The gray body had been partially disassembled.
Door removed.
Fender prepared.
Several trim pieces labeled.
Technician Luis Herrera spoke to the group.
“Anybody know why exotic-car paint damage gets expensive?”
A boy said:
“Because rich people?”
Everyone laughed.
Luis smiled.
“Partly because customers care.”
Then he explained.
Specialized paint.
Layer consistency.
Panel blending.
Disassembly.
No overspray.
Material costs.
Labor.
Documentation.
Tyler stared.
Marcus watched from behind.
Luis had no idea Tyler caused the damage.
Or maybe he did and had enough professionalism not to mention it.
He pointed toward the long repaired area.
“One scratch can involve multiple panels.”
Tyler raised his hand.
“Could you just touch it up?”
Luis shook his head.
“Not if the goal is correct restoration.”
Tyler nodded.
His face tightened.
Later, during lunch, he approached Marcus.
“Can we talk?”
Marcus looked toward the program director.
She nodded.
They stepped near the loading area.
Tyler's hands stayed in his pockets.
“I didn't know.”
Marcus said nothing.
“That it would be like that.”
“All those parts.”
“The work.”
Marcus leaned against a railing.
“Most damage looks smaller from outside.”
Tyler nodded.
“I thought it was paint.”
“It was paint.”
“And labor.”
“And value.”
“And trust.”
Tyler looked toward him.
“What do you mean trust?”
Marcus nodded toward the restoration bay.
“The owner gave me his car.”
“That's more important than the car.”
“If I return it damaged because somebody came onto my property and I didn't document properly, my client doesn't care that I'm personally sorry.”
“He trusted my company.”
Tyler looked down.
“I didn't think about that.”
“No.”
Marcus spoke without cruelty.
“You weren't thinking about very much.”
Tyler accepted it.
“Can I ask something?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you yell at me?”
Marcus almost laughed.
“I wanted to.”
“Why didn't you?”
Marcus thought of his father.
Then answered:
“Because if I had chased you down the driveway screaming while you held a knife, everybody's memory would become about my reaction instead of your action.”
Tyler looked uncomfortable.
Marcus continued:
“And because you're sixteen.”
“So?”
“So adults are supposed to be better at stopping escalation.”
“Even when teenagers aren't.”
Tyler nodded.
“My mom says you made her lose the HOA.”
Marcus's expression changed.
“What do you think?”
Tyler looked toward the ground.
“I think she made herself lose it.”
Marcus said nothing.
Tyler continued:
“She doesn't talk to me much now.”
“I'm sorry.”
Tyler looked surprised.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“You can be angry at what someone did and still not enjoy seeing their family hurt.”
Tyler swallowed.
“I don't know how to fix it.”
“Not my area.”
“I thought you fix expensive things.”
Marcus smiled.
“Cars.”
“Companies.”
“Sometimes.”
“Families?”
“No warranty.”
Tyler laughed.
Small.
Real.
Marcus continued: