Five minutes later, Josh had the hood up and Thad in the driver’s seat. The engine chattered when Thad twisted the key, but it never turned over. I had prepared to stay a while, but Josh diagnosed the problem quickly.

“It’s probably your fuel filter,” Josh said through a peanut butter cookie. “If it were the battery, it would be totally dead in the water. If it were your spark plugs, it’d just click. But it’s trying to turn over, which leads me to believe it’s a clogged filter. But honestly, the spark plugs and ignition coils could be contributing.” He reached under the hood and dug around what I assumed were spark plugs. “They’re looking pretty rough.”

“What does it cost to replace the fuel filter?” Thad asked, his voice quiet.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have to replace it—at least, not at the moment. I would try cleaning it first.”

“What’ll that cost?”

“Eh, I could probably do it. I’ve done it once or twice with Addie, and when that fails, there’s always the internet.”

“How involved is it?”

Josh shrugged. “I dunno, fifteen minutes?”

“Oh really? That quick?”

Josh reached for another cookie before realizing all the grease on one of his hands from touching the spark plugs. “Sure. I’d have to jack it up, and you’ve gotta wait an hour for the fuel filter to dry before you put it back in, but that’s not a big issue.”

“Right—do you have the tools?”

“I wasn’t sure what the issue might be, but clogged fuel filters are a common reason for a car not starting, so I ‘borrowed’ some things from my brother in case that was the culprit. Do you, uh, have a rag, or…?”

Thad glanced down at Josh’s dirty hand. “Oh, for sure, yeah! Let me run inside. I’ll get something to drink for you, too.”

Thad headed back into the house, and I followed Josh to my car, where he’d stored a large case in the trunk, along with a car jack. Back when we’d dated, I’d been surprised by the depth of Josh’s knowledge. He didn’t strike me as the type to hold any interest in machinery, but his father owned a junk yard and his brother ran a repair garage, so he’d grown up around it. Even though Josh and his sister Christine weren’t mechanics, their father had ensured they both knew their way around the innerworkings of a vehicle.

When Thad got back, Josh had already disconnected the battery and jacked up the hind end of the car. I bit back a sexual remark because I wasn’t sure how Thad might take it. Some guys were only okay with “the gays” if they never made any mention of it whatsoever, and while Thad didn’t seem like the bigoted type, I also had to acknowledge his youth. Boys his age were assholes about anything related to homosexuality. I was made very aware of that in high school.

Thad wanted to see what Josh was doing, so Josh offered to let him squeeze underneath the car with him. This gave me time to eat a few brownies and open my Facebook app. No new friend requests. Ugh. Fuck that asshole. I was tempted to text him about it, but I decided to be the better person and friend him instead. If he rejected my request, then I’d have a reason not to sleep with him again. It wasn’t like I needed to see cute pictures of him and his niece.

I went to Josh’s Facebook page and scrolled through some of his photos. I found one of Josh and me in the car. Josh was making his usual dorky weird faces, and I was offering my usual half-smile, one Josh always made fun of because I hated to show my teeth. My teeth were fine now, but before braces, kids had made fun of them for being crooked. My mother, of course, had beautiful teeth. I had to thank my father for his crappy genes on that one.

I looked below the photo. Duncan Shalamov liked this. I scrolled to the next photo, this one of me standing in a parking lot pointing to a road sign that said Drive Like Your Kids Lives Here, but with the “kids” crossed out and replaced with “MAXIMUS PRIME”. Duncan liked that one, too, but honestly, anyone would like that. It was hilarious.

I began scrolling through photos again, but Duncan hadn’t liked anything else. That was probably a good thing. If he’d gone on some kind of crazed liking spree, it might come across as creepy. Still, I wanted to know what he thought—about me, about Josh, about anything. He was even more closed-off than I was, and I was starting to get desperate. I wasn’t sure why I bothered. I didn’t need a boyfriend. I was getting laid and I had a best friend who I hung out with all the time, so I had the duties of a boyfriend covered, right? Why was I so eager to deal with the heartache and drama again?

“Alright, this has gotta sit out for an hour,” I heard Josh say underneath the car. “We need it to be dry before we put it back in.”

Thad shuffled out from underneath the car, then Josh. Josh held… something in his hand. I assumed it was the fuel filter. He put it aside and then accepted a rag from Thad to clean off the worst of the grease on his hands. Thad said we could come inside and hang out during the wait, so that’s what we did.

“My nana’s sleeping and practically deaf, so we can do whatever. If you wanna watch TV, that’s fine. We don’t get cable though, so it’s just, like, the public stuff.”

“We’re fine without TV, I think. Can I use your bathroom though?” Josh asked.

Thad led Josh through a hallway past the living room. I sat in the one armchair in the empty living room, still checking my phone like an obsessed loser.

“You got a Wi-Fi name?” I asked Thad when he came back.

“We don’t have the internet either.”

“What? You don’t have internet or cable?”

“I just go to the library.”

“You’re living in the 80’s.”

“I like to call it ‘being poor’,” he replied.

Oh, right. “I didn’t mean to sound, uh, condescending…”

“Nah, it’s fine. I start a job tomorrow, and then we’ll have some cash. I’m thinking I might need another though.”

“Thad… how are you going to go to school full time and have two jobs?”

“What other choice do I have?”

Good question. I’ll admit, I wasn’t a scholar on social welfare programs. I wasn’t dripping in money at the moment, but if I ever got into dire straits, I could ask my mother for cash. Stupid Gary certainly had enough, even though he hated to share any with me.

“My dad sends a child support check on occasion,” Thad muttered. “He ain’t great about it though. Not unless my nana really hounds him about it.”

“What about your mom?”

“She sends some of what she can, I guess. Only recently has she been in a situation where she can give us any money at all, and who knows how long that’ll last.”

