Once Ale disappeared, Dawson cleared his throat. “So, how did it go?”
I sat beside Grandma. She’d miss me, and I’d miss her—and Spain—but chasing my dream was in my blood. I had to trust she’d understand.
“It went well,” I said. “Forward Racing wants me. Dad’s first team.”
Javi’s eyes widened. Dawson nodded. Grandma slipped a slender arm around my waist. “They’re smart people,” she whispered, kissing my cheek. “Is that whatyouwant, mi niño?”
The wind feathered over my face, carrying the scent of her chrysanthemums. My chest tightened, but I swept my gaze across the courtyard I knew by heart—the terra-cotta pots, the fountain in the middle.This was home. Russell Land never would be. But I had to keep my eyes on the prize.
“Sí,” I said.
Dawson reached across the table and patted my hand. “Then we’re happy for you. Guess you and I are moving back.”
I sighed. “We are.”
***
After everyone left and Grandma went to bed, Javi and I sat on the living room couch. Sport Union Madrid—his dream team—played on TV. Thanks to him, his current team had just been promoted to the First Division. Hopefully that had put him on their radar.
“Salud.” He clinked his beer against mine. “To your new team.”
“Thanks.” I took a swig, but he didn’t move.
“Ash.” Javi’s assessing gaze fixed on my face, and I braced for what was coming.
“Yeah?”
“Are you sure you want to race in the States?”
I rolled the bottle between my palms. “I’m sure. Forward Racing was Dad’s first team. He’d be proud.”
Javi lifted and dropped his shoulders. “I knew him, remember? He’d be proud no matter what you do. Mamá always says ignoring your gut never leads anywhere good. What does your gut tell you?”
I set the beer on the floor and dragged my hands over my face, groaning. “I’m twenty, tío. I’ve been waiting forever for a team to pick me. What if nobody else wants me anytime soon?” Dad’s death—right when I was starting to break into professional racing—and the grief that followed derailed everything. I’d lost time. Missed chances.
“What did Ale say?” Javi asked.
“Ale’s an optimist.”
“He’s great at his job. You said so yourself.”
My heart picked up. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, staring at the seam. Facing Javi was hard. We’d been friends since we were kids, and he always saw through my bullshit.
“I don’t want to waste another six months on something that might not happen. RevGlobe Grand Prix is . . .”
“Like Sport Union Madrid for me. Should I settle for my current team?”
“Fuck, no.” I groaned. “It’s only a matter of time until they notice you.”
“I could say the same about you.” He sighed, long and heavy. “Sorry. I don’t mean to bug you. Forward Racing’s offer is great, and I’m happy for you. I just want to make sure it’s the kind of great you want. You didn’t last two weeks living with your mother’s boyfriend, and now he’ll be something like your boss.”
I folded my arms. “Grandma thinks I should let my mother fix things.”
Javi snorted. “Did she ever try?”
“Not really. But Dad’s been gone five years. I guess I can’t stay mad at her forever.”
“No.” He glanced at the TV and groaned. The score in the corner read two to zero—bad for a team that used to win everything. “See that?” He nodded at the screen. “They would’ve won if I were there.”
