“Izzy…” Her name feels like a promise. “We need to talk.”
Her shoulders stiffen, and she doesn’t turn around. But I don’t let go. Not this time. “Please,” I say, softer. “I’m not letting you go.”
She draws in a sharp breath, the kind that says she’s close to breaking. I can feel it. I can feel her slipping, but this time I won’t let her fall alone.
Slowly, she turns to face me, her eyes softer now, the wall beginning to crack. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“I do,” I answer right away. “I’m trying to, Izzy, but I can’t fix it if you don’t let me in. So please… let me in.”
For a long, torturous moment, she says nothing. The crowd, the race, everything fades as I wait for her to speak.
Finally, she lets out a long breath, looking away for a second before meeting my gaze again. Her walls are still there, but now there’s something else, something more vulnerable.
“You’re not the only one running, X,” she says, her voice thick. “I’m scared, too. But I don’t know if we can keep doing this… or keep pretending things are fine when they’re not.”
“I’m not pretending,” I whisper, reaching out to touch her cheek and forcing her to look at me. “But I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not on us.”
The tension between us crackles, electric, and for the first time tonight, I see a flicker in her eyes. Hope? Regret? Maybe both.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise, leaning in. “You can push me away all you want, but I’m here. I’m not leaving.”
For a brief second, she lets herself soften, just a little. It’s not enough to fix everything, but it’s enough to make me believe we still have a shot, maybe, just maybe.
She swallows hard and steps back, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “I don’t know if I can believe you, X. But… I’ll try, for us.”
It’s not the answer I want, but it’s a start. And that’s all I need. For now, anyway.
I watch her walk away, and though there’s still a long road ahead of us, I feel a flicker of something I haven’t felt in days. Hope. Hope that we’re not too far gone.
Chapter Three
Izzy
I’ve been avoiding him. I know I’ve been doing it, but I can’t help it. After the conversation with Xavier earlier that night, everything feels like it’s hanging on the edge of a cliff. One wrong move, and it’ll all come crashing down. He’s too damn persistent. He wants this to work. He’s trying to make things right, but I don’t know if I’m ready, not after what the girls at school have done to me.
The race is about to start, and the engines roar around the track, drowning out everything else. The sound, the vibration under my feet, all of it quickens my pulse. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right. The tension between Xavier and me is palpable, even with the noise of the race all around us. He’s there, watching me from across the pits, his eyes burning through the crew, always watching me like he’s waiting for me to decide. And I can’t.
I focus on my car, pushing thoughts of Xavier aside, but I can’t ignore the nagging in my chest. I’m not just avoiding him; I’m avoiding myself, too. After everything that’s happened, can I trust him again? Or am I just setting myself up for the same heartbreak?
“Izzy!” Marco’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I snap to attention. “You’re up next. Let’s check your car.”
I nod, trying to keep my face neutral as I walk toward my car, my boots hitting the dirt with a sharp click. There’s a low hum in the air as I approach my nineteen-eighty-eight Monte Carlo street stock, and the familiar weight of my helmet feels like the only thing keeping me grounded. As I inspect the vehicle, I notice the issue. It’s minor at first, just a slight wobble in the rear tire. But the unease grows. Something’s wrong with the suspension, and I know I don’t have much time before the race starts.
I glance around, looking for someone to help, but I catch only Xavier out of the corner of my eye, already heading in my direction. He’s not stupid. He knows the look on my face. He knows something’s up.
“Izzy,” he says, his voice steady, but I can hear the edge of concern in it. “What’s going on with your car?”
I glance at him for a second, then quickly turn my focus back to the car. I can’t deal with him right now, not when the race is so close. “It’s nothing,” I say, trying to brush him off, but my voice lacks conviction. The truth is, I’m scared. I’ve never had a problem with this car before, and now, right before the race? It feels like a bad omen.
Xavier steps closer, but I keep my back turned, not wanting him to see how much I’m struggling. “Izzy,” he says again, more gently. “Let me help.”
I bite back a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of his presence pressing down on me. He wants to fix everything, to make it right again, but I can’t let him, not like this.
“I don’t need your help,” I snap, the words slipping out before I can stop them. I don’t mean it, but I’m not ready to face whatever this is between us.
There’s a brief silence before Xavier speaks again, his voice softer yet still firm. “We’re both racers, Izzy. And right now, you’re not going to make it through this race unless you let me help.”
My stomach twists, and a wave of shame floods over me. He’s right. I don’t want to admit it, but I can’t fix this alone. I’ve been trying to do it all on my own for so long, but sometimes it’s okay to ask for help.
