Jessi

 

When I got home on Wednesday night, after another night of drinks with Gary and some of the other students, Dad met me at the door, looking a bit angry. “I've already closed up the shop for the night,” he told me.

 

I frowned. “But, Dad, you know that I planned on getting some work done in there tonight,” I told him. “I was going to lay out all those parts that you needed for Bryce's bike tomorrow, so that you could get right to work on it when you went in there. And then I was going to-”

 

“No, I didn't know you were going to get some work done in there tonight,” Dad interrupted. “I knew that you were supposed to get some work done in there. But it's ten o'clock at night right now, and I was beginning to wonder if you were even going to come home tonight, or if you were maybe going to stay over at a friend's place in the city. I know your class schedule; you should have been home hours ago.”

 

“Relax,” I said. “I had some studying that I needed to do, so I went over to the library after my classes. And then I was working on this project for my mechanics class. Plus, I just went for some drinks with Gary Ellsmith and a few other students from the department. They've been really great, helping me out with all sorts of design issues and things like that. I'm really starting to feel like I belong there now.”

 

“Jessi, you know what our work schedule is like at the moment,” Dad argued. “I understand that you need to work on your school projects, and I've been generous enough to give you plenty of time for that. But in the evenings, you need to come back here and do your work. That's what we agreed upon.”

 

“We agreed that I would study during the week and then work for the shop on weekends,” I said, shaking my head. “We never agreed that I would have to give up all of my evenings as well.”

 

“Stop being so childish, Jessi,” Dad snapped. “I'm busting my ass trying to come up with tuition money for you for the fall; I expect you to pull your weight around the shop as well. There's no reason for you to be out socializing when-”

 

“I'm networking, Dad,” I interrupted. “Gary Ellsmith is a big name in the design community, and I'm lucky enough to have him as a professor and a mentor. He's really been helping me a lot this semester, and he says he'll continue to mentor me for as long as I'm in the program. And he's got connections in the industry. He's already talking to this guy in Cleveland about getting me a two-week internship there this coming fall. It's with a big company, and-”

 

“And Greyhound Custom Motorcycles isn't good enough for you anymore, now that you're some city-slick kid,” Dad said bitterly.

 

“Of course that's not true,” I said. “You know that I'd love to take over the business one day. It would be an honor. But at the same time, as Gary says, it will benefit me to learn different design styles and to see how different shops run. I don't really have any experience with how bigger companies run, and it would be interesting to learn the ropes on some of the different types of machinery that they have. I-”

 

“Why is Gary so keen on giving you all this personal attention anyway?” Dad asked. “I'm assuming he doesn't do this for every freshman that he teaches, so why are you so special?”

 

I scowled at him. “Because, Dad. Unlike you, Gary is actually willing to see my potential. He thinks I'm really talented, and so do my other professors. If this were his shop, he said he would have had me designing and building custom bikes a long time ago. But that's because he actually knows what a woman could do in this business. He isn't so concerned about his masculinity that he wouldn't even give me a chance.”

 

Dad's face went through a complicated set of expressions. “Don't talk to me that way,” he said. “You're getting a bit too big for your britches if you aren't remembering that I am your father and you still live under my roof. You will speak to me with respect.”

 

“Yeah, because you show so much respect to me,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Dad, you're hardly even willing to look at my designs, and some of them are really good. Rip says there's one that he thinks would be perfect for J.T. even, and I know you still haven't come up with something that J.T. would like. Rather than wasting more time on a bunch of different designs, why don't we at least try to sell mine to him? We need to get started building it or else we'll never finish it.”

 

“Absolutely not,” Dad said firmly. “I refuse to waste J.T.'s time with your childish or impossible designs. You don't have a head for how the mechanics of things work, Jessi. It's one thing to draw a bike that looks cool, but it's another thing to design a bike that could actually work.”

 

“I don't have a head for the mechanics?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Funny to hear that, since I'm currently acing my mechanics class.” I shook my head. “You refuse to see that I could actually be good in this business, but I really could. Gary sees that, and that's why he's helping me out. It's as simple as that.”

 

“Sounds like he's probably interested in something else,” Dad said darkly, and I practically blew up.

 

“Well, maybe he is, Dad,” I snapped. “Maybe he's just a perv and he really wants to get into my pants, so that's why we talk about motorcycles and only motorcycles all the time that I spend with him. But you know what? Even if that was all that he was interested in, isn't that something that I can deal with on my own? I'm not a little kid anymore, Dad. I don't know why it's so difficult for you to see that I've grown up, but I'm twenty-two years old, and I think I can handle myself well enough on my own.”

 

“You're going to have a curfew,” Dad told me. “Eight o'clock. Every night. I want you back to the house. You can put an hour of work in at the shop then, and I'll call that good. If you have big projects due, I might let you skip the hour in the shop, but I still want you home by eight.”

 

“Dad, what part of 'I'm not a little kid' are you not getting?” I growled. “I don't need a curfew. I'm busting my ass to get the best grades that I can at school, and if I want to get drinks and unwind a little-”

 

“Then you had better find your own place to live and your own way to pay for tuition,” Dad said grimly. “I'm sorry, but that's the way it's going to be. If you want to live under my roof, eat my food, and have me help you out with tuition, that's the way it's going to be. In the house by eight o'clock.”

 

“That's not fair!” I said, but there wasn't really anything that I could do about it. There was no way I could afford to live on my own, and I didn't want to lose the privilege of working in his shop either.

 

“And one more thing,” Dad said, narrowing his eyes at me. “You absolutely, under no circumstances, will be going away to some internship in Cleveland this fall. You have responsibilities here, Jessi, and you can't just go haring off for weeks at a time on a whim. I thought I'd raised you better than that.”

 

I gaped, then I narrowed my eyes at him. “Fine,” I told him frostily. “But I'm going to give my design to Rip and have him show it to J.T. Because, as I said, we can't lose any more time on that project.” With that, I stormed past him into the house and went up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. Sure, it was a bit juvenile of me, but if he was going to treat me like a kid, I could act as sulky as I wanted.