I stopped at Bob's convenience store on the way home to buy some ingredients for my bake sale cupcakes, my stomach churning with every note the cashier counted out.

Twenty dollars. Twenty dollars spent on ingredients I wasn't even going to get to eat myself. I tried not to let my irritation show as I thanked the cashier and headed back towards the dinosaur.

I could have just bought some ready made cupcakes and passed them off as my own—it certainly would have been cheaper—but doing so was the kind of deception I spent my life trying to avoid.

My father had been the master of deception, breezing through life on the backs of others, manipulating and deceiving people into giving him what he wanted, and when they didn't, he outright took it instead. I'd been forced to grow up using both him and my mother as examples of what not to do in life, and even something as simple as lying about making cupcakes was more like my father than I ever wanted to be.

No, I might have been broke now that the last of my wages had gone on cake mix, but at least I was broke and honest.

I slid into the driver seat of my truck, placing my shopping bag beside me before I quickly pulled out onto the main road, knowing I only had an hour to get washed and changed before my shift at the diner.

I only got as far as halfway home when the dinosaur started to splutter and jerk, a sure sign that the car was on its last legs.

"Don't do this to me now, you horrid little car." I slapped my palm against the steering wheel as the thing rolled to a gentle stop at the side of the road. "I knew you weren't worth six hundred dollars."

After a few more profanities aimed at my car, I took a deep breath before I climbed out of the truck and examined my tires, making sure they were fine before I flipped open the hood of my car and peered inside.

I suspected that the culprit for my car troubles was going to be something to do with my coolant levels and sure enough, the old radiator I'd meant to get around to replacing was badly cracked, the coolant levels were running on empty. The leak had also meant that the hoses of the system were crusted over, and I clenched my jaw in irritation at not having checked them sooner.

I called up the nearest auto shop and arranged for them to come and collect both me and the car, and then I waited on the side of the road, ignoring the beeping horns of old truck drivers as they spotted me in my cheerleading uniform. It was too hot this time of year to wait inside the car without air con, forcing me to endure the unwanted attention with a scowl on my face.

Eventually, a tall, skinny guy with wire-rimmed glasses drove up in a black The Auto Shop truck, nodding at the passenger side for me to climb in whilst he went about fixing my truck to the back of his.

I slid into the passenger seat, my eyes roaming over the empty chocolate wrappers on the dashboard and the green pine tree car freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. It smelt like cigarettes in the car, the same way our living room usually smelt thanks to my mother, and I tried to roll down the window, desperate to breathe in some fresh air.

"Oh, that window's jammed shut," the mechanic said as he climbed into the driver seat. My hand dropped from the button, my eyes falling to his dark blue name badge. Ian.

Ian and I rode the rest of the way to the auto shop in silence, and I was grateful when we finally pulled to a stop and I was able to clamber out and take a healthy breath of warm, humid air.

"You can sit over there," Ian said, pointing at the old, tattered sofa in the corner of the auto shop. "Your car's been taken out back. I'm just going to have a quick look over it and then we'll talk shop."

I simply nodded, fishing out my phone before checking the time. My shift at the diner started in less than an hour, but there was no way I'd be making it there on time. I hadn't even showered yet, and I still needed to swing home to change into my uniform. Ian took his sweet time checking over my car, too, but eventually he came back to the auto shop desk and I stood up and made my way over to the counter.

"What's the damage?" I asked.

"Well," Ian began slowly, his voice nasally sounding. "First off, your two back tires are deflated. You must have popped them going over uneven road, or something. They alone will cost around—"

"My tires," I repeated, my eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "There's nothing wrong with my tires. I just checked them."

Without waiting for another word, I walked around the counter and pushed past Ian, heading through the employee door and into the back, where several cars were already lined up in a typical dark, musty work shop.

I spotted my car at the end and, despite Ian's protests that I couldn't be back there, moved toward it and ducked down, checking each tire individually. Sure enough, the two back tires were considerably more deflated then they had been only an hour before.

