Motocross Me (10 page)

“Dude, Kasey, just take your dumb trophy and get out of here,” she says, tossing a wink toward me. Kasey holds out her trophy and admires it. “This is so much nicer than the second place one, don’t you think so, Hana?”

I shrug. The younger girl asks for her second place trophy and promises Kasey she’ll win the next race. Kasey leans toward me and fake-whispers, “She wishes.” I laugh as I watch them go back downstairs, taking turns shoving each other into the railing.

“I believe you have something for the winner of today’s Pro race,” Ash says into the window hole as I’m focused on the papers in front of me. I take my sweet time acknowledging him. When I finally make eye contact, I see the smirk in his voice is also plastered on his face.

“Yes I do, but let me see who won today.” I pretend to look through an imaginary clipboard. He plays along, pointing to a place in thin air. “There it is, Ash Carter, first place. That’s me.” He holds my gaze for a moment as I think of something clever to say.

“I’m gonna have to see some identification.”

He turns around and points to the back of his jersey, where his last name spans across the top with his number in large numbers underneath. “Three-three-six,” he says.

I give him the envelope with the winning prize money. “Five hundred dollars, ugh you’re so lucky.” I sigh, resting my chin in my hand.

He takes the envelope and puts his hands on either side of the window, leaning in a bit so we’re at the same eye level. “Do you think this will buy dinner for two around here?” he asks, entirely too amused with himself.

“In this town, you could probably buy the whole restaurant with that much money.” My heart gets light in my chest. Is he doing what I think he’s doing?

“So…” The calm and collected Ash Carter is starting to rip away in pieces as his fingers tap nervously on the wooden frame. “Could I take you to dinner sometime?”

I draw in a breath, unsure of what to say. I might have said yes if my heart wasn’t already set on Ryan. He bites his lip. It feels like an hour goes by.

“Actually, I’m kind of seeing someone.” There, I said it. Wait, why did I say that? Inescapable shock flashes across his face.

“Really? This soon?”

I start to reply but he stops me. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He forces a smile and backs away from the window.

I don’t belong in this chair. I belong under a rock. I hurt his feelings and things will never be the same between us. “I’m sorry, Ash.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he says, walking away and down the stairs. I watch his silhouette disappear into the setting sun and try to ignore my conscious telling me I’m going to regret this one day.

Brrrr-rrrrrr-rrr.
I fling an arm out of my warm comforter and feel around the nightstand for my phone. Who would send me a text message at this hour? Ryan, hopefully. Maybe he’ll have an excuse for not talking to me at the race.

I slide it open and squint at the bright glare on my screen.

Mom Cell

I sit up, blinking to make sure I’m not dreaming and read the name again. Mom? My mother, who hadn’t talked to me in two weeks and never replied to my voice mail, is sending me a text message at three in the freaking morning? I click to open it.

Danny and I are eloping! I wish you were here, Vegas is beautiful. Xoxoxo

Chapter 9

Shelby’s eyes are wider than an owl’s when she reads the text on my phone.

“Your mom got
married
?” she says, stacking a pile of hundred dollar bills on the table. I nod and place an identical stack next to it. Sunday’s regional races consisted of only kids’ classes and they were over before noon. Shelby is with me in the tower, helping count the weekend’s earnings. We are halfway through the cash box and already at nine-thousand dollars.

“She was all excited about it when I talked to her this morning.” I tell her about my earlier phone call with Mom.

“And she’s only known him a month?”

“Apparently she knew him a while ago, and they’ve only just now found each other again.” I count ten more bills. “But that’s probably a lie.”

“Wow,” is all Shelby can say. I don’t blame her.

 “They’re in Vegas now, but they’re having a fancy reception party in two weeks, and she wants me to go.”

Shelby smiles with a little too much enthusiasm for the occasion. “That’ll be fun.”

“You don’t have to be so nice all the time you know.”

“Sorry.” The happy smile leaves her face. “I just don’t know what to say…I hope it works out for her.”

“It won’t.” I blow a raspberry with my tongue and grab another stack of cash from the metal box.

