He picked up a rock and threw it hard against the backboard. It made a satisfying thwack, rebounded and almosthit him in the head. Obviously, his mom hadn't told Jack yet. Nathan had just assumed that she'd told himalready or he never would have walked into that garage today. After all, that's why she was here. To tell Jackabout him. At least, that's why she'd said she was coming here.
He moved back across the field toward the opening in the chain link fence. He was pretty mad at his mom, andfeeling really stupid. Plus, he had to figure out a way to get his board back. Maybe he'd just let Jack keep itbecause he really didn't want to walk back into the garage and ask for it back. Not now.
The grass beneath his black skater shoes squished and he figured the sprinklers had been on that morning.
Water droplets collected on the leather toes of his shoes and he watched them roll off. His mom should be backfrom the hospital by now. He had to tell her where he'd been. She'd probably get mad at him, but he didn't reallycare. The more he thought about it, the madder he got at her. If his mother had told Jack, or at least told Nathanthat she hadn't, he wouldn't have gone to the garage and made such a dick weed out of himself.
When he looked up, he noticed a girl walking toward him a few feet away on the other side of the fence.
Through the links he could see that she had shiny dark hair and smooth tan skin like she spent time sunbathing.
They met at the opening at the same time, and he stepped aside to let her go through first. Instead, she stoppedand stared at him.
"You're not from around here. I know most everyone, but I've never seen you," she said with a definite Texastwang, drawing out her words. She had big brown eyes, and beneath one arm she held poster board andconstruction paper.
"I live in Washington," he told her.
"Washington, D.C.?" She said it like his mother and grandmother did. Like there was an r in the word "wash."
She wore a blue T-shirt with the words Ambercrombie and Fitch in silver glittery letters. She was a prep, and hedidn't like preppie girls. Girls who shopped at Ambercrombie and Fitch and The Gap. Goodie-two-shoe girls.
"No. State."
"Are you here visitin' someone?"
No, he had no use for preppie girls... but she had the kind of lips that made him think of kissing. Which he'dbeen thinking about a lot lately. "Yeah, my grandma, Louella Brooks, and my aunt Lily." He'd kissed one girl inthe sixth grade, but he didn't think that counted.
A frown pulled at her brows. "Lily Darlington?"
"Yep."
"Ronnie's cousin Bull is married to my aunt Jessica." She laughed. "We're practically related."
He doubted that made them related at all. And what the heck kind of name was Bull? "What's your name?"
"Brandy Jo. What's yours?"
Despite being a prep and having a drawl, Brandy Jo was hot. The kind of hot that made his stomach feel fuzzyand his chest feel heavy and made him think about how complicated girls were. And it was at these times, whenhe was thinking about girls, that he missed his dad the most "Nathan," he answered. A guy just couldn't ask hismother about certain stuff.
She studied him a moment and her gaze lowered to his lip. "Did that hurt?"
He didn't have to ask her what she was talking about. "No," he answered and hoped his voice didn't crack. Hehated when that happened. "I'm getting a tattoo next."
Her big brown eyes rounded and he could tell she was impressed. "Your parents will let you?"
No. He'd have to get it without his mother knowing somehow. A few months ago they'd made a deal, he couldkeep his lip ring if he promised to never get a tattoo as long as he lived. He'd promised, but he figured he onlyhad to keep his word until he was eighteen and old enough to get one himself. Tattoos were cool. "Sure."
"Where?"
He pointed to his shoulder. "Right there. I don't know what I want yet, but when I do, I'm definitely getting atat."
"If I could get one, I think I'd get a little red heart on my hip."
Which Nathan thought was pretty lame and really girly. "That'd be cool." He dropped his gaze to the posterboards beneath her arm. "What are you doing with that stuff?"
"I'm gonna teach city-rec art classes to little kids this summer. It's gonna be a lot of fun, and I'll get paid five-seventy-five an hour."
Teaching art to little kids didn't sound like a lot of fun to Nathan, but getting paid five-seventy-five an hour wassweet. He quickly did the math in his head and figured that if a kid worked five hours a day, five days a week,he could make around five hundred and seventy dollars in one month. He could buy a lot of CDs or new boardtrucks with that kind of money.
A black Mustang pulled alongside the curb on the other side of the fence, and Nathan watched Jack Parrish getout. He pushed his cowboy hat up his forehead and gazed at Nathan over the top of the car. "You forgot yourboard at the garage."
Jack didn't look so scary this time, but the fuzzy feeling in Nathan's stomach got worse. Like when he rode theZipper too many times at the Puyallup fair. "Yeah."
Brandy Jo looked from Nathan to Jack then back again. "See ya around."
Nathan glanced at her. "Okay, see ya." As she walked away, he returned his attention to the man both his momand dad said was his biological father. As far as Nathan could see, he didn't look much like Jack.
"I took your skateboard to your grandmother's."
Nathan stepped through the opening in the fence and stood next to the passenger door. If the feeling didn't goaway, he was afraid he'd get sick. And he really didn't want to do that. "Was my mom home?"
"Yes. She and I talked." He rested a forearm on the top of the car "She said you've always known that I'm yourfather."
"Yeah." He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. He didn't know why he felt so weird. It wasn't likehe cared what Jack thought. He'd gone to the garage earlier out of mild curiosity. That was it. He didn't carewhat anyone thought. "I've known."
"Well, I'm glad that at least she didn't he to you." Jack looked at the watch strapped around his wrist and tappedhis fingers three times on the top of the car. "Do you want a ride home?"
"Okay." Nathan waited for Jack to unlock the door, then he climbed inside. He sat in the soft beige leather seatand his stomach churned a little bit more. He didn't know what this car was worth, but a lot more than hismom's stupid minivan back in Seattle. That's for sure. "Is this a Shelby?"
"Yep. It's a nineteen-sixty-seven GT 500."
Nathan didn't know that much about Mustangs except that if you were going to have one, this was the one.
"What's the engine?" he asked as he shut the door.
"The original 428 Police Interceptor"
"Tight."
"I like it." Jack shifted, glanced behind him, then pulled back out onto the street.
"How fast will it go?"
"A hundred and thirty-two. Of course that's nothing compared to the Daytona. How fast did you say it wasclocked on the closed course?"
"Two hundred on the closed course. One-eighty right out of the showroom in nineteen sixty-nine."
Jack laughed and moved his hand from the steering wheel to shift again. "You know, Billy could use some helpwith that Barracuda that's in the shop. Since you're here for a while and going to own a Daytona someday, youmight want to give him a hand with that Hemi."
Was he kidding? Nathan would crap all over himself just to touch a Hemi. "That could be cool, I guess. But Idon't know how long I'm gonna be in town."
Jack looked over at him, the shadow of his hat fell across his nose. "We'll talk to your mom and see how longyou're going to be here." He turned his attention back to the road and shifted the big engine into third. "Ofcourse, just 'cause you're family doesn't mean we can pay you more than the other guys."
Pay? As in earn money working on a Hemi? He'd crap all over himself twice. Nathan looked down at the chainhanging from one loop of his pants. He cleared his throat and bobbed his head a few times. "Sweet."