"Do you have anything less...foreign?"

Nick and I stood in his sprawling garage, that looked more like a showroom of a car dealership. His car, or cars, were all shiny and new, some didn't even look used.

Nick allowed me to walk among the convertibles, sedans, and suvs to look for my new set of wheels for the next few weeks. I still found the idea to be ridiculous, but he insisted that I would be dead if I continued to drive my car. So with very little choice, I agreed to drive one of his fancy cars.

"You mean like a Prius?" he asked, scrunching his nose up.

"Yes, like a Prius," I responded. A prius would be lovely, even a station wagon would be great. Don't get me wrong Nick's cars are nice, but it's a bit suspicious for me to go from driving a car with mismatched hubcaps to a brand new Porsche overnight.

He scoffed, "No. I don't think I have any domestic cars." He said domestic like it was a dirty word. What a snob. "Do you not see anything that you like?"

"It's not that," I sighed stopping in the middle of the garage. "It's just....why do they all have to be so flashy? Why can't you have something more subtle?"

He looked at me with raised brows, before chuckling. He was laughing at me?

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"Because anyone else would be excited to be able to drive a Porsche for a few weeks, but you're asking me if I have a Prius." He laughed, "It's funny."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Well, I'm not anyone else, and I don't feel comfortable driving a Porsche."

" Oh, Maya, you're not like anyone I've ever met in my entire life."

"I'll take that as a compliment. But seriously, Nick, what am I going to drive?"

He sighed looking around, before his eyes landed on something in the corner. "I think I have something that you'll like. Follow me."

He brought me to a simple black car. He was right I liked it better than any of the other cars I had seen, it was big enough for groceries, and the flashiest thing about it was the silver mercedes emblem on the hood. I loved it.

"So what do you think?" Nick asked me looking like a young James Dean. The fronts of his jeans now had oil smudges on them, and a dirty rag stuck out of his back pocket.

"I like this one," I replied, opening the car door and slipping inside. It still had that new car smell, like clean leather and fresh pressed plastic. I breathed it all in, I have no idea when I'll smell it again. I ran my hands over the smooth black steering wheel. The seats were soft with no cracks in the leather, I loved it.

"Good," he said before going towards a panel covered in car keys that was displayed on the wall. I admired the way his t-shirt stretched against his back, tight against every muscle. "It's yours."

"Just until my car is drivable again," I reminded him.

"Yes, Maya," he sighed. "Just until your car is drivable again." He dropped the keys in my hand. I'd have to put my pepper spray and house keys on the key ring when I get home.

"I'll take good care of it." I wasn't going to eat or drink in here, and I'd be extra careful not to leave any of my trash. And I'm going to talk to Tasha, who would inevitably ask for a ride, to keep it clean as well.

"I know you will," he said. "I trust you." How? He barely even knows me, and he's already been nice enough to help me move and get me a graduation card. Which was completely unexpected, but also nice. It had a cute cat in a graduation cap on the front, and it was yellow which is my favorite color.

"You're too nice," I said to him.

"Too nice," he said confused.

He leaned against the side of the car. "I didn't know there was such a thing as too nice."

"Well, you're it. You just trust people you don't know. I could steal your car and sell it for petty cash."

"But you wouldn't do that."

"But I could." I know enough shady people that would take it.

He laughed. "Please, don't. Besides I know where you live, I know where you work, and I know who your friends are tracking you down wouldn't be hard to do."

"I guess you're right...."

He went on. "And isn't being nice a good thing? My parents aren't very nice so maybe that's why I try my best to be nice to people."

"My mom was a drug addict and a drunk," I said drily. "So I try my best not to be either of those things."

He ran a hand through his hair. "My dad's like that too, but he's what they call a functioning addict."

"Are any of them really functioning?"

"In Ryan Ainsworth's case, yes," he replied. "But his job is partying and making sure people have a good time, so his need for proper brain function is basically non-existent."

"Sounds like a loser." God, I need to learn how to not be so brutally honest. Maybe some of Nick's niceness will rub off on me.

He laughed. "You have no idea."

"Is your mom like that too?" I know I said I was going to stop asking him personal questions, but we're going to be spending a lot of time together so I might as well get to know him better.

"No, not like him, anyway. I'd catch her slipping pills here and there, but she would say they were vitamins. But I don't think she does that stuff anymore, she's on this whole enlightenment journey. Or she was when I last talked to her."

"And when was that?"

He thought about it. "About a year ago." A year ago. That's so long, but I haven't talked to my mom in twelve years.

"Do you miss them?" I asked him. "Your mom and dad, I mean. I know you said they're never home."

He scoffed. "Nope. Do you miss your mom?"

"God, no," I said. "I don't even know if you can call her that, she wasn't much of a mom. She simply gave birth to me." And for six years, I lived in a motel with her as she did drugs and turned tricks. She would lock me in the bathroom when she was 'working'; how considerate of her.

"Do you know where she is?" he asked.

"I don't know." She could be dead or she could have gotten her life together and have a family. Of course, I'd prefer for her to be healthy and sober, but she's not someone that crosses my mind often. "And I'm not in a rush to find out."

"I understand. I don't know what country my Dad is in right now, but I'm not in any rush to find out. Maybe he'll butt dial me, but I'm not going out of my way to track him down."

I laughed to myself.

"What's funny?"

"It's just that," I laughed. "We're talking about our childhood traumas in your Mercedes that's parked in your mansion. It's funny, but also sad, we're sad. "

He laughed with me. "I guess we are."

"I don't usually talk about this type of stuff," I admitted. "Nobody--"

"Understands," he finished for me. "I don't talk about my parents either, at least not the bad stuff. I've formulated a cookie cutter answer for when someone asks about them. They're always fine, and sometimes I'll say what country my Dad is in if I know."

"The way we talk about our parent's isn't normal."

"What's normal anyway?"

"Something that boring people like," I replied. "Are you coming back to work on my car some more?"

"Not tonight, but I'll be back tomorrow," he said, "I still need to sort out everything that I saw."

"Oh, okay," I said trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "My car has stressed you out already."

"Slightly," he sighed. "There's a lot to take in. You know how I said it might take a month."

I raised my brows. "Yes."

"Well, you might want to add a few weeks onto that." Surprisingly, I wasn't upset about that.

"I told you it was a P.O.S." He can't say I didn't warn him.

"It's not."

"Hmm, if you say so. Are you going to punk out?"

I'd called his dad a loser, and he'd been completely unphased. But now he looked extremely offended.

"No way," he stated. "I'm not a quitter."

"Good to know." I admired his determination, he was going to need it. "Should I expect you at the same time tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"I'll be at work when you get to my house, but I'll leave my spare house key under the mat for you." Thankfully, I would be able to avoid another pantsless incident.

"You trust me with your house keys?" he smirked. "Not worried I'm going to rob you and sell your stuff for petty cash."

"I would be if I had anything worth stealing." What's he going to steal? My laptop is pretty prehistoric, he'd probably get twenty bucks for it, and that's me being generous.

"You've got a pretty cool couch."

"I'd kill you," I said sweetly. This made him laugh.

"I won't steal your couch, I promise."

"Okay, since you promised. I'm going to leave you now." Even though, I wanted to stay and talk to him more, but I have work in the morning and I didn't want to overstay my welcome.

He smiled, making me swoon internally. What is happening to me, when did I turn into a girl that swoons over a guys smile? Somebody help me. "I'll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your new ride."

He closed the car door for me. "You better hope I don't hit anything," I told him.

"You won't," he said confidently.

"We hope."