Chapter Text
The sun was just creeping over the Wyoming horizon, spilling pale orange light across the endless stretches of open fields. The road ahead was long and straight, flanked by tall pines and patches of wildflowers swaying in the morning breeze. Joel’s old truck rumbled steadily over the asphalt, the hum of the engine blending with the soft country radio playing in the background.
Ellie slouched in the passenger seat, her backpack hugged tight against her chest. She kept her earbuds in, pretending to listen to music even though the playlist had ended ten minutes ago. She pressed her forehead against the cold window, staring at the blur of scenery as it passed by.
Boston felt a lifetime away now, with its crowded streets, cramped apartments, and the lingering echo of a city that had never really felt like home. Here, everything was wide open and quiet—but that quiet made her stomach twist in nervous anticipation.
“Jackson High,” Joel said, tapping the steering wheel with his thumb. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of unease he couldn’t quite mask. “First day. New town. Don’t worry too much about it. School’s school. Teachers, lockers, homework… ain’t much different no matter where you are.”
Ellie pulled one earbud out and glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? You sound like someone who hasn’t been in high school since dinosaurs roamed the Earth.”
Joel huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Careful. I can still turn this truck around.”
“Please do,” Ellie muttered, staring out the window at the wide-open sky. The truth was, her stomach had been in knots since they left the house that morning. New town, new school, new people—new everything. She wasn’t sure if she had the energy to start over again.
Joel must’ve sensed it. His voice softened. “Look… I know it’s a lot. Movin’, leavin’ your previous life and friends behind. But Jackson’s a good place. Folks here look out for each other. You’ll see.”
Ellie pressed her forehead against the cool glass again. “I didn’t exactly have a ton of friends back in Boston,” she said quietly. “Not really losing much.”
Joel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t push. He’d learned in the months since Ellie came to live with him that she hated being pitied. She was sharp-tongued and stubborn, sometimes to a fault. But underneath it all, she was still just a kid trying to figure out where she fit.
“You’re gonna be fine,” he said finally, his Texas drawl low and steady. “Just… don’t let anyone push you around. You’re tougher than you think.”
Ellie rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She didn’t tell him that she wasn’t exactly sure what ‘tough’ looked like in a school full of angsty teenagers.
“Hey,” Joel said, breaking the silence again. “You’re gonna have a soccer tryout today, right?”
Ellie’s head snapped up. She’d almost forgotten about that. “Yeah, after school,” she mumbled, pulling the other earbud completely out. It was the one thing she’d been looking forward to, a small anchor in the maelstrom of newness. But even that was a source of fresh anxiety. What if she wasn’t good enough? What if the coach was a jerk? What if she couldn't connect with anyone on the team?
Joel caught her eye, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “Good. Get out there. Kick some ass. You’re good with the ball, kid. When they see you play, they’ll practically beg you to join. Just go out there and do what you do.”
A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched Ellie’s lips. He was right. Soccer had always been her escape, the one place she felt completely in control, powerful. But it had also been in Boston, with the old rutted fields and the familiar, if not particularly close, faces of her former teammates.
“It’s different without Riley,” Ellie said, her voice barely a whisper. She immediately regretted it. She didn’t want to talk about Riley. Not now. Not ever, if she could help it.
Joel’s smile faded. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well… you gotta find what makes you happy, kiddo. New town, new team. Opportunity.” He gave her a pointed look. “Just because things change doesn’t mean you stop living.”
Ellie just stared out the window, watching the distant mountains sharpen into focus. He was trying, she knew. Trying to be the dad she never had, trying to fill a void that felt too big to ever be filled. Sometimes it felt like he was constantly walking on eggshells around her, and other times, like just now, he’d drop a truth bomb that felt a little too heavy.
The truck slowed as they approached a cluster of buildings in the distance. A banner above the main entrance read Jackson High, bright against the pale brick. Ellie’s stomach flipped. The parking lot was already buzzing with students, some leaning against their cars, others walking in groups, chatting and laughing. It looked… normal. Unexceptionally, frighteningly normal.
“Alright, kiddo,” Joel said, pulling into an empty parking spot a little further down than most of the student cars. “This is it.” He turned off the engine, and the sudden quiet in the truck was deafening, only broken by the distant hum of other vehicles and the chatter of teenagers.
