Chapter 2

That shook Billy from his stupor and he straightened, alarm etching his face. “It’s bad?”

The greaser in the black leather jacket finally stopped walking and talking long enough to look him in the eyes. His gaze softened and, for a moment, Billy’s panic began to subside.

“Well,” he started, his eyes fixed on Billy’s, “it’s fixable. At least you’re okay, right? Hell, it’s probably drivable as it is, but you’ll need to get it pulled out of here.”

Anxiety filled Billy as he thought about what his father would say. It certainly wouldn’t be anything like, “Glad you’re not hurt.” More like, “Idiot. Loser.” And of course, he would let everyone know that he had known that Billy would wreck the car within days of getting it. His eyes fluttered closed as he pictured his father seated in his favorite wingback chair in the living room, surrounded by his rich, stuffy colleagues.

“I knew giving my screw-up son a car for graduation was a mistake. Should have saved the money.”