Page 44 of Win You Over

Holden

“ W hat part am I cleaning?” I ask, looking up at my best friend, taking in the frown lines across his forehead and the way he’s chewing his bottom lip.

“You need to clean the switch.” Theo turns back to his phone where an instructional video on how to fix vintage turntables is playing.

“I don’t know what the switch looks like.” I peer at the exposed underside of the unit, a microfiber cloth in one hand and a screwdriver in the other.

Theo turns the phone to me and shows me.

Shaking my head, I slump against the wall with a huff.

“Nothing inside looks like that. This was a terrible idea.”

Theo laughs, shaking his head. “We’re not giving up!” Theo shuffles onto his knees and hits play on the video again. He fiddles with the machine’s inner mechanisms, issuing me instructions which I follow without argument.

“Finn came into the cafe again yesterday,” he says, his attention still on the record player and the screw he’s removing.

I bristle. “Did you talk to him?”

Theo shakes his head then hands me the small steel object I am pretty sure he shouldn’t have removed.

“Never do. He simply sits in the corner, orders coffee, watches me and then leaves.”

Finn hasn’t returned to campus despite classes starting back up two weeks ago. Remi hasn’t mentioned him, not since the day I came in from work to find him curled up in his bed with dried tear stains on his cheeks.

He’s still sad. He tries to hide it, but I see the way he stares at his phone, like he’s waiting for a message that never comes.

And I notice the crack in his mask when something from his past comes up and I’m certain there’s a story there that involves Finn.

Their history cannot be erased or ignored.

And now, for whatever reason, Finn is making regular appearances at the coffee shop where Theo works.

“You could tell your boss to ban him if it’s creeping you out.”

Theo sits back on his knees, a long piece of metal in his hand and a grin on his face.

“Don’t be dramatic. He’s the least creepy guy I’ve seen this week.”

“I still don’t like it,” I say.

Theo shrugs. “I know. But he’s just another customer.”

I want to argue, but I don’t because Theo is right. Finn is a customer and I can’t stop him from being there even if I don’t like his proximity to my friend.

We fall silent while the two of us try to work out how all the pieces we removed fit back in. When we’re finally done, I wipe my hands on my jeans and sit back.

“Where does this go?” Theo holds up a solitary silver screw.

We both look at the completed unit, none the wiser where the remaining item fits. We did not have a spare when we started.

“No idea.” I shrug. “Let’s see if it works.” Turning over the record player, I carefully open the scratched up lid and put in an old record I bought in a thrift store. Then, we hold our collective breaths as I press start.

At first, nothing happens, and then, as if it needed time to warm up, the record spins and the needle moves over it, eliciting a tinny, scratching sound that slowly morphs into music.

“Fuck yes!” Theo pumps his hand in the air, the screw flying from it and landing somewhere in the room.

I let it play for a few minutes before I hit stop once, then twice, then a third time. Nothing happens. The record continues playing, skipping over to the next song.

“Well, shit,” Theo says, running a hand through his unruly red locks while looking at the turntable like it’s offended him.

“At least it works,” I say, pulling the plug from the wall to make it stop. “Kind of, anyway.”

Theo stands, and I follow, stretching my aching legs.

“You taking it with you to your new place?” Theo asks, a smirk twisting on his lips.

“Haha.”

“What?” He holds up his hands with mock innocence. “You’re barely ever here.”

Theo has a point, but I refuse to leave him with the full cost of the room to pay for. So while I may sleep in Remington’s bed most nights of the week, eat with his family every day, and have an entire closet to myself at his place, I technically still live here.

“It can stay here,” I say, answering his earlier question. “And I do live here.”

Theo puts a hand on my shoulder.

“I can find another roommate, if you want to move out, Holden. I won’t hold it against you.”

Shaking my head, I turn to face my best friend.

“No. I’m happy the way things are. Unless you want to share with someone else?”

He scoffs. “And give up having the room to myself six nights a week? Hell, no.”

“See? This arrangement works perfectly for both of us.”

Theo smiles, then gestures to the bedroom door.

“I brought some leftovers from the cafe. Come, let me feed you before you ditch me for the night.”

“Look at it go! Look at it go!” Curtis yells, jumping on the spot as I steer the buggy around the outdoor circuit.

My fingers fly over the controller, trying not to knock into the car in front of me.

My car – the Track Hugger 3000 – hits a ramp, shooting into the air and I hold a breath, releasing it as the car lands with all four wheels on the ground.

