The shirt caught on something and tore even more-it was definitely garbage now. I pulled it free and tossed it away. Then I stepped back to admire this huge machine. With the steam gone now, I could see it clearly. Belts and hoses and wires ran everywhere, filthy and hot.
But as I stared at the engine, I noticed something unusual. The belts. In a car engine, you can't see all of them because they're always tucked into the hood. But here on the bus, I could see every belt as it wound back and forth. And one of them was sagging. Where it should have run in a rigidly straight line, I noticed a tiny amount of curvature.
"Look at this. . ." I reached in to wiggle the slack belt. "Here's the problem."
Buck nodded. "Loose fan belt." He tugged on the belt, then his eyes narrowed on me. "Nice work. You do know engines. You're really good."
Ooh, a compliment! I didn't think he was capable of that. "You know, that's the nicest thing you've said to me." I gave him a smirk.
"Fuck that!" He propped his fists on his hips. "I've been nice to you. I got the audience to like you."
"Okay, that was nice. But you've been withdrawn and testy all week." It started to spill out of me now. Six days of angry Buck, brooding, picking fights, getting drunk, and hiding in his cubicle. It was push-back time, so I let him have it.
"I know you didn't want me to be on tour with the band, but I'm here. So why couldn't you just get over it?" I may have yelled that last part.
I could not figure out Buck. Did he like me or did he hate me? I wanted to grab him and shake him and demand that he explain himself, because whatever was going on inside his head was making me feel bad. I'd be leaving the tour soon, so it was long past time to figure this out.
But what could I do that would pierce Buck's walls and show him how I felt? The answer came instantly. With a satisfying laugh, I wiped my greasy hand on his too-perfect chest, leaving a shiny black streak. Hah! Take that!
"Oh, nice." Buck looked down with a grin. Then he reached his own dirty hand out and wiped a line of grime across my cheek. I guess I should have expected something like that.
"You bastard." I lunged for his grinning face to give him another swipe, but he caught my wrists. His smug smile dared me to escape, so I struggled against his grip with my greasy fingers wiggling at him. Of course, he held me easily, which made him smile even more. Damn him! We remained in this standoff for a long time, staring hard at each other.