Ellie’s hand instinctively tightened on her backpack strap. “Yeah, I see it.” She didn’t move. Her gaze swept over the fresh faces, the bright clothes, the easy laughter that felt completely alien to her.
Joel cleared his throat. “Want me to walk you in?”
She whipped her head to him, a scowl on her face. “Are you kidding? No. Absolutely not. I’m sixteen, not six.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Alright, alright. Just offering. Some parents do that on the first day in a new town.”
“Well, my parents don’t,” she retorted, then immediately winced internally. The word ‘parents’ still felt like a punch to the gut. Joel’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes held a flicker of something she couldn’t quite decipher—concern, maybe.
He nodded, running a hand over his beard. “Right. Well. Just… if you need anything, you call me. Or Tommy.”
Tommy was Joel’s brother, a gruff but kind man who’d already promised Ellie a job at his ranch if school didn’t pan out. It was a joke, mostly, but also his way of reminding her she wasn’t alone.
Ellie just grunted, unbuckling her seatbelt. The air outside the truck was cooler than she expected, crisp with the smell of pine and something vaguely like damp earth. She pulled her backpack onto her shoulders, the familiar weight a small comfort.
“And remember what I said,” Joel added, his voice a low growl. “Don’t let anyone give you crap.”
“Got it.” Ellie gave a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Joel.”
Ellie tightened her grip on her backpack straps and took a step forward. Her sneakers crunched against the gravel, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel Joel’s eyes on her as she walked toward the crowd of students, feeling the weight of new beginnings press down on her.
But somewhere deep inside, beneath the fear, there was a spark—a tiny, stubborn spark that refused to be snuffed out. She was Ellie, and she was going to survive this too.
Joel watched her go, hands still on the wheel, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “Go get ‘em, kiddo,” he whispered, almost to himself.
The inside of Jackson High was brighter than she expected—polished linoleum floors, lockers lining both sides, bulletin boards plastered with flyers about upcoming dances, bake sales, and sports tryouts. Voices echoed around her, groups of kids gathering and dispersing, laughter rising above the noise like waves crashing against the shore.
She tried not to look too out of place, though she knew she probably stuck out like a sore thumb. New girl, alone, walking a little too carefully as if the building itself might bite her.
A voice broke through the buzz of chatter.
“You must be Ellie.”
Ellie turned to see a tall woman with a commanding presence striding toward her. Her hair was tied back into a neat braid, her posture strong, and her eyes sharp but not unkind. She wore a Jackson High staff polo, a whistle looped around her neck, and a clipboard in one hand.
She looked young for a coach, maybe mid-twenties, with blue eyes that seemed to size Ellie up in a matter of seconds.
“Uh… yeah. That’s me,” Ellie muttered, shoving her hands into her hoodie pocket.
The woman gave a warm smile and extended her hand. “I’m Coach Anderson. Abby. Principal said you were interested in trying out for the soccer team?”
Ellie blinked, surprised the coach already knew her name. She shifted her backpack nervously, then shook Abby’s hand. “I mean… yeah, I’ve played. Mostly back in Boston. We weren’t, like… state champions or anything.” She shrugged, her cheeks warming a little under Abby’s steady gaze. “But… I like it.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Abby nodded, her voice brisk but encouraging. “We’ll get you settled in and see where you fit. You’ll meet the rest of the team soon.” She started walking, motioning for Ellie to follow.
Abby pointed things out as they walked—the gym, the cafeteria, the trophy case with Jackson High’s proudest wins. “We take sports seriously here, but we also look out for each other. The Fireflies aren’t just a team, they’re a family. That’s what I expect from every player.”
Ellie gave a small nod, though she couldn’t help but feel the weight of those words. A family. She wasn’t sure if she really knew what that meant outside of Joel.
“So, I heard you’re living with your foster dad, right?” Abby asked casually, her tone neither prying nor judgmental.
Ellie hesitated. She didn’t like the word foster—it made her feel like a temporary project—but she nodded. “Yeah. Joel.”
Abby gave her another quick glance, a slight, knowing curve to her lips. “Heard good things. Sounds like a solid guy.” She paused, then asked, still in that casual, non-prying way, “So, what brought you two to Jackson?”
