Because she liked understanding how things fit together.
She had drawn the float bowl first.
Then the jets.
Then a rough cutaway showing where fuel moved through the body.
Every few minutes she looked up, studied the actual part on the bench, then corrected something in her sketch.
Lucas Mercer noticed.
Lucas noticed nearly everything involving Nora.
He had worked as an emergency medical technician before joining the club full-time and still handled first aid whenever someone cut a hand, burned an arm, or made the predictable mistake of believing a hot exhaust pipe had cooled faster than physics allowed.
He walked past the booth carrying a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other.
“You planning to steal Walsh’s job?”
Nora looked up.
“No.”
“Good. He’d cry.”
From the workbench, Walsh raised one finger without turning around.
“I heard that.”
Nora almost smiled.
Lucas stopped beside the booth.
“You finish your homework?”
“Mostly.”
“That means no.”
“It means I finished everything except the history reading.”
“What chapter?”
“Industrialization.”
Lucas gestured around the garage.
“Look around. Industrialization.”
“That is not how school works.”
“Should be.”
Nora looked back at the sketchbook.
Lucas studied her for another second.