Page 40 of Offside Rules

"That’s my specialty. Whatcha got?"

I tell him about the code I pulled from Sprinkles, the rough idle, and the trouble starting.

"Have you checked the plugs?"

"Not yet. I drove it once, then we left town."

"Start there before you order anything." He asks a few more questions, and I hear a drawer opening.

"Dad, I’m asking for your opinion. You don’t need to go to the shop."

"I’m getting a pen."

"All right."

"Whose truck?"

"My neighbor’s. She sells cupcakes out of it."

"And you’re fixing it?"

"I’m going to see if I can."

"Good boy. You got a thing for this broad?"

"She’s Beau Fairbanks’s little sister."

"You have a death wish, son?"

"I’m doing what I can to help her. That’s all. I kind of owe her. I flooded her apartment kitchen. Well, Rooks actually did."

"Rooks," my dad grumbles. "That kid can’t walk down the street without breaking something. They should put him in a bubble suit."

"I’ll consider that next time he comes into town. Back to the truck…" I tell him.

I grew up handing him tools and asking questions until he finally let me do something myself. He likes having an answer when someone needs one.

So do I.

We hang up after he gives me a few things to try first, and he promises to call the specialist. I put away the ice pack, pick up my bag, and find a message from Scottie in the group chat.

Scottie: Wolf. Where you at?

Aleksi: Girls are getting antsy already. They want to go dancing.

I tell them I’m on my way. One beer at Oakley’s. They can figure out the dancing after that.

Oakley’s is packed when I get there. A replay of JP’s last save is on one of the televisions, and somebody near the bar cheers like he hasn’t already seen it three times.

Hunter waves me over. Luka slides along the booth to make room, and Olsen is already arguing with Aleksi about something that apparently happened in the second period.

"One drink," I tell them, taking off my jacket.

"That’s what we all said," Luka tells me.

I order a beer and settle in. My shoulder still aches, but sitting here isn’t much different from sitting on my couch. At least nobody’s asking me to lift anything.

I’m halfway through answering Olsen when the front door opens.