He's the guy moms warn their daughters about. Bold, outspoken, and self-confident, Brian O'Brien returns to his hometown only to discover some things changed in his absence.
Brian has a new neighbor - a shy, smart girl Leah, who hates his guts since...
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I'm relieved it's Friday. Pops' business is thriving, which leaves me with no free time. For the last five days, I've been working almost till midnight. I had to replace handlebars and levers, but a couple of bikes needed consumable parts that were impossible to find in our town, and I ordered them from the city.
I clutch the package I've just received and hop on my bike to go back to the garage. They could've delivered everything there, but those fuckers and work simply don't mix. Having to waste time bugs me, although I only have an oil change scheduled. Then, I'll be free to work out or hang out at The Temple.
Fat Boy rolls into our yard ten minutes later. I park it and make my way to the shop, frowning at the picture I see inside.
Pops isn't alone — at least ten dudes are with him, and the convo seems heated. I recognize Bill and other men who have small businesses in town.
"What's going on?" I ask as I stroll in and leave the parts on a shelf.
"We're discussing local issues, Son," Dad answers.
"What issues?"
Bill sighs. "The mayoral elections. Martin's one of the candidates, and we're worried about the support he's receiving."
"Martin, Martin..." I mumble, trying to recall who the dude is. Then, it hits me. "Martin, as in Gavin's father, who lives in the mansion?"
"That's the one," Bill says. "He started his campaign already, and he's bragging about having the support of the underrepresented minority. Giving poor folks money to ensure they vote for him is low. The roads are shitty; the job opportunities are scarce. We need a change, and Martin isn't the man for the job. He's never talked to people out there, and now he's suddenly an advocate for the least fortunate."
Bill's words are met with an avalanche of nods and create a commotion. The news is shitty. We haven't had a decent governor in years, and unless you have a business, there isn't much else to do here. Only a few of us stayed after we graduated from high school. I can't blame those who left, but it's sad when you do it because you won't have anything if you stay.
I work on my client's bike, listening to snippets of conversations. Gavin's father isn't popular with people like us, but it doesn't mean the rest won't believe his empty promises.
Getting the info out of my head is hard, especially when my mind goes into its usual over-analyzing mode. Partly it's because of the way I am — I can't leave the issue alone until I've learned everything about it.
I almost smack my forehead with the wrench I'm holding when I think about Ferdinand and his interest in a girl like Kitten. What if he needed someone to clean his daddy's image after he supported the dude who molested Annie? And what if the money he gave Kitten's mother was his way to make sure they'd vote for him? I wouldn't be surprised in either case, but each scenario is sickening.
"Are you done, Son?" Pops asks when everyone has left, and I'm finishing tidying up.
