Ignorance is Bliss- an exerpt from Chapter One of "Collide"

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There were only a few things that Jason Marsh was truly thankful for during football training camp. The first was Sundays, because there was no practice. The second was rain, because then the humidity subsided (or increased, depending on how you looked at it) and playing in the mud was better than playing in the dust. However, if it was Sunday and also raining, Jason hated them both. This was one of those days. He had woken up to the sound of rain pounding the window of the living room, where he slept, and he groaned.
“I don’t want to hear it from you,” his sister called from the kitchen. She was hovering over the coffee pot, waiting for the steady stream of coffee to stop so that she could get a cup before she left for work. “They don’t close the pool unless there’s thunder so I get to sit out on the lifeguard stand in the rain.”
He and his family had just moved to Northern Virginia from Pittsburg, California where real estate was cheap and entertainment consisted of making the drive to San Francisco. Moving to Alexandria was a culture shock for the entire family (the least of all Jason’s dad, because he had grown up in a larger California town before moving away from the hustle and bustle of big town life).
The apartment he shared with his father and sister was tiny, but all that they could afford. Pittsburg was not a wealthy county, and Jason’s dad had taken most of the equity out of their house, so when they had sold the house and land most of it went back to the bank. Houses in Alexandria were ridiculously overpriced, even the falling down ones, and rent on a two bedroom apartment was just about all Jason’s family could scrape money together for. Jason’s aunt and uncle had offered him a place to live which would have made the two bedroom apartment adequate, but it was his fault his family was in Virginia, and he would suffer with them. He let Ashley take the second bedroom, choosing to sleep on a futon in the living room instead.
“Sorry,” he offered.
“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you control the weather.”
“Not that I know of, at least.”
He added the last part under his breath, so that Ashley couldn’t hear him. Jason had a curious pull over things around him, a pull that the rest of the population (as far as he knew) didn’t have, but he was almost positive that controlling the weather wasn’t one of them.
“Dad’s at work already. He left the truck for you because he figured you’d want to go to the Pataski’s as soon as you were awake.” She grabbed a travel mug from a cabinet and headed towards the front door. “You are still going to the Pataski’s house, even though it’s raining, right?”
On a sunny Sunday, Jason would wake up and drive over to his cousin’s house, bringing with him a spare change of clothes. Once at his cousin’s, he would park the car and go jogging on the path that was nearby, and then return to their house to shower and start his day. Today, he would either run in the rain or not at all. He groaned in response to her question and she left. He toyed with going back to sleep, but now that he was awake and putting together coherent thoughts, he knew he wouldn’t be able to close his eyes again. Despite it still being too early to make the drive to Mike’s, Jason got up and headed out the door, grabbing his dad’s car keys on the way out.
His dad drove an old but dependable Ford F150 that was older than Jason was. In the places that rust hadn’t completely taken over, the color appeared to be blue but Jason was pretty sure the paint had faded, and as if to keep up the mystery, Mr. Johnson liked to joke that he didn’t remember the car’s original color at all. The family’s second car was a Mazda Protégé that was old enough to be considered a classic car according to Virginia’s DMV. Ashley held all claims to driving it, and Jason didn’t mind. Ashley was three years older than him, so technically she did deserve to drive it. Ashley also drove to a community college that wasn’t made up of 60% rich jocks, so she wasn’t embarrassed to be seen in it. The only reason Jason didn’t mind the truck (or Old Reliable as they called it) was because it was a truck and thus held a small amount of respect in other men’s eyes- or at least in Jason’s eyes- and he and his dad were of the opinion that if it could survive the trip across country, it was good enough for them.
It was before nine when Jason parked in front of his cousin’s house. He knew Mike wasn’t in any shape to deal with the rest of the world yet, and didn’t especially favor going in to talk with his aunt and uncle. If they even were his aunt and uncle. Jason wasn’t sure what to think about anything anymore. He sighed deeply and looked around the cul-de-sac to see if there was life in any of the other oversized houses.
Mike lived off a cul-de-sac that sat between the GW Parkway and the Potomac River, in houses that were oversized and overpriced because of their location. His cousin was part of a privileged family who could support third-world countries with a years’ salary and were surrounded by others in the same situation. Most of the driveways housed expensive cars, some of the backyards kept tennis courts and all of the houses that bordered the water had a dock with a series of boats sitting at it.
Jason sat for a minute, his eyes sliding over the houses, and he tried to picture what kind of work afforded one such a house. He couldn’t think of anything short of being part of a mafia and that idea made him chuckle. The house next door to Mike’s was painted a cheery yellow (a faded sort of yellow that didn’t catch fire if the sun hit it, making it tolerable to look at) and a banner hung across the garage door, obviously painted by the children of the house, proclaiming ‘Happy Birthday Mom!’ in unpracticed writing. Jason couldn’t imagine that a sad day ever passed in a house painted yellow, and for a minute he envied the residents.
