What if We Danced?

I decided to stay in town for the rest of the week until I could make a few bucks to get a place a few towns out – I’m going to try to spend as little on my credit card as I can, so that my parents can’t trace it back to me. I’m currently renting out one of the rooms as the local motel for a few days, just until I can get on my feet and make it on my own. I’m going shopping today, considering the fact that I just took off without any clothes of my own. I tracked down a thrift store in town that is supposed to sell decent, cheap clothes; I mean, what can I say? We all have to start somewhere.

I got into my car and started the engine; hearing that unwelcoming stalling sound. “Baby, please don’t do this to me, now,” I pleaded to my car, trying the key once more. After stalling again, I took my key out of the ignition and sighed, getting out and walking toward that unpleasant gas station across the street. I really wanted to try my best to avoid this place, but what I could I do at a time like this?

“Hey Gas Station Boy,” I called to the familiar face that was slouched across the lawn chair that sat on the deck of the old snack shack. The boy looked up at me and scowled. “Yeah, it’s me again; think you can help me with something?” I asked him, stopping in my tracks and putting my hand on my hips.

“If its helping you look for your personality, that’s long gone by now, babe,” he smirked, standing up and grabbing a dirty white towel to wipe his nasty hands on. I grimaced at his lame comeback. He got up and walked toward where I was standing, making me totally uncomfortable.

“Ha, ha, very funny, gas boy. My car’s stalling and I need a mechanic-like person to help me fix it so I can get out of this town,” I explained, trying to reason with him.

“Well, I’d help, but It’ll cost ya,” he told me.

“How much do you want?” I groaned, happy that money wasn’t a problem in this situation.

“One,” he stated simply.

“One?” I asked, “As in one dollar? One hundred? One grand?” He laughed a hearty laugh that made me want to smile. I resisted. “What?” I asked puzzled as to why he was laughing.

“I don’t want your money, sweet cheeks,” he smiled.

“Then how the hell am I supposed to pay you back?” I asked him, crossing my arms.

He smirked before opening his jaw wide, cupping his fingers in an ‘O’ shape, and moving his hand back and forth in front of his mouth.

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” I threw my arms up, fed up with guys and their pervertedness. I started to walk back toward my broken car again when he came running behind me chuckling.

“I was just pulling your finger, don’t worry – this time’ll be free of charge,” he smiled at me as he followed me to where my baby was parked.

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“Well, that should do it,” he muttered as he wiped his hands on the towel again. I was happy that my car was finally fixed because that meant that I could get out of her as soon as possible.

“Thanks again, Gas Station Boy,” I smiled.

“No problem, and call me Dustin,” he told me, holding out his semi-clean hand.

I decided to take my chances, so I took his palm in mine and lied, “Patricia.”

“That a nice name,” he noted, not letting my hand go. I wasn’t so sure as to why I lied – maybe it was ‘cause I wanted a fresh start where no one knew me? Yeah, that could be it. I nodded to him and released our hands before backing away.

“I should really get going, you know – places to be, people to see,” I laughed, getting into my car and turning the key. “I’ll see you later?”

“Sure, why not?” he smiled, tapping my car and walking back to the gas station to sit back at his post. I shuddered at the fact that I thought gas station boy might be attractive. Pushing that thought out of my mind, I drove out of the parking lot in search of a nearby clothing store so I could peel theses dirty clothes of my body.