Labeled

by Jenni Linn

  Green light floods the car, then, and I pull my attention back towards the road. Instinctively, I put the car in first and drive. We reach the small town that's right before the track. I love the feel of this town; it’s like something out of a movie. The main street is full of family-owned businesses on either side--A deli, florist, a laundry mat, clothing boutique and, at the end, a diner with amazing homemade food and pies. The town locals are all big racing fans, and the track is their money maker. It brings people in from all around, even people out of state!

  As our line of cars drives through the little town, the rumble from our exhausts bounces off the buildings, creating a loud hum. It’s almost deafening but it makes me giddy. The entrance is not far off from the main road, and as we approach, there’s already a decent line of cars. Thankfully, the line moves steadily and within minutes I’m pulling up to the pay booth. Taylor hands me her money and turns down the music for me. The older man leans out of the booth, wearing a shirt with the track name on it, and glances into the car. "Racers?"

  "One.”

  "Need a helmet?" he asks me.

  "Nope." If you don’t have your own helmet they will rent you one. With how many times we are here, it’s just smart to invest in one. I hand him my helmet, so he can inspect it, making sure it's up to standards. He hands it back to me, along with a paper filled with information about the track and rules. "That'll be thirty," he informs me. I hand him the money, and he puts it in the drawer, then exits the booth with a marker in his hand, "Number?"

  "Six Fifteen," I tell him and watch as he writes the number, my birthday, on the top of my windshield, then on my back window. He taps on the roof of my car. "All good. Drive safe!" The man gets back in his booth. I shift into gear and creep away slowly. The road isn't the smoothest and goes about half a mile before opening into a massive parking lot. The track is beyond the lot behind an eight-foot chain-link fence. Metal bleachers, similar to ones you find at a high school football field are to the right, in front of the starting line. There are a few concession stands behind the bleachers, with porta-potties not too far away from the picnic tables. The back of the parking lot is already getting full. I drive slowly through the lot, watching for people walking around when Taylor calls my name.

  "Yeah?" I answer her but keep my eyes focused ahead.

  "I love you, you know that right?"

  "Uh. Yeah?" I glance at her, confused at where she's going with this. I hear her sigh and she continues, "You're my sister from another mister, and I know I told you I'd share Wes' penis with you, but I lied."

  I burst out laughing. It’s loud, and obnoxious.

  "I love you but his peen is mine."

  "Oh my gosh, Tay..no worries. His peen is all yours." I pull in next to Wes' car, his number written on his window, which happens to be his and Taylor's anniversary date. Did I ever mention how grossly, disgustingly adorable they are? I pull the e-brake and look over at Taylor. She wipes the back of her hand across her forehead and blows out a large breath. Dramatic much? "Well whew, I am so glad we had this talk."

  Her door is opened, and Wes helps her out of the car. I just shake my head, silently laughing to myself, and cut the engine. I get out, round the front of my car, and lean against the fender. The hood is open on Wes' car, as a couple of different racers wanted to see what he's got going on under there. It's shady if you don't want to show what you're running, and most likely people won't want to race you, especially when dealing with cash races. He talks while his arm is draped around Taylor's shoulders.

  I tune out their talk and take in the surroundings. The bleachers are filling up, and I twist to look down by the finish line where some trucks are parked with people sitting on the tailgates. I bring my attention back to the racing lanes, people are already lining up. I'm watching them prep the track when I feel heat all along my right side. It's startling. I whip my head to find the cause of the sudden warmth. Chase is standing extremely close. So close, that if he moved another inch we'd be touching. He must notice my attention is now on him because he looks down at me, a wide smile breaking out over his face. That smile and his proximity turn my legs to jelly, but thankfully my car is helping me manage to stay on my feet. He leans in a little and says, "Hi," His voice is low and intimate like this ‘Hi’ is for me, and me only. His beautiful blue eyes are staring into mine, making me lose myself even more than I already am. I take in a deep breath, and out comes a breathy, "Hey," His face is closer now. I don't recall him moving in, but I can see his pupils dilate. I remember Taylor telling me--she is always reading these magazines--this little tidbit about the pupils dilating when someone is looking at someone they find attractive.

  I bite the inside of my cheek to fight the giggle that wants to erupt from my mouth, which will no doubt make me look like a bumbling idiot. I wonder if he knows this fact; there's no doubt my pupils are the size of a quarter. I'm warm all over as his eyes move all across my face. The whole exchange lasted seconds, but it's something that will replay in my head for the rest of the night. Maybe even my life. He moves away, the smile slowly vanishing, and looks back at the group. I'm still staring at his strong beautiful profile, taking in his appearance. His buzzed hair. His fitted T-shirt, snuggling against his muscles. Is it weird to be jealous of a shirt? I shake my head to clear myself of my lust and glance back at the group.

  Thankfully no one is paying us any attention. Not to mention, Wes' body is practically hiding me. In the short time we’ve been here, more people have gathered around, including a few race groupies. One girl is pressed up to Vance's side. Ugh. Gross. Vaughn's arm is slung around some girl--that girl is not Tracy. I shake my head.

  A loud and high pitched revving breaks the conversation and causes everyone's head to turn. A handful of bikes--crotch rockets--go driving by. It is by far the most obnoxious thing in the entire world, but this particular group is just that. They are insane, rude and just bad news. It's unfortunate because their leader, if you want to call him that, is one guy who's not afraid of going head to head with my brothers. Dixon continues to harass me after I've turned him down every time. I think it's more to bother my brothers than anything. Rumor has it is that he deals drugs to afford parts for his bike. They continue to rev as they drive by. Chase leans into me but keeps his attention on the bikes. "Who are those clowns?"

  "Dixon, and his crew."