Across from Mike, a house sat with its back to the Potomac. The house itself was magnificent, but the riverfront added another advantage. The house was two stories with pale red brick and wide windows adorned with black shutters. A small porch contained the front door, which was a plate of stained glass. The sidewalk leading to the front door was brick and accented with an array of colorful flowers. The property was fenced and gated, but the gate was open now. As beautiful as the house was, it was the garage that caught Jason’s attention. It seemed to be two stories- he was sure it had to be at least two stories- and a car was suspended over the ground on a professional lift. His jaw dropped in amazement. Back in Pittsburg, no one would have believed this sort of thing existed outside of a mechanic’s garage. The other thing that he found odd about the lift was the car that sat on it. He had expected all of the houses to contain expensive cars- Lexus’ at the least- but sitting across from him was a shiny black Mustang.
As he tried to piece together what he was observing, there was movement in the garage. He watched as a girl about his own age appeared in the doorway. She held her hand out to the rain and then frowned deeply enough that Jason could see it from his spot across the street. She turned and walked back into the garage, but he could see her playing with tools on the back wall. After a minute, she turned away from the wall and ducked her head so that she was standing under the car. Jason had worked for a mechanic in California and as he watched her move around under the cars, he longed to know what was going on. In an instant, curiosity had Jason out of his car and running through the rain up her driveway.
“Hi,” he called as way of greeting.
He blushed furiously because his voice came out high pitched and squeaky, but all of his bravery was gone now that he could clearly see who owned the house, the garage, and the car lift. He recognized the girl as Amber Yates. She was on the cheerleading squad at his school and someone he thought would be unapproachable because in California most cheerleaders were, but here he was inviting himself into her garage and forced into conversation. She looked up, startled by his sudden appearance, but she smiled warmly.
“Hi.”
She waited patiently for him to say something else, but he couldn’t think of anything. He was staring at her, quite obviously. She was very pretty, something he had noticed the few times he had seen her at school, but always at a distance. Now that he was within five feet of her, he allowed himself a closer inspection. She had mocha colored hair that he had only seen pulled back into a ponytail or messy bun, but today she had let it down and he noticed that it was curly. Light bangs fell sideways across her face and as she stood watching him, she shrugged her head in a move she had mastered in order to get her hair out of her eyes. When he still said nothing, some of her patience wore from her clover colored eyes. “Are you selling something?”
“What?”
“I’m not interested in joining a church either, or learning about how I can be ‘saved’. I already have two churches that I sometimes belong to.”
“I’m not selling anything.”
She seemed taken aback by this and frowned slightly, trying to place him.“Do I know you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’re Jason Marsh.”
“How’d you know that?”
“You’re the new boy from California.”
“Yeah.” He frowned, watching her watch him. “I was hoping to escape the ‘new boy’ label.”
Amber laughed. “Good luck with that.” She wiped her hands thoughtlessly on her pants and offered him a hand. “I’m Amber, by the way.”
He stepped forward and shook her hand, surprised by her strong grip. “I know who you are.”
“You do?”
“I’ve seen you at the school.”
“You have?”
“I don’t stalk you or anything. It’s just sometimes you’re at practice at the same time as me and it’s nice to look across the field and watch something other than guys run around in tight pants.”
Amber grinned. “I have the opposite reaction. It’s a relief to look across the field and be able to openly stare at guys in tight pants. I’m sorry I haven’t said hello sooner. With the helmets on you all look the same. But I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“That’s never a good sign.”
“Usually not,” Amber agreed. “You haven’t heard any of the rumors?”
“No.”
“You might want to.”
Jason waited, but Amber seemed to be done talking. “You want to clue me in?”
“I don’t gossip.”
“You’re kidding.”
Amber laughed and Jason found his own lips turning upward. Her laugh was genuine and flowing; contagious. Unlike a lot of people who laughed so that they wouldn’t hurt your feelings, Amber seemed generally entertained by their conversation. He stepped further into her garage and looked around for the first time, with a nervous glance at Amber as he did so.
The garage was actually three stories. Two were visible from the front of the house, and allowed the space for the lift. A spiral staircase was situated in the back left-hand corner, leading to a lower level, where the driveway wrapped around the house. The top two levels were two cars wide, and both had lifts. Amber’s Mustang sat on one lift, an Audi was sitting on top of the second lift, overtop a BMW SUV. Without trying to be obvious about it, Jason leaned cautiously over the rail to look into the basement and spotted the tail lights of a very shiny black sports car. If Jason squinted he could make out the Porsche symbol sitting majestically on the trunk. He was proud of himself that he hadn’t let his jaw drop, but when he turned back to face Amber, he found her watching him with a smile. He grinned, clearly embarrassed.
“I think your cars are worth more than my dad makes in a year.” Possibly a decade.
“Daddy loves his toys.”
It was a glimpse into her privileged life when Jason heard her call the expensive cars her father’s ‘toys.’ The only toys his own dad had were puzzles and most of them were bought at garage sells or dollar stores in order to save money. To hear her reference the expensive collection in the same tone that he used to reference collecting socks was overwhelming. He swallowed nervously. She was still watching him, expecting him to say something.
He licked his lips and asked, “What’s wrong with the ‘stang?”
