“Weird is putting it mildly,” I said softly. I hated feeling like I’d been caught unprepared. My nerves shot into overdrive, and when I got nervous, I got mean. It was often a struggle to try to control my tongue.

“Uh, Miss Martin?” one of the youth group boys called to me, looking at the car with uncertainty. “Should we start washing, or…?”

I still hadn’t taken Vincent’s money. I reached for it, but he pulled it back slightly, and in a lowered voice said, “You know, I’m kind of particular about my car. Maybe let the kids do the next one and you take care of us yourself?”

Jason smirked, pretending he was focused on his phone. He didn’t even have an app open; he was just randomly clicking around his screen. I plucked Vincent’s money out of his hand, tucking it into my bikini top.

“Turn the car off,” I said. “And roll your windows up, unless you want to get wet.”

“I wouldn’t mind getting wet.”

I ignored him, grabbing the bucket of soapy water and sloshing it over the car. He still managed to get his window up in time, but I could see him grinning at me through the windshield. Jason wasn’t pretending to look at his phone anymore as I leaned over the hood, scrubbing a sponge over the bright blue paint.

“You guys get the next one,” I said, shooing the kids away. They could deal with the minivan that was next in line instead.

The WRX was mine.

Jason and Vincent both stared as I reached as high as I could on the hood, my chest brushing against the wet metal. I was thorough, but I tried to move quickly, because the last thing I wanted was for my mom to get off the phone and start scolding me for not having a shirt on. As I moved around to the passenger side, Jason rolled down his window slightly and said, “Don’t forget the wheels. They’re pretty dirty.”

I grit my teeth as I knelt, scrubbing the black rims. Once I’d finished, I stretched up on my tiptoes to get the roof. It put me right in front of Jason’s window, and I knew he was staring, but I didn’t mind putting on a little show. Pressed so close against the glass, I could see Vincent reach over and lay his hand on Jason’s obvious bulge, squeezing.

It was unbearably hot and I was sweating like a sinner in church. It was a disturbingly accurate allegory, considering my present circumstances.

Right as I was finishing up, I caught my mom’s furious gaze. Oh, she was pissed and ready to be petty, especially as I’d pulled a total Paris Hilton — all I was missing was the messy burger. I hurriedly rinsed the car and gave the window a knock when I was done.

Vincent was smirking as he rolled it down.

“World class service,” he said, handing me another ten-dollar bill. “I usually avoid giving to the church, but you might make a believer out of me.”