“Have a good day,” Mom said.

“Thanks.”

He climbed out and shut the door and began to walk, expecting to hear the loud blast of engine behind him.

Instead, he didn’t hear anything.

He turned and looked at the old car.

It had stalled.

Now he was hearing a whirring sound as his mom kept turning the key in the ignition without success.

You’ve gotta be kidding.

For a brief moment he thought about bailing. He would never have done it but the thought did go through his mind.

Thomas walked back over to the car and opened the passenger door.

“It died on me.”

“So I hear.”

“It’s not my fault.”

The anger and awkwardness inside of him wanted to say something, but Mom was right. It wasn’t her fault.

A car behind them honked. Thomas waved them past and the car bolted around them, its driver looking angry.

“We better move this,” Thomas said.

“How?”

“Here, just—put it in neutral and I’ll try to push it. Let’s try to roll it to the parking lot. Or at least away from the sidewalk.”

A group of girls gawked as they passed by. He didn’t want them noticing him. Not his mom’s car or his familiar jeans or his very worn T-shirt or anything about him.

Another thought sank like a torpedo in his mind.

Was that Cass?

But no. He didn’t want to think about that because he was pretty sure she was somewhere out there watching him, now when he was all red-faced from not only trying to move a car too heavy for one kid but also blushing from the tip of his nose to the bottom of his toes.

He heaved with all his strength but the car wouldn’t budge.

“You have it in neutral? Is the brake off?”

“Yeah.”

Another car honked.

A group of students walked by laughing. Maybe at him, maybe not.

Then he heard a voice shouting from a distance. “Need a new car, buddy?”

He didn’t have to look to see that it was Vic. Thomas searched the sidewalk and saw him standing with a group of friends, all of them laughing. Vic towered over the rest of them with his tall frame and his spiked hair.

“Want to borrow mine?”

“I can get out,” Mom said.

“No, Mom, you need to steer.”

This was getting worse. More kids were staring, more cars were behind them waiting.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

For a brief moment Thomas thought of punching whoever it was. Surely it was someone needing this space, someone who was impatient and thought they were far more important than the rest of the world, someone who didn’t understand.

But instead he saw the round face of a guy he’d seen but had never met. He was smiling.

“Need some help?” the guy asked.

“Yeah, sure, thanks.”

The guy was big—he played football. Thomas had seen him walking around with the rest of the football team. This guy definitely had to be a lineman, probably offensive tackle or something like that. The stranger called out to a couple other guys and they all pushed the Maxima with ease. They made jokes while they did it, but with each other, not with him.