“Nothing,” she responded with a shrug. “Nothing yet at least. I’m supposed to get acquainted with her underside.”
“Need help?”
Amber considered him for a minute and Jason felt as if he was being x-rayed with her vision.
“If it helps, I used to work part time for a mechanic back home.”
Finally she consented with a small nod. He joined her under the car and instantly felt more at home. Engines varied by maker and expense, but he knew his way around the mechanics. He had the upper hand as long as he was under the belly of the car. He was fairly confident that he could even make things up and she wouldn’t know the difference but he didn’t want to risk having her call his bluff. He inhaled deeply, noting the smell of oil and metal and a clean, flowery smell that intensified whenever Amber made a sudden movement and sent her hair flying.
He didn’t realize he was staring at her until she cleared her throat and asked, “Why are you up so early today? Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?”
He shrugged and quickly looked up into the depths of the car. “Usually I go running.”
“Me too.”
“Really?” His attention snapped back to her.
“I don’t look like I run?”
“Not really.”
Amber crossed her arms across her chest. “I could outrun you.”
“When it’s not raining we’ll have to test that theory,” Jason replied.
“Deal.”
“Do you have a flashlight?” he asked. The garage was dark, especially since the lack of sun offered no light. She beckoned him to the worktable behind her and he helped her search. For a minute they said nothing as they worked their away apart in their search.
“Can I just tell you how awesome it is that you have a lift in your garage?”
Amber’s voice was muffled as she responded. “Dad is a big car buff. He likes collecting them, he likes fixing them. I don’t know what half of his collection downstairs is.”
“This is a great car,” Jason told her. He had completed his search of the cluttered work area and turned back to inspect the car. She drove a Ford Mustang convertible with shiny black paint and a pristine black soft top. Jason figured the model was late ‘90’s or early 2000’s, sometime before they changed the body type for the anniversary edition. She had custom rims on the wheels and thin white stripes running from the front fender to the rear fender on both sides. He stood on tip-toe to look at the top. It had a hood scoop, but Jason was almost positive she hadn’t added it, or even knew what it was for.
Amber beamed. “Thanks. I worked hard for it.”
That was partly the truth. She had spotted the car months ago sitting in used lot parked along George Washington Memorial Parkway on her way home from the airport. She expressed interest at dinner that night, and the next morning it was sitting in the driveway for her. Her dad loved spoiling her and did so often, but the car was above and beyond an ordinary gift. He wouldn’t just hand her the keys to the Mustang like he often handed her Tiffany bracelets and Coach bags. This was an investment and she would have to treat it as such. So for the next few weeks Amber watched her grades, volunteered at the local soup kitchen and did whatever she could around the house in addition to the activities she already partook in. She finally earned it on the last day of school.
She appeared back at his side, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and the small movement allowed Jason to glance over at her again. She was wearing a pair of pink athletic pants that had a series of snaps running from the bottom hem to the hip, and a white tank top that was especially bright against her olive skin and that hugged her stomach and stretched across her chest. She caught him watching her a third time and he saw color flush her cheeks.
“Sorry,” he murmured. If he wasn’t careful, she was going to mistake him for a creep and kick him out of her garage.
She passed the flashlight to him without a word. He reached for it and Amber quickly dumped it into his outstretched hand. As he closed his fingers around the flashlight, her fingers brushed his open palm and a crack like a whip deafened both of them for a second. A wave of energy rattled the tools that were hanging on the wall. The garage’s light flickered off and then back on again and the security alarm on all three cars went off. Amber winced as if shocked and Jason’s own flesh felt like it was on fire. Jason managed to silence the Mustang while Amber hurried inside for the keys to her parent’s cars.
When the garage was silent again, a woman stuck her head in the garage. Even without an introduction, Jason knew that it was Amber’s mother. She had the same skin tone as her daughter, the same bone structure. She wore her graying dark hair in a tight bun, which pulled the skin back on her face and made her look hawkish. Unlike Amber who constantly had a smile on her face, or the hint of a smile in her eyes, this woman’s face seemed to be frozen in a frown.
“What on God’s green earth happened?” she demanded in a thick accent. Her eyes swept the garage and located Amber and then Jason. “Oh.”
“Sorry,” Amber said quickly. “There must have been an electrical build up or something.”
“Are you okay?”She sounded as if she was only asking because it was necessary.
“Yeah, mom, we’re fine.”
Mrs. Yates turned back to Jason and she inspected him silently for a minute with her lips pursed as if in a silent question.
“I’m-” Jason started. He took a step forward towards her with his hand outstretched, but Mrs. Yates turned and went back into the house. The door shut briskly behind her and Jason snapped his hand back while feeling stupid.
“It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate the gesture, it’s just- well, she doesn’t care.”
“She seems pleasant,” Jason offered.
“Yeah, she warms the heart.” Amber rolled her eyes. “What the hell was that?”
Jason shook his head and shrugged helplessly as his cell phone vibrated urgently in his pocket. The name on the caller ID confirmed what Jason had suspected- that he probably would never be able to explain to Amber what had happened.