She tries to fix it up. Doesn’t know much about cars. She’s watched Billy do maintenance on the camaro countless times. She’s even helped him a couple of those times.
But standing in the driveway with Billy’s toolbox open at her feet and the camaro broken and silent in front of her, it all seems impossible, like it’s too much. She’s at a loss. Has no idea where to start.
Neil doesn’t offer to help. He doesn’t look at the camaro. He hasn’t said Billy’s name once. He hasn’t talked about Billy at all. He drinks a lot. He watches reruns of baseball games till two in the morning.
Mom kisses Max’s head. She’s had tears in her eyes for a while now, it’s gotten worse since Billy. She tells Max, you’re doing a good thing for your brother.
She doesn’t say Billy’s name either.
Max goes to the library. Checks out books on car repair. Most of it’s out of her league, a bunch of gibberish she can’t understand with confusing diagrams, at least that’s what she thinks at first. She sits in the front seat of the camaro and studies during the morning, skin sticking to the upholstery that’s still got his blood on it and at night she sits in Billy’s room on his bed.
His room still smells like him. She’d always thought he’d smelled bad. Stunk like every boy does, but worse because he was Billy and everything is automatically worse because it’s Billy.
He never let her in here before. She’d sneak in sometimes just because.
She pokes around his drawers and his closet. Under his bed. Trying to find something. She isn’t sure just what that something is though.
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