The moment he mentions air-conditioning, I realize how sweaty I’ve become. I’d been in such a zone that I honestly hadn’t even noticed. All those years Dad worked under the Texas sun, I wondered how he did it. He always said it was about getting into a rhythm, and I’d never quite understood what he meant about that until now.

We pile into the truck and devour a bag of tacos. Tucker and Dad talk about guys from work and an upcoming project Dad is trying to land. It’s like watching my dad talk to a peer, and for some reason, watching the two of them interact makes me a little bit jealous, but I stuff that feeling down when I remember what Tucker said about me being lucky.

After lunch, Dad sticks around and watches me change the oil on a Subaru. He hovers and tells me things I already know—well, admittedly, things I’ve only known for a few hours. Thankfully, right as I’m about to absolutely explode and tell my dad to drink a gallon of motor oil, Bekah Cotter calls out to us from the courtyard. “Hey, y’all! Could I talk to you two?” She waves to Dad. “Hi, Mr. Brewer!”

“How do you know Bekah Cotter?” I ask in a whisper.

“What? Scared your dad’s popular?”

I laugh. “Not even a little bit.”

“I play softball with her dad.”

“Got it. Dad, I better—”

He throws his hands up. “I hear ya loud and clear. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I love you! Especially when you bring me tacos!” I call after him as he gets into the truck.

“Hey, Bekah!” Tucker says as she draws closer.

She smiles at him, bouncing on her toes. Ah, yes, she definitely thinks he’s cute. There’s a twinge in my stomach and I can’t tell if it’s jealousy or the tacos.

“I needed to talk to y’all about some prom court biz,” she says.

“This sounds juicy,” I say.

Her eyebrows jump up and down excitedly. “Volunteer hours.”

I grimace.

Bekah doesn’t miss a beat. “Hannah has us all signed up for after school on Friday.”

“I usually help my dad out on Fridays, but I’ll see if I can get out of it,” Tucker says.

Bekah grins. Eyeballing our uniforms, she says, “Oh, now this was a good idea.”

“You think?” I ask.

“Oil changes?” She nods feverishly. “That’s like a real thing people need. Melissa decorated teachers’ doors and I heard a bunch of them were actually annoyed because she got glitter everywhere.”

“Glitter is dangerous,” I say. “You don’t wield glitter. Glitter wields you.”

She leans in to add, “And Bryce didn’t even help her.”

Tucker rolls his eyes. “Flake. Probably thinks he can phone it in.”

Bekah nods knowingly. “But I think y’all actually stand a chance here.”