After the money is counted and stuffed into two bank deposit envelopes, Shelby’s mom comes upstairs and asks for a ride home. Rick is at home with the flu, and she wants to be there to take care of him. Ash and their little brother Shawn were going to take advantage of the free practice for the rest of the day, so Shelby asks me to watch after them in her absence. She winks as she says it, and I know what she really means.

She thinks I should get to know Ash better and realize that I like him instead of Ryan. But with Shelby gone, I can’t see myself being comfortable around him – especially after yesterday.

I walk around the pits for some fresh air after being stuck in the tower all morning. It might be my imagination, but is everyone looking at me? Maybe it’s because I’m over-dressed for a hot and dirty motocross track. I had to dress nice in case Ryan’s beautiful self decides to show up and sweep me off my feet and bury me in the depths of his undying love. The closest I came to seeing him yesterday was when I watched him lose to Ash during their race. He never came to talk to me, and when I finally left the tower for the day, he was gone.

The tiny, horned and pitch-fork wielding voice in my head tells me he was avoiding me because he changed his mind about liking me after our kiss. I wait for the angelic voice to tell me that everything is all right, that Ryan must be humiliated over losing the race and that’s why he jetted out of here so fast. That voice never speaks up, and my level of worry increases ten-fold.

I pat my back pocket to double check that my phone is still there. It is. And although it hasn’t beeped all day, I still check for a missed text message or call. There is nothing though, only a photo of Teig and me wearing dirt bike gloves and making goofy faces as my wallpaper. I think about texting Ryan first, saying something about missing him yesterday, but girls don’t text first. It isn’t fair, but that’s how it is.

Ash’s truck has two dirt bike stands next to it but no bikes. I search for him on the track and see his bright blue helmet sink into a turn and disappear behind the tall berm of dirt. I don’t know what color of bike or gear his little brother has, but he’s probably out there somewhere, trying to avoid the big bikes.

Teig hates riding with the big bikes, but since this is open practice they all ride together. There is a small track for little bikes but Teig made it clear that the “baby track” was too juvenile for him, since the jumps are
merely
two-foot-tall hills.

The bleachers next to the baby track are empty, so I sit here and make a mental pro and con list about the consequences of texting Ryan first. Teig was right about this being a baby track. There are two kids riding around the small trail as slowly as if they were pedaling a bicycle. I am as bored watching as they must be riding that slow.

I run my thumb over the square buttons on my cell phone. Then I press New Message and add Ryan’s name. There are a million ways to write hello but I can’t think of a single one that sounds appropriate. It needs to be casual and portray me as being a laid-back kind of girl, one who doesn’t wait around all day to hear from him. I won’t even mention that I miss him.

Seven and a half minutes later I have the perfect message on my screen:
Hey you, what’s up?
I take a deep breath.

I press send.

My phone rings.

It’s Felicia. I crawl back into my skin, take a deep breath to make my hands stop shaking, and answer.

She isn’t calling to check up on me, but to tell me about the new guy she’s dating. He is a junior in college and works as a bartender. Her mother absolutely hates him and therefore Felicia loves him. I ask if he has any muscles.

“What?” she asks, “Since when do you like muscles? I thought you had a thing for guys in skinny jeans who rock out in garage bands.” 

“That was before I was introduced to the wonderful world of motocross.” I struggle to listen for a beep signaling Ryan’s reply. “This place is crawling with sexy guys, and most of them have muscles. So, yeah, muscles are my thing now.”

“It’s crawling with guys? I’ll be there in four hours.”

I let her tell me every detail about her new crush before delving into the details of mine. When I tell her about the kiss, she squeals in delight, unlike Shelby.

“I can’t believe you got a guy to like you so quickly.” She’s jealous, I can sense it in her voice. It’s probably best if I don’t tell her about Ash. Soon we’re away from the topic of boys and dissecting my mother’s motives for marrying a man half her age.

My phone feels as heavy as a brick in my back pocket. An hour has passed since I texted Ryan, and he still hasn’t replied. I pace from one end of the pits to the other. Shelby still hasn’t returned, and I am beyond bored.

