Marcus is the manager of this merry band of dudes that are both my teammates and best friends. He’s in his forties, with brown hair that he still gets highlighted for whatever reason—I think he still thinks he’s in the 2000’s and it’s cool to look like that guy from Smashmouth. It doesn’t just stop at the hair, though. Marcus wears skinny jeans and Odd Future shirts that he often pairs with his old Nikes, and I just don’t know what the guy is thinking when he gets dressed every morning. It’s like he’s trying to be cool so he gets his clothing at skate shops in the mall, but he’s still old as hell and he can’t hide that no matter what.
Regardless, he’s our leader. We love him because he swooped in, signed us to Team Loco and changed our lives.
That’s why we put up with these dumbass conference calls. I spend forty weeks a year with these guys, but in the offseason Marcus insists on weekly conference calls to keep us up to date.
“Hey,” Zach says as he comes on the line. “Who’s all here?”
“We’re missing golden boy,” Jett says.
“I thoughtyouwere the golden boy,” Zach says, sounding confused. I can’t say I blame him. Jettisthe golden boy.
“Not anymore,” Jett says with a laugh. “Aiden is our resident heartthrob now.”
Now that Aiden recently got attached to a girl he met in Louisiana, he’s become about fifty times more popular with our fans. They all love him even more because he’s got a sensitive side. Gross.
Zach laughs. “Aiden is definitely the golden boy now.”
“Hey, I heard that,” Aiden says.
“Good, we’re all here,” Marcus says. “Let’s get to business.”
“Just a second, boss,” Aiden says. “I’d like it to be known that I am the goldenman, not the goldenboy.”
We all laugh. I finish my bowl of cereal and set it down on the coffee table, then pick up my phone. My tiny studio apartment makes everyone sound like they’re right here in the room with me. Luckily they aren’t, because this 400 square foot place of mine doesn’t have nearly enough room for five people.
“How’s the wrist?” Marcus asks.
“Good as new,” Aiden replies.
“Good stuff. So listen, guys. I have some exciting news.”
I crinkle my brow. From past experience, I know that what Marcus considers “exciting news” is very rarely actually exciting. In my first year as a Team Loco motocross racer, the team got sent on an all-expenses paid vacation to Hawaii to celebrate our series win. That was the only exciting news Marcus has ever had.
Pretty much everything since then has been some obligation we have to fulfill thanks to our contracts. TV interviews, magazine photoshoots—all of that awful stuff. I just want to ride. I just want to be on the bike, tires in the dirt, wind in my face. But unfortunately, the only way you can get paid to ride dirt bikes is to agree to the rest of the crap that comes with it.
Marcus’ raspy voice fills my small living room. “Since there are no races in the month of December, I’ve been in meetings with the execs and we’ve been looking for ways to keep you in the public’s eye.”
I roll my eyes. What kind of fresh hell is this going to be?
Marcus continues, “As you know, our rival team, Freeze Frame, just got all that bad PR with their parties getting busted for drugs, and the Cycle X team has two sexual assault allegations, not to mention Team Cyclone and how they can’t hire a racer who isn’t on steroids to save their lives…”
He snorts and I can tell he’s taking great pleasure in knowing that the team he manages is currently the best in all of professional motocross. “Anyway, we want to do something to hype you guys up more. Team Loco is being considered the family-friendly, wholesome team.”
Someone makes a gagging sound—probably Zach. It echoes exactly what I’m thinking.
“Oh hush,” Marcus says. “This is a good thing. In today’s world of shitty celebrities, it’s a good thing to be the good guys. That’s why we’re hosting an event.”
I groan quietly to myself. Here I thought I’d get to spend the month at home, alone with my surfboard and television.
“I can’t miss Christmas,” Jett says. “I’ve got plans with my girl.”
“Same,” Zach says, or maybe it’s Aiden.
“Yeah, I’m not missing the holidays,” Aiden says. This time I know it’s his voice. “I’ve missed too many of them lately.”
“Calm down,” Marcus says, his voice taking on an annoyed tone that I imagine someone with parents would understand all too well. Having been raised by a nearly deaf grandfather, I was never disciplined. Luckily, I didn’t need it.
“Your Christmas is safe,” Marcus says. “And New Year’s, for that matter. But the four of you are my shining examples of wholesome celebrities for the next three weeks.”
