“Yeah. We’ve got this,” he says, but there’s an uncertainty in his voice that catches me off guard.
We both know it’s going to take more than fixing engines to get us where we want to go. But neither of us is ready to say what’s really on our minds. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
As the winter months drag on, we keep going. Friends. It’s the only safe place for us right now. But every laugh, every accidental touch, every lingering look... It’s all getting harder to ignore.
And I can feel it. The day will come when we won’t be able to hide from what we really want. But for now, we keep pretending.
We keep racing.
The sound of the freezing wind scraping against the garage windows is enough to make me shiver, but it’s the emptinessinside that makes me want to leave even more. Xavier’s been distant lately, more than usual, and it’s not the work on the cars keeping him busy. It’s like there’s a quiet weight hanging between us.
I first noticed it when he started heading out a little more often. We used to grab a bite after working on the cars, talk about the race season, or bullshit about whatever random thought popped into our heads. But lately, he’d been leaving after our sessions with barely a word, just a quick, “I’ll catch you later,” and off he’d go.
At first, I told myself it was nothing. He’s probably dealing with stuff. School, racing, life. Things were starting to feel like they were building toward something bigger. But then it happened. He mentioned it one afternoon, as if it weren’t a big deal.
“I’m gonna meet up with some people tonight,” he says, wiping his hands on a rag. “Get my mind off things, you know?”
I want to ask what exactly he means by that, but I don’t. My stomach twists, and a rush of jealousy hits me out of nowhere. But what do I have to be jealous of? We’re friends. Nothing more. Right?
“Alright, have fun,” I say, trying to sound casual.
He offers me a quick smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I watch him walk out, my mind spinning in circles. “Some people.” I hate how uncomfortable I feel with him being out. He isn’t my boyfriend. He doesn’t owe me an explanation. Still, it doesn’t sit right.
That night, I try to focus on my schoolwork. Graduation is looming, and I feel the pressure. I need to finish strong, and the thought of stepping into the real world, away from the comfort of racing and the garage, is both thrilling and terrifying. But everytime I look up from my laptop, my thoughts drift back to Xavier. Where is he? Who is he with?
The next time he comes over, the tension between us is palpable. He doesn’t mention the “dates” again, but I can tell something has changed in him. He’s quieter, more withdrawn. And I? I can’t shake the nagging feeling that whatever is happening between us is slipping away.
A couple of days later, Xavier shows up at the garage, looking different. He has a lightness in his step, and his eyes hold something that wasn’t there before.
“So, how’d it go last night?” I ask, my voice a little too sharp.
“Good,” he replies, a small grin tugging at his lips. “Good to get out, you know?”
I nod, even though I don’t feel good about it. “Yeah, I get it. You need a break.”
“I’m not gonna lie,” he says, sitting on the bench next to me and wiping his hands. “It was nice. Got to talk to someone who wasn’t covered in grease all the time.”
Something in my chest tightens. “Who?”
“A few girls I met through friends,” he says casually. “Nothing serious.”
I pretend I’m okay with it. I tell myself it’s nothing. But the little voice in my head won’t shut up, won’t stop reminding me I was probably overreacting. That I had no right to feel... well, whatever this is. Jealous? I shake my head. No way. I don’t have the right to be jealous.
Still, the more I see him with that look in his eyes, the more it stings. Something inside me, something I buried deep beneath the layers of friendship, is aching. Is it too late for me to want more than the cars, the garage, the routines?
But I keep telling myself the distance between us isn’t real. This is all a phase. He’ll get whatever is going on out of hissystem, and we’ll go back to our easy banter, our comfortable connection. It’s better this way.
The weeks leading up to graduation fly by in a blur. Schoolwork piles up, but I can always count on Xavier to make me laugh during study breaks. The tension between us remains, but we have a routine. Every day, he walks me to all my classes, and we sit together at lunch. I’m not about to throw it all away because of... whatever this is.
One afternoon, I catch him staring at his phone, his brow furrowed, his fingers tapping the screen in thought. It’s a brief moment, but it’s enough to catch my attention.
"Everything okay?" I ask, trying to sound neutral.
"Yeah." He clears his throat and pockets his phone quickly. "Just... stuff."
I know better than to push. But for some reason, I can’t stop the question from escaping before I can bite it back. "Are you... seeing her again?" I mean to sound casual, but it comes out sharper than I expected.
