Page 2 of Home for the Hockey-Days (Cedar Rapids Raccoons)

CHAPTER 2

Rowan

U nknown Number: Hey Rowan, my name’s August, I’m a senior at UCR. I hear you have open spaces for tutoring next semester? I’m struggling with, well, everything to be honest. I’m enrolled in both accounting ethics and law and advanced statistics, and could really do with a miracle to help me get through.

I stare at the message and heave out a sigh, reminding myself that I decided not to take on any tutoring clients this semester. After Christmas, I’m taking some me time. I’m focusing more on my own degree, I’m putting myself first, and I’m not going to let my inner need to help people bulldoze through that boundary.

‘No’ is a complete sentence. Or so I’m told. It’s something I still struggle with almost daily, but it’s okay being a work in progress, right?

The message on the screen pricks at my chest. I don’t have time right now to hit reply, just as well because I’m sure my traitorous thumbs would type out the word yes instead of no.

I swipe the message off my screen and tuck my phone in my purse. I’m late, and one thing my friend Athena loathes is tardiness. I’d rather make August wait a little bit for my not-a-knee-jerk reply than suffer the wrath of the bestie.

Fuck, it’s really starting to come down out there, and I stupidly left home without a jacket this morning. It’s one of those four-seasons-in-one-day kind of days, it was perfectly pleasant when I stepped outside at 8AM. But now? Flurries of snow drift down onto my car, and I’m starting to hope against hope it’ll stick around long enough for us to have a white Christmas.

I love Christmas, I love snow, and usually , when I have the appropriate clothing with me, I love the cold.

As I pull out of the Target parking lot on Edgewood, my phone rings through the in-car Bluetooth system. It’s Athena. Shocker.

“I’m on my way.” I don’t even say hello, Hen isn’t often one for pleasantries.

“You’re late.”

“I’m not late yet.” I glance at the dash to fact check. I’m right, I’m not late, I have at least two minutes before I’m officially considered tardy.

The light changes at the last second, and the piece of shit car in front of me stops when he really should have gone. It was yellow, he could have made it.

I slam on the brakes, but the car in front gets bigger and bigger as my car careens toward it.

Fuck.

I’m not stopping.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” I try to turn the car so it doesn’t hit the vehicle stopped at the light but it’s too late.

There’s a crunch of metal and an explosion of glass, and the airbag deploys. My body swings forward then slams back against the driver’s seat, knocking the wind out of my body .

“Row? Rowan? Are you okay?”

I groan. I’m fine, nothing hurts, at least I don’t think it hurts. The same can’t be said for my car, unfortunately.

A quick check out the window tells me both cars have seen better days. Motherfucker.

“I’m fine, but I gotta go deal with this. Just a fender bender, no drama.” I hang up before pinching the bridge of my nose, because this is all drama. The car in front of me is a piece of shit, the paint is splotchy, there’s patches of rust, and I’m not even sure how it’s still considered road-worthy. Hopefully the person driving it isn’t a dick, and the insurance company will figure it out.

The man who gets out of the car isn’t what I expected. I dunno, I guess I thought he’d be older. Instead, he’s young, kinda hot, and a freakin’ giant. And from the scowl creasing up his face, he’s very, very pissed.

He stops at the back of his car and observes the damage, shaking his head. He’s muttering something to himself. I think I’m glad I can’t hear whatever it is.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, get out of the car, and smooth down the front of my shirt. “Are you hurt?”

His brown eyes bore into me as I search his face, his broad chest, then his face again. His jaw is strong and covered with a dusting of dark hair, his nose has a bend in the middle, and his eyebrow has a scar through it.

I can’t stop staring, and it’s not because I’m searching for injury.

“I’m fine.” He grunts at me. “You?”

Why isn’t he yelling at me? I just crashed into his car. One look at his vehicle and even I can tell it’s not good.

We’re both standing in the middle of the road, people are trying to drive around us but from the frequency of the honks we’re getting, we need to move our cars pretty damn quick.

I nod. “I think I’m okay.” I gesture at the back of his car. I’m not a professional, but I think it’s a goner. “I’m so sorry about your car. I tried to stop but... the ice.”

His face doesn’t soften, he’s still staring at the bumper hanging off the back of his vehicle and the pile of glass fragments on the ground.

“I... I’m not sure what to do after an accident, do you know?” I’m not making the assumption he’s been in a long line of fender benders, but this is my first ever accident. I’m clueless.

He nods at me. “We should move out of the way, and exchange information.” He snaps a picture of my license plate. It’s smart, on the off chance I flee the scene he’s got a picture of my vehicle. Then he snaps a picture of my face.

“Hey!”

He shrugs. “Just in case you run.” He points across the road to Casey’s gas station. “Over there.”

He gets in his jalopy and drives, so I follow. When we’re parked up safely, he gets back out of the car, pulling a coat from the back seat and shivering as he slips it over his huge frame.

He grabs a notebook out of a backpack on the floor of the back seat and hands it to me with a pen. “Name, address, vehicle registration number. And I’ll call the cops.”

My stomach tightens as my core temp drops another few degrees. “Th-the cops?” I absently scrawl down my details and hand him back the notebook.

