She didn’t even tell him yes. She told him “sure,” which means she probably just felt bad for him. That painful feeling hits my chest again as I relive the moment in my mind. Zach is taking me to his childhood bedroom, where a photo album is spread out on the bed and I can barely pay attention to it all because I’m still thinking of her. Of Tom. Of the dinner date they’re going on tonight.
God, I hope she changes her mind and doesn’t go.
“Nice hair, bro.”
Zach holds up a glossy photo from the Ponca races in 2007, when I was ten years old. It’s the 8 x 10 collectors photo they sold at the races for twenty bucks. It’s the kind I never bought for myself because I didn’t care and I didn’t have parents who obsessed over me who would buy this kind of souvenir. Clearly Zach’s mom bought them.
There we are, the winners of the 85 Mod 11 and under class, standing on the podium proudly showing off our trophies. I was in first place, Zach was in second, and a kid named Blake Weston was in third. I never saw Blake after that race, and I wonder what happened to him.
I stare at the picture for a moment. I’m ten years old, with bleached hair that was stark white because the girl at the Sally’s Hair Supply in my neighborhood told me I’d look cool with bleached hair. I remember this race pretty well. My granddad couldn’t drive us all the way to Oklahoma for the Ponca city race, but he’d let me ride with my friend Jackson, whose parents felt sorry for me. I was pretty much on my own even back then. I remember riding my bike to the starting line of that race, sitting there alone while all the other kids had parents hanging out with them and wishing them luck. I didn’t need to be told good luck. I made my own luck.
“That’s crazy,” I say, looking up from the picture. Zach’s grinning because he thinks it’s cool—and itiscool—but it’s just drudged up some weird memories for me. For as long as I can remember I’ve told myself I didn’t need anyone. I wasn’t sentimental. I wasn’t some crybaby who needed a mom to comfort him. I could do everything alone, and I did. But for the first time in my life, I can’t stop thinking about doing things with Avery. What if she was waiting for me at the starting line the way the guys’ girlfriends wait for them? What if she hugged me after the races like all the other guys with girlfriends? Sure I’m fine on my own. I always have been. But would life be a little better if someone was there for me?
I take a deep breath and force a smile. “We should send this to Marcus. I bet Team Loco would love to show off how two of its teammates were racing together since we were kids.”
“Totally,” Zach says. He takes the photo out of the clear plastic of the photo album. “Hey man, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
His brow wrinkles. “You look weird.”
I shrug it off. “Just nostalgic.”
He nods, so my answer must have been good enough for him. “I’m gonna go scan this photo and email it to Marcus.”
When I head back into the living room, everyone seems to be having a good time. Keanna is here, and she must have flown in today because I’m pretty sure she wasn’t here last night. It’s hard to tell with the girlfriends because they’re always coming and going, joining Zach, Jett, and Aiden whenever they have time in their schedules. As always, I find myself searching for Avery in the group, and I find her curled up in the corner of the couch, still snuggling with that fleece blanket.
All the words I wish I could tell her build up in my heart and I know I can’t say a word of them until we’re alone again.
Zach’s mom walks into the room, holding a small laptop. “Okay guys, the pizza is ordered. It’ll be here in twenty minutes according to the little pizza tracker thingy.”
“Avery doesn’t need any pizza,” Bree says in this flirty way that annoys me.
“Oh no,” Zach’s mom says. “Can you eat pizza? I should have asked before ordering it.”
Avery shakes her head. “I love pizza.”
“She has adate,” Bree says, playfully elbowing her.
Zach’s mom and the girls are now all interested in hearing about it. Avery looks embarrassed as she explains that Tom asked her out to dinner. Zach walks over and tells her that Tom is “such a good guy.”Please. He’s just some pathetic loser. I bet he can’t ride a dirt bike to save his life.
I guess I should have known that she would still go on this stupid date. Asking her not to go doesn’t stop her. I put my earbuds in, take a seat at the kitchen table, and crank up the music as loud as it’ll go.
Tomorrow morning we’re flying to Vegas for the fifth and final training camp. This one will suck because we’re also doing a ton of PR and Team Loco marketing crap. I’ve seen some of the plans in the emails Marcus sends us, and I know that at least one of the photoshoots involves wearing a Santa hat while sitting on our dirt bikes. I think the rest of the guys are also dreading tomorrow’s flight to Vegas because we’ll be busy as hell for twenty-four hours. Then we’ll be heading home and this nightmare will finally be over.
After eating a ton of pizza at Zach’s house, we all head to a place called Blue’s Bar. Well, not all of us. A certain girl with dark hair and a beautiful smile has escaped the group for the night. I didn’t leave the kitchen when Tom showed up to take Avery out to dinner. I couldn’t even look her way as she left. I know it’s probably nothing. Even if she does like him and wants to date him, what kind of relationship would that be? She lives in Texas and he lives in Tennessee.
That doesn’t stop me from hating every second of it, though.
Blue’s is this rinky-dink small town hang out that smells like smoke and sawdust. There’s a country band playing cover songs in the corner, and more than a few drunk women in their fifties who stare us down like we’re a slab of steak.
We grab a pool table and play a few games, but my heart’s not in it. I keep thinking about Avery’s date and wondering how it’s going. As much as I want to hate Tom, I know I shouldn’t. He’s a nice guy and one of Zach’s best friends. He’s probably giving Avery a much better date than I ever could. I wouldn’t even know where to start.
An hour goes by, and then another. My pool skills get worse with each minute that I’m thinking of Avery and her date. I can’t concentrate. I don’t bother joining the conversation with my teammates, but no one seems to care. They’re used to me keeping to myself. A few women try to hit on me, but I do what I always do when I want to be left alone, and it does a great job of scaring them away. I’m not here to meet women. I don’t care for one night stands. I don’t care for relationships. I am just fine on my own.
It’s just after nine o’clock when Avery walks into the bar. She’s all smiles as she hugs Keanna and Bree, despite the fact that she’s alone. I scan the crowd but I don’t see Tom. My heart races. If she’s alone then her date didn’t go well. Maybe I haven’t completely lost her yet.
Chapter 14