Ellie shuffled her feet, looking down at the polished floor. It was a question she’d practiced answering in her head, though she still felt a familiar awkwardness explaining her life to strangers. “Well, Joel… he has a brother here. Tommy. And his wife, Maria.”
Abby nodded slowly, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes—understanding, perhaps. “Ah, so a family connection strong enough to pull you across the country, huh?” She smiled, a genuine warmth spreading across her face. “That’s good.”
Ellie just hummed in response, not sure what else to say. It was more complicated than just ‘family.’ It was safety, a fresh start, a lifeline Joel had grabbed onto for both of them. But she didn't need to explain all that to Coach Anderson.
They turned a corner into a wider hall, where a group of students stood clustered around a row of lockers. At the center, laughing and tossing a soccer ball between her hands, was a girl Ellie’s age. She had dark, wavy hair tied into a ponytail, her eyes brown and expressive, and she wore her uniform jacket half-zipped like she couldn’t care less.
“That’s Dina,” Abby said, her voice tinged with pride. “Captain. Best striker we’ve got.”
As if on cue, Dina caught sight of them. Her laughter softened, and her gaze locked on Ellie. For a split second, Ellie forgot how to breathe.
Something electric flickered in the air between them—nothing was said, no words exchanged, but Ellie felt it deep in her chest, a sudden awareness she couldn’t name. Dina tilted her head slightly, curiosity sparking in her eyes as if she’d just spotted something—or someone—she wasn’t expecting.
Ellie quickly looked away, pretending to study the floor tiles. Her ears burned, but she forced herself to keep walking, keeping pace with Abby.
Dina called out, “Hey, Coach! Who’s the new girl?”
Abby stopped, resting a hand lightly on Ellie’s shoulder. “This is Ellie. Just moved here. She’s thinking about joining the Fireflies.”
The soccer ball thudded into Dina’s hands as she grinned, the kind of grin that was both welcoming and mischievous. “Cool. We could use someone new. What position do you play?”
Ellie shifted under the sudden spotlight, mumbling, “Midfield, usually. Sometimes defense.”
Dina’s smile grew. “Midfield, huh? Alright. You’ll have to show me what you’ve got.” Her tone wasn’t challenging—it was playful, almost teasing.
Ellie swallowed hard, forcing a smirk. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”
Abby chuckled, breaking the tension. “Alright, save it for the field, you two. Bell’s about to ring.” She nudged Ellie forward gently, guiding her toward the main office.
As they walked, Ellie risked a glance back. Dina was still watching her, ball tucked under one arm, a spark of interest in her eyes. Ellie quickly snapped her gaze forward again, heart thumping a little too fast.
-
The bell rang sharp and loud, echoing down the hallways like a fire alarm. Ellie flinched slightly, clutching the strap of her backpack tighter as students spilled into classrooms. Abby had dropped her off at the main office, where a secretary handed her a folded schedule and a crinkled map of the school.
“Don’t get lost,” the woman had said with a polite but distracted smile.
Easier said than done.
Ellie’s first class was English. She found the room with some effort, slipping in just before the second bell. The teacher, a balding man in corduroy pants, glanced at the roster and gave her the kind of look teachers always gave new kids—half pity, half expectation.
“Class, this is Ellie. She’s new. Everyone say hello.”
A dull chorus of hellos floated up, some genuine, most bored. Ellie gave an awkward nod, shoving her hands deeper into her hoodie pocket before slinking into an empty desk in the back row.
The next forty minutes dragged. They were analyzing a short story, but Ellie barely paid attention. Instead, she doodled in the margin of her notebook—tiny mushrooms, guitars, little cartoon dinosaurs. Every so often she caught a student peeking at her, whispering something to a neighbor. The stares burned her ears, but she kept her head down.
Math wasn’t much better. Science was tolerable—at least the teacher was animated enough to keep her from zoning out completely. But each class felt the same: she was the new face, the curiosity. Nobody said much beyond a quick “where you from?” or “what’s your name again?” before turning back to their own lives.
By the time lunch rolled around, Ellie was exhausted.
