Fly // Sugar Ray

It's deja vu. I watch, spellbound, as April's wreck barrels into the parking lot with smoke flying like a banner behind her. I think that's the only way she drives it. Props to her for keeping the classic under her command, and she definitely knows how to handle driving it as I've witnessed from all of my stalking. But I'd love to help her work on her finesse. Damn, what a joy ride that would be.

April brings her car to a stop in front of the burger place where we agreed to meet. I've been here for almost an hour, left school the second the bell rang and been fidgeting here ever since. It has crossed my mind more than once that she'd bail, even though this is for her benefit more than mine.

Yeah, that's a lie but one she doesn't know about. I'm going to benefit as much as she is even if she doesn't know it. Although if the girl has been paying any attention at all, my interest in her is clear as a bell. I can't stop my eyes from seeking her out and looking at her. I can't stop my feet from walking towards her. I can't stop my mouth from spewing the stupid lines that fail to interest her time after time.

I sit up straight and paste the fake look of indifference I carry with me back in place as April exits her vehicle. I rub my hands on my jeans, free from grease for the first time in a few weeks, trying to ease the tingle I'm feeling in the tips of my fingers that's driving me nuts. It's the same reaction to her presence every time: an unquenchable desire to get my hands on her. In the most gentlemanly way possible, of course.

April strides in through the door like a dream, pulling her sunglasses off as she steps inside then scans the place with a look of resolve. It surely isn't excitement I see in her eyes, but it isn't dread either. Good thing for me that she doesn't have those daggers she was aiming at me yesterday in the lot. Talk about awkward. I'm still not sure what I said that was so offensive. And I'm certain I don't want to find out.

We make eye contact just seconds after April is all the way inside. I see her stand straight and walk toward me with purpose. Her face is all business and I get the feeling she's arming herself for battle. It's here and now that I decide to take the opposite approach. Honestly, it's what I've been doing since the second she blew up my world, but this time I'm conscious of the decision to be relaxed with her rather than bulldozed by my own attraction to her.

I lean my elbow at the corner of the table and rest my other arm along the back of the booth seat. Then I smile. No smirking with this girl anymore. I want every look she sees from me from now on to be one hundred percent genuine. I'm not an indifferent asshole where she's concerned. I'm as invested, interested and intrigued as any guy who's been exposed to the light could be.

She's my fucking sunshine.

"Hey," I say as April slides into the seat across from me. I gesture to the food and drink on the table. "Take your pick. I decided to let the debt you owe me slide." The light in my eyes won't be dimmed by her dismissal. And even though that makes me sound like a creep in my head, I know there's more to my infatuation than stalking and lust. Something way more that is just out of my reach. I'm not giving up, though. No matter how hard April makes me work for her.

April leans closer to inspect the food. Fries, onion rings and a salad are paired with a large diet Coke and a large regular Coke. I didn't want to assume anything, so I got both. It's a peace offering so I sit back and let her make her choice.

"Salad?" April wrinkles her nose and grabs the fries and regular Coke.

"Not a fan?" I say with a smile as I pull the veggies my way. I'm good with vitamins.

"Not from a burger joint. They don't specialize in greens so what's the point? That's not what I'm here for."

"So, it's not that you are opposed to salad in general, just salad that's made alongside fried foods." My eyebrow twitches as I tease her, snatching an onion ring with a fork.

April watches my fork stab the food and bring it to my mouth. Her bottom lip drops just a touch, just enough to let her vulnerability show. I'm so damn glad to see it again I almost reach out to rub my thumb against that lip. I was starting to wonder if our moment in the shop just a few days ago was in my imagination.

I watch as she catches herself looking at my mouth, a little shake of her head to pull her back to the present from wherever her mind had wandered. Then her eyes narrow enough to show her frustration and I brace myself for whatever is coming next.

"If I'm going to eat a salad, I'd like it without a side of grease. But I know you live for the grease, based on the state of your nailbed at all times, so it figures that burger joint salad would be your jam."

Okay, what? I put my hands in the air, physically surrendering to her logic, and shrug. "Hey, I don't turn my nose up at food. I eat what's in front of me, like my mom brought me up to do." I use my fork to inspect the salad. "Not wilted, no brown edges, crunchy enough and not warm, fresh cheese and those little bacon crumbles. What's not to like?" I wink at her and stab some more of the offending food. I chew for a minute, watching her watch me with a look of confusion on her face. That's new.

"As for the grease," I pause to inspect my fingers, bending them over my palm and twisting my hands side to side before shrugging again. "Occupational hazard."

"High school isn't an occupation." She huffs and then pops a fry into her mouth.

"Wasn't talking about high school."

"So, you work at a garage, too?" April tries really hard to get the interest out of her tone, but I hear it. That caught her attention for some reason.

"If you count the garage at my house, then yeah. I fix up old classics, like yours." I nod toward her car. "Then I sell them for a profit so I can buy the next one and start all over."

April doesn't have a reaction to that, at least not one I can see on her face. She takes a sip of soda then pops another fry into her mouth. After chewing for a minute, something clearly winding through her mind as she does, she pulls a notebook and pen out of her bag.

