door of the motel room. There's a strict 'no pets' policy, and Nymeria isn't exactly a small Chihuahua that she can tuck in her purse.
As Arya walks inside of the room, the bed immediately catches her eye. She looks at it longingly. She's exhausted. It's been a very long couple of days. She glances at the illuminated clock on the nightstand: 9:45 at night. Usually way before her bedtime, but she's pretty sure she could crawl into bed now and sleep until noon.
Instead, Arya slips her cell phone out of her pocket. She has eight missed calls. One from her father, one from Bran, and six from her mother.
She's tempted to ignore all of them, but the longer she puts off her mother, the worse the repercussions will be. Sighing, she presses the call button. Her mother picks up on the second ring. "Where on earth have you been? I've been calling all day and night. I was worried sick. You can't just make a long trip like that and not check in-"
"I'm sorry," Arya says, trying her best to sound genuine. "I've just been really busy that's all."
"Well that's no excuse."
"I know. I'm sorry."
She can hear her mother take a calming breath. To be fair, raising six kids isn't easy, especially not when one is paralyzed, one gets kicked out of home, and the husband gets fired. Arya can understand why her mother is always stressed, but it doesn't make talking to her any easier. "Well, how is it? Is your roommate nice? When do classes start?"
"It's great. I'm just really busy, so don't freak if I don't call every day, all right?"
"All right, all right. And remember, call your sister. She's nearby, and I know she'd love to see you."
"I doubt that," Arya mutters. She loves Sansa, but they never really got along. Arya spent her childhood working on cars with Jon, and Sansa spent it mooning over boys and dressing up like princesses and pop stars.
"Call her. For me."
"Is dad there?"
"Still at work. I'll tell him you called."
"Okay. Tell Bran too."
"Of course."
"Good-night."
"I love you."
"Love you too." Arya hangs up the phone. She bites her bottom lip. She really hates lying to her parents, but there's really not another option. Hopefully once she gets settled, she'll be able to tell them the truth. But until then, she's depending on their money. And if they find out she's using her savings for racing, that will be the end of that. They'll have her on the next plane home and attending community college within a week.
She tells herself everything will be fine. That her parents love her. That when her mother finds out what she's up to, she wont desert Arya like she deserted Jon.
But sometimes Arya worries that the lies will keep piling up until one day, no matter how hard she looks, she won't be able to find the truth.
A/N – Thank you so much for the great reviews! I'm really enjoying writing this story, so I'm glad you guys are enjoying reading it. How did you like the chapter?
I'll be updating about once a week. Again- thanks for reading!