The cafeteria smelled of fried food and bleach, a chaotic mess of clattering trays and shouting voices. Students crowded into booths and tables, laughing, throwing chips, scrolling through their phones. Ellie grabbed the safest thing she could find—a slice of pizza and a carton of chocolate milk—and headed for an empty table in the corner.
She dropped into it, setting her tray aside untouched. Instead, she dug into her backpack and pulled out her beat-up journal—its cover covered in stickers and half-faded marker doodles—and her cheap earbuds. She shoved them in, the opening guitar chords of an old cassette recording Joel had digitized for her bleeding into her ears. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Cure—Joel’s “classics,” as he called them.
She was so caught up she didn’t notice someone stop at her table until a shadow fell across her notebook.
“Whatcha listening to?”
Ellie looked up sharply. Dina stood there, her tray balanced in one hand. She wasn’t smiling in that fake-friendly way some kids had—she was curious, genuinely so.
Ellie tugged one earbud out. “Uh… music.”
Dina arched a brow. “No kidding. What kind? Can I guess? You look like… hmm, indie rock? Maybe something old-school?”
Ellie smirked faintly. “Maybe. Not telling.”
Dina leaned a little closer, eyes glinting with curiosity. “And what about that?” She nodded at Ellie’s journal. “What do you draw?”
Ellie’s hand shot over the page, half-covering her sketch. “Stuff.”
“Stuff, huh?” Dina’s smile didn’t falter, but she tilted her head, studying Ellie. “You know… you don’t have to sit alone. My friends and I are over there.” She gestured toward a lively table across the room, filled with kids laughing and tossing fries at each other. “You could join us.”
Ellie’s chest tightened. For a second, the invitation sounded tempting—an easy way in, a bridge to something normal. But the thought of walking into that group, trying to fit herself into their rhythm, made her throat feel tight.
“Nah. I’m good here,” she said, sharper than she intended.
Dina blinked, surprised, but she covered it quickly with a shrug. “Alright… your call. Just thought I’d ask.”
Before the silence could stretch too long, a tall Asian boy with dark hair and an easy smile approached. He slung his arm casually around Dina’s shoulder, looking between them.
“Hey, D, you coming?” he asked her, then gave Ellie a polite nod. “New kid, right? I’m Jesse.”
Ellie managed a nod back, her jaw tight. “Ellie.”
“Cool. Well… see you around.” He turned his attention back to Dina. “Come on, table’s filling up.”
Dina hesitated, giving Ellie one last look. It wasn’t pity—at least Ellie didn’t think so—but it was something softer, like she didn’t want to walk away just yet.
But she did.
Ellie slid her earbud back in, burying herself in her music, her pencil scratching the page harder than before. The pizza went cold on her tray.
She told herself she didn’t care. She didn’t need some table of popular kids. She didn’t need Dina’s smile or Jesse’s easy introductions.
Still, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the sound of Dina’s laughter carried easily across the cafeteria. And Ellie couldn’t help but glance over—just once—at the table where Dina sat surrounded by friends, bright and confident, as if she belonged to this place in a way Ellie couldn’t imagine herself ever doing.
The final bell rang, and Ellie stuffed her books into her locker with a little too much force. Her head buzzed with exhaustion from the day, but her chest thrummed with something else—anticipation.
Soccer tryouts.
By the time she found the girls’ locker room, her stomach was tied in knots. The muffled sounds of laughter and chatter echoed off the tiled walls, sneakers squeaking against the floor.
Ellie pushed open the door and froze for a moment. Inside, a cluster of girls in matching practice jerseys were stretching, tying up cleats, and tossing jokes back and forth.
A tall, dark-skinned girl with a shaved head. “Hey—new face,” she said, grinning. “You lost, or you one of us?”
Before Ellie could answer, another girl, shorter with dark hair tied up in a bun, chimed in. “She’s the Boston transfer, right? Coach told us.”
Ellie cleared her throat, shifting her backpack nervously. “Yeah. Ellie. I’m here for tryouts.”
The dark-skinned girl gave a sharp whistle. “Welcome to the Fireflies… or, well, almost.” She smirked. “I’m Nora. This is Astrid, Cat, Mel, Ashley, Laura, Rebecca, Leah, Bonnie, and Bethany.” She gestured around the room as the other girls lifted hands or nodded in greeting.
Ellie gave an awkward wave. “Hey.”
