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It’s not like I’m in love with him.
I’m a graduating college senior. I’ve been through enough flings and whatnot to know that love is just a chemical reaction between hormones and the occasional oil leaks.
No. It’s more complicated than that. It’s a strange curiosity. The moment I saw him at my favorite cafe across campus, I was immediately drawn to him.
I’ve always loved the smell of freshly poured motor oil in the morning. It’s my favorite smell in the entire world, but he immediately changed that.
It was my first day of senior year, and I made my daily visit to Mo’s Cafe just like I have been doing since freshman year. It’s tradition, really. My moment of peace before the chaos that is attending —University.
I have never known peace since that day. The day I accidentally spilled my Spanish Motor Oil on a cranky blue hornet. He gave me the hardest of times. I needed to rush to my first class of the day, but he insisted I pay him for the damage that spill was gonna do to his freshly waxed, metallic skin.
I didn’t have much in my trunk that day, or ever since my family cut me off after my career as a disgraced racer. I practically gave him my food allowance for the day. I was late for my class, and I was going to be starving for the day.
On paper, I should hate him. I mean I do. He makes my blood boil…my skin crawl…but he also makes my radiator act funny like I haven’t in a long while. It’s not quite love at first sight but spite. I feel spiteful, and that excites me.
Senior year is hopefully my last, and at first, I just wanted to breeze through it like oil in wheels. My most uneventful, peaceful year. Fate had other plans.
I rolled to my first class of the day in the worst possible building I could get assigned to, smelling of burnt oil from the spill. It could not get worse than that. Then, a familiar voice called my name for attendance.
“Mcqueen, Lightning?” that irksome voice called out.
“Present,” I hesitated before I looked up. Shit.
“I’m Dr. Hudson. I don’t usually accept latecomers, but since it seems you’ve run into trouble, this will be your first warning,” he looked at me up and down, noticing the visible grease spill on me.
This is going to be a miserable semester, but for him, detestably, I’ll come for sure.