Slow Dance in Purgatory(33)

“I’ve got a mandatory dance rehearsal today,” Maggie fibbed, trying to hold Shad’s gaze and look regretful. “We’re getting ready for a big competition, and it’s going to be a beast.”

Shad looked crestfallen, so she quickly added, “A movie and popcorn sounds fun – the kissing part, not so much.“ Maggie grinned to soften her smack down. “Come over tomorrow night, okay?”

“Oh, man!” Shad whined, his afternoon plans blown. Maggie steeled herself against the guilt. He perked up suddenly. “Maybe I can come along, you know, play a little b-ball in the gym?”

“The car’s running bad and I’m taking my bike – so unless you want to hitch a ride on my handlebars, I’m afraid not.” Maggie fervently prayed he’d walked to her house instead of riding his own bike.

Shad rose from the couch, dejected and sulking just a little. Maggie breathed a small side of relief and grabbed her jacket, preceding him out the door.

“You’re not wearing those jeans to dance in, are you?” Shad asked doubtfully. “Not that your booty ain’t kickin’ it – but…”

Maggie winced at her blunder. “Thanks for reminding me. And keep your eyes off the booty, please – I forgot my bag.” Maggie turned and raced into the house, shutting the door on Shad so he wouldn’t follow her back in.

Maggie grabbed up her duffle and was back in seconds. She waved to Shad as she pedaled off towards the school. When she glanced back at him he was ambling toward home, a small figure with big feet and a bowed head.

***

Pulling around the back of the school, Maggie walked her bike to the service bay and tried to calm her breathing. She told herself she was out of breath from riding her bike at full speed for two miles. She told herself it had nothing to do with anticipation. She lied. She tried the door and it rose with a rattle and a rumble and not much effort. Stepping inside, she pulled the door down and locked it behind her. It wouldn’t provide much warning if the mechanics teacher decided to drop by on a Saturday, but it made her feel better.

“I found the problem,” Johnny spoke from underneath the car but rolled out on a wheeled platform as she approached; he must have located that little gizmo after she left.

“I took the transmission apart.” Johnny rose and stood over a neatly laid out assortment of various objects that Maggie couldn’t identify. “You got rings, O-rings, papers, seals, clutches…” He labeled everything, pointing it out as he talked. “Everything needed replacing. The whole thing was bad. So I waited until this morning– it is morning, isn’t it?”

It would be morning for another twenty minutes or so, and Maggie nodded, awed, as he continued.

“I waited until this morning to let everything absorb as much of the school’s energy as possible before I used my…mind tricks,” he grinned at her as he used her phrase, “and repaired everything. Now I just have to put it all back together, remove the excess transmission fluid, and you’re good to go.”

He was ebullient, his face relaxed in a satisfied smile, his hands tossing the wrench back and forth between them. He was also perfectly clean – not a grease stain to be found on his hands or his clothes.

“You’re amazing!” Maggie cried, overjoyed. “Aunt Irene is going to be so relieved. I’ll have to think of something to tell her…maybe convince her that she should wait a week before taking it to Gene’s – or tell her I think it’s working much better.” Maggie schemed out loud.

Johnny’s face fell the tiniest bit. “I didn’t think of that. I guess you can’t very well tell her your invisible friend fixed her car.”

“No… I guess not.” Maggie approached him then, and moving quickly, before she lost her courage, she slipped her arms around his lean torso. She hugged him tightly, resting her cheek briefly on his chest.

“Thank you, Johnny. I can’t thank you enough,” she said softly.

He was frozen for several seconds, his hands paused in mid-air, the wrench dangling from the fingers of his left hand. Then, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around her and held her for several heartbeats. The silence around them became thick and heady, and Maggie thought she might drown in the pleasure of it. Then Johnny released her and took a step back. With a dizzying flash he was back under the car.

“Can I help you?” Maggie asked after a minute. “Maybe hand you parts or something?”

“Sure. Clutch – “Johnny’s hand shot out from under the car, palm up, waiting.

“Which is which, again?” Maggie wrinkled her nose in confusion as she stared at the collection of parts.

Johnny laughed from under the car. “How about you just keep me company? Just talk to me. I can handle the transmission all by myself.”

“Sounds like a plan – so what should we talk about?” Maggie situated herself, legs criss-cross, on the floor next to the car where she could study his face while he worked.

“What’s ‘Team Edward?’”

Maggie’s laughter pealed out in surprise.

“Long, long story. No real team involved. Edward is just a hot guy.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Maggie squirmed, wondering what she had said. After a moment, Johnny spoke, but his voice was decidedly frosty.

“And hot means…cool, right?”