Leah, pale and brunette, spoke up while adjusting her shin guards. “You any good, Boston?”
Ellie smirked faintly. “Guess you’ll find out.”
“Locker’s open over there,” Ashley said, pointing toward the far wall. “Better get changed before Coach comes in. She doesn’t like stragglers.”
Ellie nodded quickly, slipping past the group. She caught snatches of conversation behind her—teammates talking about classes, weekend plans, inside jokes she didn’t understand. For a moment, she felt like an outsider again. But as she pulled on the crisp white practice jersey and laced her cleats, that nervousness began to turn into something else—hunger.
On the field, the late afternoon sun spilled gold across the grass. Abby was already there, whistle slung around her neck, arms crossed. “Alright, ladies, line up! Warm-up jog, two laps.”
Ellie fell into step beside the others, her heartbeat steadying with each stride. She wasn’t the tallest or the fastest, but she moved with an ease that drew attention. After drills, Abby split them into small scrimmage teams.
Ellie’s turn came with the ball at midfield.
“Alright, Boston,” Cat called from the sideline, hands cupped around her mouth. “Show us what you’ve got.”
Ellie smirked faintly, pulling her shoulders back. Okay. Let’s do this.
The first touch was smooth, her foot guiding the ball like she’d been born with it. She darted past Leah with a feint, spun around Rebecca with a sharp cut, and launched the ball across the field with startling accuracy. The pass landed perfectly at Astrid’s feet, who nearly tripped out of sheer surprise before sending it into the net.
A whistle blew. Abby’s voice carried. “Nice one, Ellie!”
Cheers and whoops echoed from a few teammates.
Ellie grinned, sweat already dampening her hair. Confidence surged. The next possession she didn’t bother passing—she drove straight down the middle, weaving between defenders like she owned the field. The final strike was clean, the ball thudding into the back of the net with a satisfying thunk.
The sideline erupted again. “Damn, she’s good!” Mel muttered, half impressed, half wary.
“Too good,” Bonnie whispered back.
Ellie jogged back to position with a cocky tilt of her chin, biting back a smirk. “Not bad for a new kid, huh?”
Her teammates exchanged looks. Rebecca whistled low. “Careful, Cap! She’s coming for your crown!”
That earned a round of laughs, even from Laura, who added, “Yeah, Dina, you might wanna hold onto that armband a little tighter.”
That’s when Ellie noticed Dina. She was standing near the goalpost, arms crossed, eyes sharp. She hadn’t said much during the scrimmage, but now her friends were grinning and nudging her.
Ellie, cocky as hell, winked at her before jogging back into position.
Dina rolled her eyes. “Relax. One scrimmage doesn’t make you captain.”
The rest of the tryouts turned into a blur of drills, passes, and shots on goal. Ellie pushed herself harder, reveling in the rush of competition. By the end, she was drenched in sweat, lungs burning, but she didn’t care. She’d shown them what she could do.
Her team had won largely thanks to her midfield control. She jogged off the field, chest heaving, and yanked her water bottle from her bag.
Abby blew the final whistle, gathering the girls. “Alright, that’s enough for today.” She scanned the group, her gaze pausing on Ellie. “I think we’ve seen what we need to see.”
The team huddled, some still laughing and ribbing Dina, others stealing glances at Ellie.
“Ellie,” Abby said finally, voice steady and loud. “Welcome to the Fireflies.”
A few claps and cheers rose up—some genuine, some begrudging. Ellie grinned despite herself, heart pounding with a mix of pride and relief.
“Thanks, Coach,” she muttered, trying to sound casual, though inside she was practically glowing.
As they filed back toward the locker room, Dina walked just a few steps behind Ellie. Their eyes met once, briefly. Dina’s expression was unreadable—pride, irritation, curiosity, maybe all at once.
Whatever it was, it made Ellie’s smirk widen just a little more.
-
The sky was streaked with pink and gold by the time practice ended. The air had cooled, the faint bite of Wyoming evening settling over the field. Ellie stuffed her cleats into her duffel and slung it over her shoulder, still buzzing with adrenaline. Her hair clung damply to her forehead, and her muscles hummed with that tired-but-satisfied ache she hadn’t felt in months.