"Let's get cracking on this stuff. I've got an actual job to get to soon." She opens the notebook to a blank page and writes something across the top in angry, sweeping strokes.

I lean to the side to read it. Stupid Shop Shit is scrawled as the title.

"Tell me how you really feel," I mutter. She doesn't think my restoration gig is a real job and she isn't hiding her hatred of the class we're here to work on. Perfect. I should be golden with this girl by the time I'm dead at this pace. I stab the salad with violence. Rejected.

"Well, it wasn't my idea to take this class in the first place." April looks down at the basket of fries and grabs a couple.

"Where do you work?" I decide to cease fire on my disappointment. It won't get me anywhere with her anyway.

"A hair and nail salon."

"Oh yeah? Not too greasy there, eh?" I laugh. I'm not sure why I keep teasing her but something about the way she bites back is satisfying. And pretty sexy if I'm totally honest.

April is the picture of strength; hardened to a fault, arms crossed, back straight, eyebrow raised...but the shaky breath she releases just before speaking paints a different picture. "No, not greasy at all."

She glances around the place, cataloguing everyone in listening range, or so I suppose. She taps her pen on her notebook in a random pattern, something that could only be caused by nerves.

"You've opened yourself up with this, you know." Her voice is much quieter than it had been.

"With what? Eating sketchy salad at a grease pit? I'll take my chances." I stab another forkful, not sure where she's going with all of the deflecting.

"No. Sitting across from me. In public."

I pause my chewing, fork frozen in place, and watch her. We're in a silent stare off that feels tense. Does she think I'm embarrassed to be seen with her? Or that I should be?

"And?" I say in challenge.

"And," she huffs, "you've already insinuated a connection between us. Everyone knows we have...," she leans closer, "shop together. And now this." April leans back, gestures to the food, and crosses her arms. "Rumors will just accelerate."

"Like napalm." I nod. Challenge accepted.

"Like pestulance," she counters. "You really don't know how bad it will get." April looks down at her fries and suddenly I want to punch someone.

I let the silence hang for a minute before I lean in, just as she did a few minutes ago, and speak so only she can hear me.

"If you tell me yours..." I say, a reminder of that first day in shop. I don't talk about my shit with people, but I meant what I said to her that day. I'll tell her everything. She's not people. April is my fucking sunshine.

I watch the indecision play out over her features. Desire mixed with distrust. This girl needs a reason to trust me so I better deliver. I think I need to tell her mine, first.

"Did Emily spill my dirt yesterday?" I want to know what I've got to clean up before I start this one off.

April cocks her head, "No." Her arms are still crossed but she doesn't feel as closed off as she usually does.

I hold my hands up. "See these?" April shrugs. "They're deadly weapons." April laughs. When I don't finish the joke, she sobers up and looks at me.

"I have a green-black belt in Brazilian Ju-jitsu."

"Green-black? I thought it was just black."

"Common misunderstanding. Black belts are for other martial arts, like karate. Ju-jitsu has levels of black, and when I was fifteen, green-black was the top of my age bracket." I don't bother to tell her that as an eighteen-year-old, my level has advanced because that isn't part of the rumor.

"I competed a lot. Won a few tournaments and titles. My name was in the local paper, online and on the news a few times as well. People around here knew how good I was and what I was capable of."

April's arms have uncrossed and she's started leaning closer as I talk.

"When I was a freshman, a few seniors decided I was a threat to their manhood so they cornered me in the bathroom afterschool and tried to get me to fight them. I didn't want to, told them no and turned to walk out of the bathroom. The guy behind me threw a sucker punch."

Eyes wide, April now has her elbows on the table and she's hanging on every word. "What did you do?"

"I fought back. I defended myself, but I went too far and knocked them out."

"Both of them?"

I nod. Then I wait, because the rest of the story is what keeps everyone at arms length. The rest is why I go it alone. I take a deep breath and finish before I lose my nerve.

"I was arrested for battery. My deadly weapons," I hold up my hands again, "made knocking the guys out a bigger offense because I could have killed them. The charges were upped to attempted murder."

Her jaw drops. "They attacked you, right? Isn't that self-defense?"

"My word against theirs. My public defender paid for by the state against their high priced, high powered lawyer. I lost. Went to juvi for a few months. And now..."

"Now everyone stays as far away from you as they can get." April says the words, but I wonder if she feels that way, too.

I wait. She sits. So, I act.

"You know, the best way to learn about the inner workings of a carburetor is to actually look at a carburetor. Why don't we study the real thing? Come to my garage and I can show you."

I'm not expecting her reply.

Eyes narrow at me with just a little venom infused. "So I can show you mine?"

Nico has problems, more than he realized just sitting across from a girl who seems to loathe him. April has more to say, but next week Nico will find his voice. Ah, this guy melts me... I'm trying to find more time to write and little by little I'm able to carve out some time each day (at least this week) so fingers crossed that the words keep flowing! I've got so many ideas for these two that I can't wait to get them down!!

I love Fly. Such a throw back! Nico just wants that connection "put your arms around me baby..."

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