I wanted to ask him about his mother, because he seemed purposely vague about what the “situation” was. However, I was polite enough to know that we weren’t close enough friends for him to owe me that information.

“Honestly, money is tight and that sucks, but I’m still real excited to be here. I can’t complain.”

“You can always complain. About anything. That’s the American way.”

Thad chuckled. “Well, for now I’ll accept my blessings as they come. I’m out of Alabama, I got my car fixed for free, and school will be starting in a month.”

“You’re the only person I know who is excited about starting school.”

“I guess I’m like Harry Potter in that regard.”

Josh emerged from the bathroom, and we all spent the next forty-five minutes chatting. Thad asked more questions than he answered, and it soon became obvious that he and Josh got along about as well as Thad and I did. Something about Thad relaxed and comforted you, especially when he insisted we have more brownies and lemonade. I was amazed at how unlike an average teenager he was. Now that I was in my twenties, I enjoyed interacting as little as possible with people in their teens, partially because they’d made my life hell but also because it reminded me too much of what I was like at that age. But Thad came across as incredibly smart, good humored, kind, and gentle. Gentle was not a word I ever ascribed to teenagers, but that’s what described Thad best. I could only feverishly hope that no one at Thad’s new school would mock him for it. I expected that if he survived this long with such a vulnerable quality in tact, he was built of Teflon.

Eventually we returned to the car to put the filter back in. Josh took my car down the road to get some more gas—he’d drained it all when replacing the filter—and then returned for the moment of reckoning. After putting a gallon of gas in the tank, Josh asked Thad to fire ‘er up.

And whataya know, the car started right up.

Josh gave Thad a high-five once he got out of the front seat.

“I’ll be honest, that happens only forty percent of the time,” Josh said with a laugh. “Usually it’s, like, four other issues you gotta work out. I would get your spark plugs replaced though. They’re a ticking time bomb. I can show you if you need help.”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.”

Thad offered us more food, but we’d had our fill of cookies and brownies and had to make our exit. Josh was bold enough to go in for a half-hug, wrapping an arm around Thad and squeezing him briefly before pulling away.

“You call me if you need anything, alright? Not just car-related. I am a man of many talents.”

“Thank you so much for helping. If there’s any way I can repay you…”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve been an excellent host, and the food was great. I think I’ve put on five pounds in the past two hours.”

Once Josh got into the car, I felt a similar half-hug would be too bold, so I just stood there awkwardly, wondering what to say.

“Sorry I couldn’t offer much help.”

“I think you’ve done more than enough, Justin. Thank you for everythin’. You’ve been so generous.”

I don’t think I ever heard those words in that order before. “It’s no problem. Let me know if you need help with anything else.”

“Sure thing. Thanks again.” Thad nodded, paused, and turned to walk back into the house.

I watched him go until he disappeared through the front door, then got into my car.

“What a nice kid,” Josh said as I pulled out onto the street. “Don’t make them like that much anymore, do they?”

“I don’t think they ever did.”

“He made us brownies.” Josh shook his head with a smile. “Weird, but nice.”

“Now you can see why I wanted to help him out.”

“Yeah. Poor guy, taking care of his grandmother and struggling to pay the bills. Did he tell you what’s up with his parents?”

“Not really. I think his dad has been out of the picture for a while now, and he’s alluded to his mom having problems.”

“Maybe drug or alcohol-related?”

“Who knows. But he seems to be okay without his parents. He told me he got a 1520 on his SATs.”

Josh let out a low whistle. “He seemed pretty sharp when I was showing him how to clean the filter. Some people are real idiots about car repair.” At this, Josh waggled his eyebrows at me.

“I’m not an idiot, I just don’t care.”

Josh laughed. “Honestly, this whole situation is weird. You hit on a guy at a bus stop while drunk—”

“I was not hitting on him.”

“—and he just takes you at your word that you’re not a psycho, calls you up, and now you two are buds?”

“Not buds. Acquaintances. Christ, Josh, don’t make me sound like some creep.”

“I don’t think you’re a creep. I know how you look when you’re horny, and you don’t look like that.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“He’s way too young for you.”

“Ya think? Stop insinuating that I have this ulterior motive. I don’t. I’m just trying to help him out, that’s all. He’s in fucking high school.”

“Okay, okay, geez. Don’t go postal on me.”

I glowered at the windshield for a silent few seconds before sighing. “Sorry.”

“Didn’t mean to suggest you’re into jailbait.”

“I remember being the jailbait. Turns out guys way older than you don’t have great intentions when they’re nice to you.”

Josh stared at my profile—I could feel his eyes on me.

“What?” I asked when his gaze seemed particularly intense.

“Nothing. It’s just that you’ve always defended those way older guys. You’ve always told me it was just sex that didn’t mean anything.”

“I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

I tapped the steering wheel as we pulled up to a stop at a traffic light. I hadn’t really dug deep into my desire to help Thad, since it seemed like a natural thing to want. A kid was in trouble, you wanted to reach out. It could be that simple. Yet there was a vulnerability and innocence in him that struck me as familiar, especially during our conversation at Starbucks. I could recall being a weird nerdy kid at 15. I could recall the same bushy-tailed optimism that yearned for a safe space to bloom. The only difference between my 15-year-old self was that I craved acceptance in a way that Thad didn’t seem to share. That craving got me to my first party, got me drunk, got me high, got me into bed with questionable older men who promised things and then vanished the moment I needed someone to rely on.

What I needed at that age was a foul-mouthed and world-weary gay man with good fashion sense to protect me, one who never took advantage but steered me in the right direction.

Maybe Thad didn’t need that. But I felt compelled to be that for him. Maybe then he could hold onto that innocence and optimism until he no longer needed it.