Joel’s truck was already parked at the edge of the lot. He was leaning on the hood, arms crossed, a thermos of coffee resting beside him.
Ellie couldn’t help the smirk tugging at her lips. “You look like some cowboy waiting on a duel.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, pushing off the hood. “And you look like you just ran through a damn sprinkler. How’d it go?”
She wanted to play it cool, to shrug it off like it was nothing—but the grin slipped out anyway, unstoppable. “Crushed it.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “That so?”
“Yeah,” she said, sitting up straighter. “Scored two assists, shut down their midfield, even the captain is impressed.” She smirked wider at the memory. “Coach said I’m in. Like, officially. I’m on the team.”
Joel’s smile widened, pride etched into the lines around his eyes. “That’s my girl. Knew you’d do fine.” He reached down, ruffling her damp hair, and Ellie swatted his hand away with a groan.
“Joel! Seriously. I’m soaked.”
“I can tell,” he chuckled, ignoring her dramatic sigh as she tried to flatten her hair. “Just wanted to say you did great for someone who was having the jitters this mornin’.”
Ellie shot him a playful glare. “Shut up.”
She grabbed her duffel and tossed it into the back of the truck before climbing in.
The drive home was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the silence. Ellie rested her head against the window, watching the mountains fade into shadow. She thought about Dina for a second—her laugh, the way her friends had teased her, the sharp edge in her eyes when Ellie slipped past her on the field.
Joel broke the silence. “So, what’s the team like? Any friends yet?”
Ellie shrugged, staring at the trees blurring past. “They’re… fine. A little nosy. But… there’s this one girl. Dina. She’s captain.” She paused, then muttered, “She’s… good. Really good.”
Joel chuckled softly. “Good for you, gettin’ to play with folks who challenge ya.” He glanced at her, a knowing glint in his eye. “Guess you’ll be learnin’ a thing or two.”
Ellie felt a blush creep up her neck, though she tried to hide it by looking out the window again. “Whatever, Joel. I can hold my own.” But the defensive tone in her voice was a little too sharp. She picked at a loose thread on her jeans. “She kinda reminds me of… well, she’s just… sharp, you know? Quick-witted.”
A comfortable silence fell, broken only by the rumble of the truck’s engine and the distant cry of a coyote. Joel didn’t press further, just let the quiet hang in the air, a space where Ellie could think and feel without needing to explain.
Finally, Ellie let out a long sigh, a mix of exhaustion and something lighter. “It’s good to be back on the field, though. Really good.” She leaned her head back against the seat, a small, genuine smile playing on her lips. “Felt like… me again.”
Joel reached over, his calloused hand briefly covering hers on her knee, a silent squeeze of affirmation. “Yeah, kiddo. I know.” He pulled his hand back to the steering wheel.
As they pulled into the gravel driveway of their modest house on the edge of town, Joel slowed the truck.
“Oh—almost forgot,” he said, turning to her. “Tommy and Maria are comin’ over for dinner tonight.”
Ellie blinked. “What? Why?”
Joel shrugged, turning off the engine. “Just ‘cause. Haven’t seen ‘em in a bit. Figured it’d be a good night to celebrate you makin’ the team, too.”
Ellie groaned, though a faint smile played on her lips. “You could’ve told me! Now I gotta be… social.” She hated being put on the spot, even by her closest family.
He gave her a small, knowing smile. “Don’t worry, I already told Maria you’d probably be too tired to do much talkin’.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, but the fight had gone out of her. “Too tired is an understatement, Joel. I swear, I’m gonna fall asleep standing up.” She pushed open her door and swung her legs out, wincing as her stiff muscles protested. “Seriously, all I want to do is change into my pajamas and get in bed.”
“You can do that after dinner,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Besides, Tommy was askin’ about you. He’ll be happy to hear the good news from you directly.”
She sighed, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite her exhaustion. She knew Joel was right; Tommy and Maria were family, and seeing them was always nice, even if it meant delaying her much-anticipated crash.
“Fine,” she grumbled.
Joel chuckled, stepping out of the truck himself. “Good. Now go get cleaned up. Smell like a locker room.”
Ellie threw him a final, exasperated look over her shoulder. “You’re one to talk, old man. You smell like motor oil and desperation.”