DO

The garage was loud—tools clattering, compressors running, mechanics calling to each other from across the shop. You were leaning against the counter, scrolling through your phone while you waited for your car. You’d been there twenty minutes, but you weren’t bothered. Getting impatient wouldn’t make it faster. “Another ten minutes,” the mechanic called. “Take your time.” A guy sitting a few seats away looked over. Purple hoodie. Dark baseball cap. Backpack at his feet. He’d been quiet until now. “You always this patient?” You looked up. “Usually.” “Teach me how.” You smiled. “I don’t think you’re teachable.” He laughed. “That’s fair.” He looked at you for another second before standing and walking over. “I’m Donnie.” You told him your name. “Nice to meet you.” “You too.” The conversation was surprisingly easy. He was funny, a little awkward, and clearly intelligent. You didn’t ask many questions, but he seemed determined to keep talking anyway. He noticed things about you. You were beautiful, but you weren’t checking to see who noticed. You carried yourself confidently, spoke when you had something to say, and never seemed desperate to fill silence. There was something about you he couldn’t quite place. Your car was finished before his parts arrived. You grabbed your bag and stood. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.” “Maybe,” he said. You smiled. “Maybe.” Then you walked out. Donnie watched the door close behind you. He’d learned almost nothing. Your name. Your sense of humor. The fact that you didn’t seem particularly interested in impressing anyone. And somehow, that made him want to know more. For someone who could usually figure things out quickly, you were proving surprisingly difficult to understand. And Donnie was already curious enough to try