Familiar faces sit on the tailgate of a silver Toyota that’s parked next to Ash’s truck. Kasey and the chubby girl notice me and wave for me to join them. Kasey introduces me to her friend whose name is Lauren. They unpack riding gear from huge duffel bags.

“Do you ride?” Lauren asks while tugging on a thick boot that goes up to her knees.

“No, I’ve never tried,” I say. They look at each other.

“How can your dad own a track and you’ve never ridden a dirt bike?” Kasey asks. I shrug and they both look at each other again. She wears a tank top and leggings with large kneepads over them. She covers that with her riding pants, an elastic belt around her waist, and a jersey. I ask how she survives the heat in all of those layers of plastic. She says it’s worth it because motocross is the best sport on earth, and Lauren agrees.

“So how do you like your new job?” Kasey starts on the buckles to her left boot.

“The work is kind of hard, but it’s really great being in this atmosphere.” I check my phone and frown. “I don’t know how you can stand being around so many hot guys at once.”

They look at each other and giggle. Lauren holds out her arm and lifts the sleeve of her jersey, showing me the brightly colored rainbow bracelet on her arm.

“It’s not that hard,” she says. “I’m not even into guys.”

My phone and I sit on the bleachers and watch the girls race laps around the track. Just like their race results from yesterday, Kasey is always ahead of Lauren. Every time Lauren gains on her, Kasey flies through a jump and lands several feet in front of her. This only motivates Lauren as she speeds up and tries to catch her again, to no avail.

They only look like fast riders as they soar over jumps with the throttle pinned while sliding through a long sweeping turn. Then Ash gets on the track, passes them, and gains such a big lead that the girls could have been walking and it would have looked the same.

My stomach growls. My traitorous phone still hasn’t rang, vibrated or even lit up. I grab it and think seriously about throwing it in the pond. Then I compromise by shoving it in my sweaty back pocket. I need a sandwich.

Molly sweeps the kitchen floor. She tries to make my lunch, but I insist on doing it myself. The woman never takes a break from life and I need to start making sure that she does.

She has a batch of brownies in the oven and I hang around chatting with her while they finish baking. I don’t understand the idea of making brownies without a celebratory reason, but I’m not about to object. I wrap my sandwich in foil and save it to eat at the track.

I slump in a chair and stare at my phone while Molly cuts the brownies into neat squares. I read my one message from Ryan three times. Molly clears her throat, tapping her knife on the countertop.

“Are you upset about your mom?” Her eyes search my face for an answer.

“No, I’m used to her making stupid choices.” I look back at my phone to avoid her concerned stare.

“Honey, you’ve had your phone in your hand for the last couple days.” Molly goes around the counter and sits next to me at the table. “What’s wrong?”

My heart beats faster. She’s trying to have a special mother-daughter talk with me and that is something I never did with my own mother. I like Molly, but can I trust her? She brushes the hair out of my eyes and tucks it behind my ear. Then she gives me a warm motherly smile, and I crumble like a sandcastle under a child’s foot.

Hot tears form in my eyes as I search for the words to answer her. What
is
wrong? My problem seems so pathetic and insignificant when I put it in words. A guy doesn’t seem to like me. Stupid as it sounds, it is the worst possible thing in the mind of a sixteen-year-old girl. I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand.

“It’s stupid,” I say, looking at my phone again. Molly doesn’t pressure me to explain. She just runs her fingers through my hair again and listens. “This guy, at the track,” I start, expecting her to flinch or show some sign of anger that this is about a guy. She doesn’t, so I continue. “He really seemed to like me, and now it’s been days and he hasn’t called or anything. I even sent him a text today and he hasn’t replied.” It feels weird telling her this, so I leave out the part about the kiss and lock my eyes on a scratch in the table. Finally, she speaks.

“When I was your age, we didn’t have text messaging but, I would say if he hasn’t called you then he’s not worth it.”

“Or maybe
I’m
not worth it.”

“You can’t think like that.” Molly gets up and brings me a brownie. “I’ve had several guys at the track ask me if you had a boyfriend.” This gets my attention.