His face is stern as he taps his screen. “And we need to file a written report within seventy two hours of the accident if there’s any injury, or damage of over fifteen hundred bucks. You should report it to your insurance company.”

He jerks his chin at the phone in my hand before he stares at the damage, and the blood drains from my body. Fifteen hundred dollars? It can’t be that much. “You think there’s that much damage? ”

He’s already listening to a ringing sound on his phone. Wanting to get ahead of whatever is cooking on the other end of his call, I dial my insurance company to report the accident.

I stare at his mouth as he talks to whoever is on the call as I answer the insurance operator’s questions on my line, telling them everything that happened.

“Yes, that’s right.” My blood runs cold as the operator’s words sink into my brain. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you don’t have insurance coverage with our company.”

“Th-that’s not possible. My parents... I’m on their insurance....” Panic grips my chest, tightening around my lungs. Fuck. Breathe. It’s just an admin error, she’s going to check her system and find the correct information.

I just need to keep breathing.

“Yes, Ms. Armistead. I just double checked, your insurance ran out.”

Something clicks in my head. “No, it didn’t run out. My parents were paying and changed it over to my account. It was on autopay.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Armistead, but there was no autopay set up on this account, your insurance premium hasn’t been paid for a number of weeks now.”

No. No, no, no, no, it can’t be. Sh-she has to be wrong. I have to have insurance. The guy whose car I hit makes eye contact with me, his brows furrowing at whatever he sees on my face.

“We can set you up with new insurance. I’ll need your payment details...” The insurance operator’s voice fades into the background as my head spins. My chest is so tight I’m afraid it might implode as I suck shallow gasps of air into my lungs.

How am I going to pay for the repairs to my car? To his car? And restarting my insurance all at once? Shit. Could I go to jail for driving without insurance? What are the laws in Iowa?

My hands tremble, my legs shake, and somewhere in the distance a woman’s voice sounds like a faint echo at the end of a long corridor. “Your insurance premium will increase substantially after this accident.”

I don’t know how long passes before cold hands pry the phone from my quivering fingers. A muffled voice says something, and I think he hangs up.

The stranger clicks his fingers in front of my face but my body is consumed with panic. When he cradles my face with both hands, he raises his voice, and breaks through the fog.

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head. “My insurance lapsed. My parents were transferring the insurance to me, and I thought I set up autopay, but I didn’t, and the lady on the phone, she said...” I heave out a sob. “She said I’m not insured.”

His face remains impassive. “My car’s a write-off. I have a buddy coming over to take it to the junkyard.”

“Y-you know that from looking at it?”

If I’m not mistaken, he’s smiling, and that sound he’s making is a chuckle. “I think everyone knows by looking at her that Rusty’s a write-off.”

“Rusty?” That makes me smile. “You called your car Rusty?”

He shrugs. “I give all my cars names.”

My fingers are numb, I’m not sure if it’s shock, panic, the cold, or the fact I owe this guy a shit ton of money out of my own pocket. Money that I don’t have.

I’m so lost in my own fear and dread I’m honestly not sure what happens in the minutes that follow. A guy comes to pick up the stranger I rear-ended, he says something to me but I’m only half listening, and he hands me a crumpled piece of paper which I shove in my pocket .

As he drives away, Athena appears. “You okay?” How does she make sub-zero temperatures look so damn glamorous?

“I-I’m not really sure. I trashed his car.” I point at Rusty hooked up to the back of a tow-truck making her way to car heaven. “And I had no insurance. I-I...” My hands shake, and Athena curls my hands inside hers.

“We’ll figure it out.”

A glimmer of hope flickers in my chest. I hate the idea of borrowing money from Athena, but maybe this is my way of getting myself out of the frying pan and avoiding vaulting into the fire.

“My parents stopped paying the insurance. I thought I’d set up autopay, but I guess I haven’t. I need to pay for his car repair...” I rake my hand through my hair. “Replacement, I guess. Shit. Fuck. I need to fix my car. And I need to pay for insurance.” Tears stream down my face.

“Why did your parents stop paying your insurance?” She’s still holding both my hands.

“They want me to learn financial responsibility, how to adult by my big girl self.” I shrug on a sigh, a shiver slithering through my body, reminding me of how cold I am.

Athena nods. “A worthy endeavor.” She stares at me for a long moment, chewing the inside of her cheek. “Here’s the deal. I’ll loan you the money to cover the damages on your car, but we’ll need to arrange a payment plan, and make sure you’re still learning to be a boss bitch.”

She rubs her palms down my arms. “Tranquilo, amigo. We’ll figure it out.”

Air flows into my lungs a little easier on the next breath. “You’ll help me?”

“Of course I’ll help you.” She scrunches her face up like she’s offended I implied otherwise. “We’re family.”

Something unknots in my chest, just enough for a breath to snake past and into my lungs. “I swear, Hen. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”

She nods. “I know you will. It’s all going to be okay.”

I have no idea how things will be okay, but my bestie is going to bail me out long enough to figure out a path forward.

So much for a Merry fucking Christmas.

Guess I’m not giving up that tutoring gig after all.