I straightened up and whipped around to face Ian, my green eyes glowing furiously. "Mother fu–"

"Meg?"

I froze and turned to see Nate standing in the employee doorway with a tight, black Auto Shop tshirt on, looking between Ian and I with furrowed eyebrows.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked.

Despite my surprise, I ignored him and turned back to Ian, my bullshit levels now running on empty. "You slashed my tires," I growled, closing the distance between us before grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "Do you think I'm stupid? That I don't check my own car?"

To say Ian looked surprised was an understatement, and he began to stutter at the same time Nate's large, calloused hand wrapped around the circumference of my forearm.

"Let him go, Meg," Nate said from beside me, and I unbunched my fingers from the front of Ian's shirt before fixing my eyes on Nate.

Nate wasn't looking at me, he was looking at Ian, who looked as though he might burst into tears at any given moment.

"Why don't you go back in the front, Ian?" Nate suggested in a cool voice. "I'll take it from here."

Ian slinked back through the employee door faster than I'd ever seen anyone move, before Nate lowered those honey eyes onto me. Just like that, I knew.

They were in it together.

"I knew as soon as you walked into the diner you were a criminal," I growled, not taking my eyes off him once. "Slashing people's tires so that they have to pay you more to fix them? No wonder you're able to tip so well. You're a crook."

"Keep your voice down," Nate growled, his own eyes darkening. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? It's not something we do all the time, and we only do it to customers who look wealthy."

I stared up at him with sheer disbelief, unable to fathom that he was actually trying to justify himself.

"Who do you think you are, Robin Hood? A crime is a crime, Nate, and I'm not wealthy."

Nate took in my cheerleading uniform with an eyebrow cocked. "It was a lapse in judgement on Ian's part," he agreed.

I folded my arms over my exposed midriff. "You are going to replace all four of my tires with new ones," I said after a moment of silence, my voice eerily calm and all fuzzy feelings I might have felt gone. "And you are going to fix my car, free of charge. Understood? Or I'm going to call the cops right now."

Nate raised a single eyebrow at my request. For a moment, as the muscle in his jaw contracted in anger, it looked as though he were about to tell me just where I could stuff my request, before his eyebrow lowered and he clenched his jaw, sure signs of defeat.

"Look," he said, his voice low and appeasing, as if he thought he'd be able to talk his way out of this, or get me to relent. "My boss will notice certain parts are missing that haven't been paid for if I do that. I can probably get away with replacing the two slashed tires with brand new ones, but that's it."

I couldn't believe the nerve. Two measly brand new tires when there had been nothing wrong with my tires to begin with?

"Looks like you'll be going back to prison then," I said before getting out my phone, because I was certain he had to be on probation for something.

"Wait," Nate growled, putting out a hand to pacify me. "I'll replace all four tires with new ones, all right?"

"And fix my car free of charge," I said slowly, my expression unwavering.

A muscle in Nate's eye twitched. "Let's just see what's wrong with it, all right? You might have to pay half, at least."

I thought about this for a moment. "All right," I relented, since paying for half was better than paying for all. I usually didn't like handouts, but considering Nate was a low level criminal who had tried to scam me from my hard earned money, I didn't feel too guilty about accepting his compensation. "And it's the radiator."

"How do you know?" Nate asked.

I gave him a look that made him step back, as if he thought I was going to grab him by the shirt, too.

"Because I checked," I said flatly, folding my arms. "There's an internal leak in the radiator that I never picked up on and the car overheated."

"If your radiator's shot, you're looking at around four hundred dollars for a new one to be installed," Nate warned, and I ran a hand down my face as I imagined all of those Benjamin's slowly slipping away.

That was two hundred dollars with my new victim discount being applied. Two hundred dollars that I didn't even have, not unless I broke into my already dwindling college fund.

Why was being responsible so damn hard?