“Yes!” Curtis exclaims, knocking my shoulder with his. “One more lap. You’re acing this.”

Remington is quiet, though from the corner of my eye, I can see he’s smiling.

I take the corner too wide and my car knocks into the rubber edging, slowing me down enough for someone to pass me.

“Letting them beat you, leeutjie ,” Remi singsongs next to me. He’s smug – as usual – because he won his race earlier. He also hasn’t let me forget how good he was the first time his dad brought him to this club.

My boyfriend, the overachiever.

I’m catching up to the car in first place when another, larger car built like a fucking tank, crashes into me from the side.

Someone laughs and there’s a subtle growl under Remi’s breath as my buggy comes to a complete standstill.

Three more cars overtake me before I get my car back in the right direction.

By the time I complete my final lap, I place fifth.

“Not too bad for your first time,” Curtis says, patting me on the back before he moves onto the circuit to collect the remote controlled car.

“Not bad for your first time.” Remi repeats his dad’s words. His lips quirk up and I know him well enough to know what’s coming. “But not as good as my first time.”

There you go.

I swat his chest and he loops a hand around my shoulder, his other sliding up and tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer and plants his lips on mine.

“Don’t worry baby, you may suck at fighting and racing cars, but I can think of something you’re really good at.” He bites my lip, steps back and then because he is an infuriating fucker – who I love with my entire heart – he winks.

Remington and his dad talk about cars the entire way home. Remote controlled cars, vintage cars, sports cars…. I zone out somewhere around a discussion on flying cars and instead check in with Theo. It’s been a week since we fixed the record player and had dinner together.

Me: What are you doing?

Theo: Finished work ten minutes ago. Heading home now. You in tonight?

Me: Nope.

Theo: Ditch the douche canoe and come have pizza with me.

Theo: Joking.

Me: About the pizza?

I bite back a smile as I wait for a reply.

Theo: About the douche canoe.

Me: Sure you are ;)

Theo changes the topic with his next question, something I hadn’t yet had a chance to speak to him about.

Theo: Did you speak to the campus therapist yesterday?

Me: Yeah. She was nice. I don’t know if it’ll help, but I’m open to trying.

Soon after we returned from Italy, I started looking into therapists and what it would cost to see someone regularly. I mentioned it at dinner one evening, and Charlene suggested I look into what support the university could offer.

It never crossed my mind to ask the university, so it surprised me when they’d quickly set up a meeting with a doctor who offers therapy sessions for students. And as I am on a scholarship, her rates are massively reduced.

Theo : Tell me all about it over pizza tonight? Maybe we can look at the turntable again.

A grin settles on my face. The old vintage record player is going to be an ongoing challenge for us – I know it.

I type a reply to confirm our pizza date, just as we arrive back at the Langfords’.

When we walk in, the house smells like apple pie and my mouth waters. Charlene walks out of the kitchen, a daisy print apron covering her lime green sundress.

“How was RC Club?” she asks, kissing Curtis on the cheek.

“Amazing,” he replies. “Holden was a natural.”

I’m not sure you can be a ‘natural’ at racing remote controlled cars, but I’ll take it. It was a lot more fun than I expected and while I don’t share their enthusiasm, it is something I will happily do again.

“Great. We’re going to braai tonight,” she says looking at her husband and then to me and Remi.

“I’m not in for dinner this evening,” I say. “You’re not?” Remington asks before adding, “Dinner with Theo?”

I nod.

“Enjoy,” his mom says, “And bring Theo around to meet us sometime.”

She walks to the console near the front door and picks up a package.

“Before I forget,” she looks at Remi and then at me. “I got this back for you.”

Charlene places the parcel in my hand, the weight settling on my open palm.

Carefully, I tear open the packaging, my hand trembling when I pull out the contents. My eyes sting as I look at my dad’s knife.

“How?” I ask, my gaze shifting from the knife to Charlene and then to Curtis next to her.

“I have my ways.” She grins at her husband. “We had it cleaned,” she adds seconds before I wrap my arms around her neck, hugging her tightly, careful to keep the knife well away from her body.

“Thank you.”

My heart broke when I lost it, but I couldn’t tell Remington that – couldn’t put even more on him, so I tried to forget it even existed.

“Our pleasure,” she replies, then she and Curtis leave the room and Remi takes my hand in his, guiding us up the stairs.