Tia

 

I could have done without the whole area knowing about me getting stuck in a storm drain. I really could. Thanks, world. I have no fiancé. I already have no job. And to cap it all, now I’m a laughing stock.

When I first spotted the video in my Facebook feed, Cassie reassured me everything would be okay, that hardly anyone would have seen it, but it was just my luck that the story hit social media on a slow news day and reporters picked it up.

“What did your dad say?” Cassie asks when she comes over to sympathize, and we get coffee to take up to my room.

“He already knew about it from the guys at the station. They have to report every incident. But I managed to tell him it was me before the news got out.”

“That was good.” Cassie settles herself down on the bed with her coffee.

“He gave me a lecture about being more careful. And he ranted on for a while because he says the emergency services resources are stretched thin enough already. You know, his hard parent routine. Then he forgot that and came over all protective again, blamed the man who barged into us, and brought me my dinner on a tray on the couch.”

“Sounds just like your dad. Don’t worry. The whole thing will blow over, and it will be funny in years to come. You’ll see.”

“I know, but right now, it sucks. I mean, look…” It’s not as if Cassie hasn’t seen the stupid YouTube video already but I can’t stop playing it. I put my coffee down on the desk under the window and set the dreaded video going again on my laptop where we can see it from the bed.

“Oh god, fifty-seven thousand views. And only nineteen thousand of them me.” For some reason I get the giggles this time. “Why the hell did I go down a storm drain just to get Simon’s stupid ring?”

“At least you get to watch that fireman again. Logan, wasn’t it? Call it compensation for all this.”

“I’m not sure it’s quite worth that. But I’m not so worked up about the whole thing that I can’t enjoy watching him pull me out. Look at those muscles. The other one, Paul, is not bad either, but I didn’t like him half as much. They were both nice guys though, getting me out like that, getting my ring back.”

“Yes, they were. But who cares about nice when all we’re doing is looking. You’re right about Logan, though. Great body. You can tell that even in full gear. Strong.” Cassie sighs. “But he’s a lot older than us.”

“I wouldn’t say a lot older. In his thirties, maybe late thirties at the most.”

“Sounds like older to me. I bet he’s married, anyway.”

“No ring. But maybe he doesn’t wear one on duty.”

“You noticed his empty finger?”

“So shoot me. I had rings on my mind, remember.”

“Why don’t you ask your dad? Or pay him a visit at the station? See if Logan’s around.”

“Yeah, like I’m going to do that. You said it. You know what dad’s like. Anyway, I’m hibernating.” I’m terrified there will be more reporters hiding at the end of our street, cameras and microphones ready to catch me out with a dumb quote. I shift about uncomfortably on the bed. I’m still sore from my ordeal and my skin has some interesting purple and yellow splotches. Very attractive. I can’t be allowed out in public yet.

“You’ll have to go out sometime.” Cassie clicks over to a related video showing calendar pictures of hot Australian firemen.

But I’m more interested in Logan, with his reassuring voice and strong hands, helping to pull me free. I remember the manly scent of him when I hugged him, and his dark eyes full of merriment. I like to imagine they were full of promise, too. But I keep that to myself.

*

Simon gets his ring back by FedEx. Not even dented.

My bruises heal.

I apply for graduate level graphic design jobs and hear nothing. The old story—no job without experience. No experience without a job. Or maybe they’ve all seen the video. Stupid girls need not apply.

More than once I think about going to see Dad at the station to see if Logan is around, but I’m sure the guys have all seen that YouTube video, and I can’t bear the ribbing I’ll get. Dad would smell a rat, too. I haven’t wanted to go to the station since I was nine years old and that was to get a ride in a fire truck.

But when I moan about the lack of response from yet another advertising company to my application for an entry-level position, he suggests there’s plenty I could do at the station if I really want to get experience.

“I won’t be able to pay you, but it will be something to put on your resume,” he says.

I know I should just get over myself. It’s been weeks since the drain incident. I need to do something. Cassie has just started a job in a bank, and working as an unpaid intern will be better than sitting around at home.

I don’t know if Dad starts to regret his offer, but when he’s taking me to work the following week, he says, “Be careful there. Firefighters can be wild when they get together. I’ll have a word with them, but still…”

“Please don’t do that. I’ll never live it down. I can cope with a few firemen having a joke. How bad can it be?” I’m trying to convince myself as well as him.

“Just let me know if they annoy you.”

The only way they are going to affect me is if I let them. But Logan… it might be different with him. I’ve seen quite a few of the crew when they visited our house for one reason or another, but none of them has ever invaded my dreams like him.

Dad has a whole list of things he wants me to do. The fire station website looks like it was made in 1997 and the social media accounts are no better. I’ll enjoy taking them into the twenty-first century. I just wish I was getting paid for it.

I’m mainly stuck in an empty office next to Dad’s, so I don’t see the firemen all that much. At first, Dad hovers around me like a mother hen. I still get all the comments asking me if I’ve fallen down any holes in the road lately, but the teasing is mild, probably because they know who Dad is.

I see Logan now and again, and every freakin’ time my heart skips a beat like I’m a teenager catching a glimpse of her crush in the lunch line at school.

What would I do with Logan, anyway? Another guy, especially one who’s older and probably inclined to tell me what to do and control me like Simon did before he cheated on me, or who tries to protect me like Dad, is the last thing I need.

But when Logan knocks on my door and comes into my office a few days after I start, my mind goes blank of all that.

“All recovered now?” he asks.

“Yes.” Our eyes meet and it feels like there’s a moment of connection while neither of us says anything.

“Frank not around?”

“He has a meeting at the high school.”

“Right then. I’ll see him later. Glad you’re feeling better. Your dad asked me to help you out if you need anything from the guys for the website. So if there’s anything…”

Right.” Why can’t I string more than two words together? My mouth is like the Gobi desert.