guy who plays Heath Hall in the movies. Grant James.”
“Who told you that?” I asked.
Amelia laughed. “You know I tell that to everyone with ears.”
Abby smiled. “Me too. And yes I have. He starred in a movie with one of my best friends: Lacey Barnes.”
“Wait, you know Lacey Barnes?” Jackson asked. “That’s what you should be bragging about, Amelia.”
“How is Lacey doing, anyway?” Amelia asked.
“Great. She’s working on another movie and still dating Donavan Lake.”
“Is he famous too?” Jackson asked.
“No, but he’s great.”
“I think this will work,” Cooper said, tugging on the rope and bringing my attention back to the task. “Just let me back up the truck.”
“Sounds good.”
I clutched the steering wheel, ready to direct the truck the right way as soon as it was free of the platform. Amelia, Abby, and Jackson stood off to the side, Jackson chomping on his second donut and Amelia laughing at something he said as they waited for the show to start. Cooper revved the engine. My heart was in my throat. I turned on the music to drown out the sounds of my own breathing that was making me even more nervous. Jackson gave me a thumbs-up—to show support or to show his approval for the Pearl Jam song that now blasted out of the speakers, I wasn’t sure. Or maybe he was giving the go ahead to Cooper because suddenly his truck lurched forward, my cue to give a little gas as well.
The rope tied between the two trucks snapped taut and vibrated with the new tension. My brother’s truck moved forward ever so slowly. At first my whole body relaxed with the motion until a sound so loud I could hear it over the scream of the music—a groaning, a screeching of metal—pierced the air. The underside of the truck was being dragged along the edge of the platform. My first instinct was to slam on the brakes, not wanting to damage the truck. Cooper either didn’t hear the sound or didn’t have the same instinct because he kept moving forward. That’s when two other sounds happened almost simultaneously: first a loud creak, then a bang as the entire platform bent to one side, then collapsed. I bounced in the seat as the truck slammed onto the ground, all four tires finally level. The second sound was a ripping of metal as the front bumper of my brother’s truck was ripped free, flying through the air, and hitting the back of Cooper’s truck, then falling to the ground. That’s when his brake lights flashed and he finally stopped moving forward.
Pressure pushed against my ears, muffling the sound of the music as I stared at that unassuming piece of metal on the ground in front of me. A piece of metal that was sure to ruin my life. This was not supposed to happen. I was supposed to fix this, not shock my parents. And definitely not break my brother’s priceless truck.
Nobody moved. It felt like time had slowed down. The hope of hiding all of this vanished. What had I done?
Images of my parents’ reactions flew through my mind in still frames, each one worse than the last. The final image, the one that stayed as if trying to burn its likeness into my vision was my mom, her arms folded, wearing the face I had seen so often lately: disappointment. No matter what I did, how hard I worked, I could never escape that face. Now it would follow me for the rest of my life.
Something snapped in me. Despite what I’d been saying about how I had changed and I wanted things to be different, until that moment, I had hoped they could at least be close to how they were before. But nothing could be the same after this. Anger coursed through me, anger that had been resting just beneath the surface for a long time.
I tugged open the door and stalked toward the bumper. The music poured out of the open cab behind me, my soundtrack to a breakdown. I thought I heard my name but my ears still felt blocked, pulsing with the sound of rushing blood. Even as I told myself I was overreacting, even as I tried to calm my beating heart, I couldn’t stop myself. I picked up the bumper. It was heavier than it looked and threw me off balance for a moment. I stumbled forward but then righted myself. I lifted it over my head, my shoulders protesting with