Free The Fine Line by Alicia Kobishop

almost four weeks ago.  As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed that in contrast to the last time I was here, all four garage doors were open and several mechanics were busy at work on different cars. I parked my car in the lot and began walking towards the garage.  I didn’t see Logan at first, so I didn’t know if I should enter through the side door or one of the front overhead doors.  I decided on the latter.
    Several of the grease-covered men stopped what they were doing and turned their heads as I approached.  One of them whistled. 
    “Shut-it Carter.  Get back to work,” Logan yelled as he appeared from behind the covered Nova and began walking toward me.  He had been sitting at the desk in back of the shop.  “Dipshit.”
    “Show the lady some respect, man.  Jesus–this is a business.” another guy said.  Carter laughed, and the men returned to what they were doing.  It only took me a second to remember that Carter was the one with Logan on the night I met him.  I glanced over and noticed that the other guy who came to my defense was the same one who was carding people in front of the beer tent that same night.
    “Don’t worry about Carter,” Logan assured me as we met inside the garage.  “He’s harmless.” 
    I shrugged.  “No harm done.”  My gaze shifted from Carter to the other guy, who nodded to me with a friendly smile.  “Isn’t that the bouncer from River Fest?” I pointed.
    The man came over, wiping his hands on a rag as he approached.  He looked much less creepy in his mechanic’s clothes.  “I’m Matt.  I’d shake your hand, but you probably wouldn’t like that too much.”  He held up his blackened, greasy hands.  “Bouncing is my side job.”
    I giggled. “I’m sorry, I’m picturing you physically bouncing,” I replied.  He laughed.  “I’m Olivia.  And thank you,” I motioned to his oily hands.
    Logan pointed individually to each of the men.  “Carter’s the ass-munch.  That’s Casey, James, Jimbo, and Steve.”  Each of them stopped what they were doing to give me a friendly wave as they were introduced.  We walked to the back of the shop, and I dropped my backpack on the metal desk. 
    “You can do your homework here,” he pointed to the desk.  “My uncle couldn’t be here today, and the shop is overloaded with work, so I’m helping out.”
    “Okay, let me know if I’m in the way.  I can leave anytime,” I said.
    He looked at me with a reassuring smile.  “You’re never in the way, Liv.  I like having you around.  I work better, actually.”
    I welcomed the clinking noises and zoot-zoot sounds of the power tools accompanied by the hard rock/heavy metal music that was playing in the background.  Any background noise was better than quiet. 
    After finishing my homework an hour later, I walked around to watch the men work on the cars.  I quickly found out that Logan was the go-to person for questions.  He went from car to car, motivating the mechanics and giving encouraging instructions, while helping hands-on when and where he needed to.  He managed them well, and they clearly had respect for him, despite most of them being years older.
    Carter began to struggle with the car he was working on.  “Dammit!”
    I stepped over to take a look.  I had seen that model of car before.  In fact, I had spent a considerable amount of time in my preadolescent years observing the reconstruction of one. 
    “Hey, Carter,” I said.
    He grunted in response, then appeared to feel bad about it.  “Hey, Liv.” 
    “Everything okay?”
    “Fuck no.  Shit.  Sorry.  I mean no, it’s not okay.  I’m stumped.  I replaced the starter and the ignition switch and this bastard still won’t fu…it still won’t start.  All the wires to the starter look fine.  The battery is fine.  The radio, lights, everything works when you turn the ignition, just not the starter.”  He looked at me, remembering that I was a girl.