"You sure you know what you’re doing?" Jake asked, grinning. He tossed the wrench, and I caught it.
"Of course, I know," I said, even though I was mostly faking it. I tightened a bolt, crossing my fingers. This truck was important. It belonged to Mrs. Jenkins, and she relied on it to get to her farm. And Mrs. Jenkins… well, she was special.
It started a few months ago. I’d always known Mrs. Jenkins, of course. Everyone in town did. She ran the local farmers market, and her stall was like the heart of our little community. But then, something shifted. I started noticing things. The way her smile crinkled the corners of her eyes, how she always had a kind word for everyone, even old Mr. Henderson who always grumbled about the price of tomatoes. I started finding excuses to go to the market, even when I didn’t need anything. “Mrs. Jenkins, you got any fresh corn today?” Even when I knew she didn’t. Just to see her face.
One time, my buddy, Chris, came over. He saw me heading to the market for the third time that day. “Dude, what’s up with you?” he asked, laughing. “You got a thing for Mrs. Jenkins or something?”
I denied it, of course. Me? Have a thing for Mrs. Jenkins? She was… well, she was Mrs. Jenkins! Everyone’s favorite market lady. But Chris’s words stuck in my head. I started paying more attention to how I felt. The way my heart did a little flutter when she laughed, how I always wanted to be near her. It wasn't just respect or neighborly kindness. It was… something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
The truck sputtered and died. “Aw, man!” I exclaimed, frustrated.
Jake chuckled. “Maybe you should just call a mechanic.”
“No way, I can fix it,” I said stubbornly. I knew Mrs. Jenkins needed this truck. Her livelihood depended on it. And I… I wanted to be the one to fix it for her.
I tinkered with the engine until it finally roared back to life. Mrs. Jenkins came out of her house, her face lighting up. “Oh, thank you, so much! You’re a lifesaver!” She gave me this smile, the one that made my stomach do a little flip.
“No problem, Mrs. Jenkins,” I mumbled, my face feeling hot. I wanted to say more, to tell her… something. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, I just smiled back, feeling this… warmth spread through me.