Read Online Once Upon a Haunted Moon (The Keeper Saga) by K.R. Thompson - Free Book Online
Authors: K.R. Thompson
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it had started to stink. Embarrassed, I opened the door and chucked it in the bed of the truck.
Still eyeing me cautiously, Tori hopped up into the cab, pointedly ignoring the yellowed streak of mayonnaise between her feet and waited while I put the key in the ignition and tried to crank it up.
“I guess I should have seen if I had fixed it before I offered a ride,” I said, taking back my previous wish as I hoped the rusty old thing would decide to start up and go.
She listened as it turned over and over, then it finally gave up and made a weird clicking sound. “It’s your starter,” she announced and jumped back out of the truck and walked around to my side, picking up the wrench I had lost earlier.
I opened my door, gaping at her as she walked to the front of the truck, sat down carefully in the gravel, and peeked under the hulking metal frame, “What are you doing?” I asked the pair of boots that were the only indication she was there.
“When I tell you, crank it up again,” her voice came muffled from below.
I was still trying to figure out if I was imagining things when she said, “Ok, now,” and started beating the underside of the truck with the wrench as I turned the key.
Magically, the old truck groaned, then started up and purred. Tori popped back up into view, brushing loose gravel from the back of her skirt. She hopped into the cab again, tossing the wrench on the seat between us, and buckled her seat belt.
“You’ve got a dead spot on your starter.” She grinned. A small smudge of dirt shaped like a fingerprint rested high on her cheekbone. “You’ll have to get a new one, unless you want to beat on it every time you want to go somewhere. Oh, your oil pan is leaking a little bit, too, you’ll want to keep an eye on that. You know, they make these things known as ‘creepers,’ you lay on them and they roll under your vehicle so you can work on stuff easier. If you’re planning on keeping this truck, you may want to look into getting one, it’ll save your back from that gravel.”
“Huh…okay,” I stared at her, knowing my mouth really must be hanging open. I hoped I wasn’t drooling. “How do you know so much about cars?”
“Vo-Tech.” The statement was short and simple. She apparently expected me to know exactly what that was.
“Okay,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster as if I knew exactly what she was talking about.
She didn’t buy it. She rolled her eyes, “Vocational Technical School. You know, it’s where you can learn a trade of some sort. I like cars, so I learned auto mechanics. It comes in handy sometimes.”
“Yeah, it seems it does,” I murmured, backing down the driveway, trying to concentrate on the road instead of the sharp green eyes that were sizing me up, “So what brings you up from Florida? Don’t you have school, and that Vo-Tech stuff to do still?”
“I don’t recall saying anything about Florida,” her eyes flashed.
The truck lurched as I accidentally dropped the back wheel in the ditch across the road.
She smirked. “I’m thinking that walking was probably safer.”
“Sorry, no, you’ve just got me distracted. Nikki’s from Florida, so I figured you were from there, too.” I felt my face turning red.
“All right, so I’ll stop looking at you when I talk. Yeah, I’m from Florida and when you’re suspended you don’t go to school,” she turned and stared out the window.
The truck lurched again as the tire came free. I bit my lip, not sure whether to say anything, or let it go.
A couple of really long moments went by.
The mud-caked tire sounded like we were riding with a flat.
Thunk…thunk…thunk…
The edge of her lips quirked up, and I realized she was smiling, “You aren’t going to ask why I was suspended?”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding, “Sure. Why were you suspended?”
“Fighting.”I hadn’t really expected that, but said the first thing I thought of,
Still eyeing me cautiously, Tori hopped up into the cab, pointedly ignoring the yellowed streak of mayonnaise between her feet and waited while I put the key in the ignition and tried to crank it up.
“I guess I should have seen if I had fixed it before I offered a ride,” I said, taking back my previous wish as I hoped the rusty old thing would decide to start up and go.
She listened as it turned over and over, then it finally gave up and made a weird clicking sound. “It’s your starter,” she announced and jumped back out of the truck and walked around to my side, picking up the wrench I had lost earlier.
I opened my door, gaping at her as she walked to the front of the truck, sat down carefully in the gravel, and peeked under the hulking metal frame, “What are you doing?” I asked the pair of boots that were the only indication she was there.
“When I tell you, crank it up again,” her voice came muffled from below.
I was still trying to figure out if I was imagining things when she said, “Ok, now,” and started beating the underside of the truck with the wrench as I turned the key.
Magically, the old truck groaned, then started up and purred. Tori popped back up into view, brushing loose gravel from the back of her skirt. She hopped into the cab again, tossing the wrench on the seat between us, and buckled her seat belt.
“You’ve got a dead spot on your starter.” She grinned. A small smudge of dirt shaped like a fingerprint rested high on her cheekbone. “You’ll have to get a new one, unless you want to beat on it every time you want to go somewhere. Oh, your oil pan is leaking a little bit, too, you’ll want to keep an eye on that. You know, they make these things known as ‘creepers,’ you lay on them and they roll under your vehicle so you can work on stuff easier. If you’re planning on keeping this truck, you may want to look into getting one, it’ll save your back from that gravel.”
“Huh…okay,” I stared at her, knowing my mouth really must be hanging open. I hoped I wasn’t drooling. “How do you know so much about cars?”
“Vo-Tech.” The statement was short and simple. She apparently expected me to know exactly what that was.
“Okay,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster as if I knew exactly what she was talking about.
She didn’t buy it. She rolled her eyes, “Vocational Technical School. You know, it’s where you can learn a trade of some sort. I like cars, so I learned auto mechanics. It comes in handy sometimes.”
“Yeah, it seems it does,” I murmured, backing down the driveway, trying to concentrate on the road instead of the sharp green eyes that were sizing me up, “So what brings you up from Florida? Don’t you have school, and that Vo-Tech stuff to do still?”
“I don’t recall saying anything about Florida,” her eyes flashed.
The truck lurched as I accidentally dropped the back wheel in the ditch across the road.
She smirked. “I’m thinking that walking was probably safer.”
“Sorry, no, you’ve just got me distracted. Nikki’s from Florida, so I figured you were from there, too.” I felt my face turning red.
“All right, so I’ll stop looking at you when I talk. Yeah, I’m from Florida and when you’re suspended you don’t go to school,” she turned and stared out the window.
The truck lurched again as the tire came free. I bit my lip, not sure whether to say anything, or let it go.
A couple of really long moments went by.
The mud-caked tire sounded like we were riding with a flat.
Thunk…thunk…thunk…
The edge of her lips quirked up, and I realized she was smiling, “You aren’t going to ask why I was suspended?”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding, “Sure. Why were you suspended?”
“Fighting.”I hadn’t really expected that, but said the first thing I thought of,
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