“What do you think it is?” I ask once he’s back. My arms are wrapped around my torso, the air suddenly much colder. It’s not like I can help Aaron in any way. I should’ve asked one of my mother’s boyfriends to show me how to do basic car work while I had the chance.

Hood popped, Aaron leans over my car and says, “Not sure, but I guess we can try to jump it.”

“Sure,” I say as if I have an opinion on the matter. Shifting from foot to foot, I add, “Is there anything I can do?”

Aaron walks back to his SUV and dips inside the trunk, coming back with a bundle of cables in his arms.

“You can help me untangle these,” he says.

The thing’s a mess, but if it can help me get back home, I’ll break every one of my nails to do it. I hold out my hands, and he gives me one part of the bundle.

“So,” Aaron asks as we get to work, “how’s the case going?” The nonchalance of his voice doesn’t reach his eyes, which are burning with questions.

“Good,” I say. “I might need to ask you a couple more questions before I can write the subpoena so I have all the information I need, but we’re making good progress, I think.”

“Good. That’s good,” he says, seemingly more to himself than to me.

With a grunt, I finish untangling the last of the cables, then hand them to Aaron.

“Thanks,” he says as he walks to his car and clamps two of them to what I’m guessing is his battery.

“Thank you again for doing this,” Aaron says as he unfurls from his position.

“Doing what?” Letting my car break down in his driveway?

“My dad’s case.” He walks to my car, then clamps the two others ends of the cables. Not looking at me, he says, “I hope you know how grateful we all are.”

I lean against the side of my car, arms crossed. “Of course. And no need to thank me, really.” Even though I hesitated at first, I don’t see how I could’ve said no to this case. “Your parents are great.”

Straightening, he smiles, a sight that makes something in my chest feel weird. I’ve never seen him look so…bright before. Even this summer, when he grinned, it didn’t feel genuine. Not like now. This expression transforms him. “Yeah, they really are,” he says.

After a moment of staring that lasts a tad too long, he claps his hands, then says, “All right. I’ll start my car, then it’s your turn.”

I listen to him and head inside my car. After a few seconds, I hear the rumble of Aaron’s engine being started, which makes me jealous.

Please, please, please.

I turn the key in my ignition, eyes screwed shut.