  He laughs and just shakes his head. I'm not sure what he's thinking. The bikes have passed and park down the lot. Everyone is back to talking to whoever they were before being interrupted. "Hellooo spectators!" the announcer comes over the loudspeaker. People in the bleachers scream, whistle, and cheer. "Let's get this show on the road!"

  Two cars, both Mustangs, roll up to the starting line. I look at everyone, and their attention is on the cars. The loud revving snaps my attention back to the line, rightfully so. The older Stang is loud; louder than its opponent. You can see the car shake as its owner is giving it some gas. The newer Mustang is revving back. Seconds later they're flying down the track. It's over almost as soon as it started. The scores flash up on the boards near the end of the track. The older Mustang wins with a slightly better time. Cheering from the stands erupts, most likely the driver’s friends or family. Suddenly Dixon is next to me, pulling me to his side.

  "Hey, baby," he says.

  "Dixon,” I roll my eyes, “get off me." I try to push his arm off, but he just squeezes me to him.

  "Awe, babe. Don’t be like that." This is exhausting.

  "For the millionth time, don't call me that." I turn and duck under his arm. He doesn't try to grab me again, but he's smiling because it's just fun to him. I feel Chase at my back, and my brothers are rounding Wes' car.

  “Dixon, get your ugly ass outta here," Vance says as he stops two feet in front of Dixon, my brothers, and Wes at his back. Dixon looks at me and back at my brothers, "Hey Vance, nice to see you too! Your sister happens to like my ugly ass."

  "Shut up Dixon, and move along," Vin cuts i
n. Dixon puts his hands up in submission. "Okay. Okay. I'm going." He looks at me and winks, "I'll see you later doll face."

  "Not happenin' dickface," Vance spits out. I wave goodbye as he turns and walks away. I watch him go, as do my brothers. Dixon is really attractive and, worse yet, he knows it. He has this ‘James Dean’ look to him. He's an asshole and has probably slept with more girls than my brothers combined...not to mention his chosen profession. It's a shame. My brothers move away, but I can still feel Chase at my back. I turn to face him.

  "He do that often?" His eyes still on Dixon.

  "Yeah, unfortunately. I think he does it to bother my brothers."

  "I don't think so."

  "I mean, in the beginning, I think he might have been serious. He would get to me when I wasn't around my brothers. I'd turn him down every time. I am one of the very few girls he hasn't slept with...all I am is a challenge to him. Now he does it right in front of them." Chase doesn't say anything, just nods. We go back to leaning against the car, listening to the guys talk. Two more cars go zooming down the track. I feel something curl around my pinky, confused, I glance down. Chase's pinky is wrapped around mine. I look up and try to act normal. My eyes are bugging out of my head. The butterflies are swarming my stomach.

  "You alright back there V?" Vaughn yells to me. I yank my hand away from Chase's and cross my arms over my chest. My heart is pounding; of course they ruin a moment. Even though Vaughn had no idea, I still blame him. I look at Vaughn. He has a shit-eating grin on his face. I collect myself, bring out the sass, and give him my smug smile. "Peachy."

  Vaughn laughs, "You look like you're about to shit yourself." Chase laughs beside me, and of course, Vaughn feeds on that, "Right? She looks like she's about to drop a load." I glare at Vaughn. Chase starts to say something, but I shove my finger against his lips to shut him up.

  "No dear brother, I'm not scared."

  "Well then…let's do this."

  I smile. "Let's..."

  Douche Nozzle

  Vaughn rubs his hands together like one of those evil cartoon characters, smiles wide, and runs to his car. I turn and glare at Chase, "What is so funny?"

  "I'm sorry, you look freaked out."

  "Yeah, just a bit." I put my hands on my hips. "You have some big balls doing that!"

  He laughs again. "Maybe one day you'll see for yourself."

  I stiffen. Holy crap! He did not just say that!

  He gets in my face, "I'm kidding, V. Let's go…you have a race to win." Chase walks me to my car. I open the door and get into the driver’s side and leave the door open because Chase is standing in between my door and the car. He kneels, stares at me, and looks like he wants to say something but remains quiet. He stands and looks down—"Kickass, V"—then walks away without another world, or waiting for me to say anything back. I close the door and start my car.

  Putting the car in reverse, I back out and drive to the lineup. Vaughn is waiting for me and I pull up next to him. There's a couple of cars ahead of us, so the wait time is a bit longer than I'd like. No matter how many times I've done this, or plan to do this, it never fails to get my blood pumping and my heart racing. It's a feeling like no other. I'm starting to sweat, even though the windows are wide open. With the number of cars around us the air is mostly hot exhaust fumes.

  For a couple minutes, we coast forward until we're up next. I look over at Vaughn, who is putting on his face mask while bopping around to his music. I shake my head. He's such a dork. He looks over and stops what he's doing to slice his pointer finger across his neck, the universal sign for 'you're dead'. I laugh, make a fist and smash it into my palm, then point to him. He puts on his helmet. I follow suit, first with my mask, then with my helmet.

  The cars in front us take off and two minutes later we're motioned forward. I move the car up, slowly, lining up until the light on the tree shines bright. "I got this," I chant to myself, "Kickass." My sole focus is on the tree. My feet are ready to shift, and I have both hands on the steering wheel. My heart is pounding. I take in a deep breath and exhale.

  Amber.

  Boom. Boom.

  Amber.

  Boom. Boom.

  Amber.

  Deep Breath.

  Green!

  My right foot presses down on the gas pedal as my left foot relieves it’s pressure on the clutch and zoom--my car shoots forward, propelling my body back into the seat. The speedometer pushing towards the rev line.

  Shift.

  My surroundings blur by me, I can see Vaughn's car in my peripheral vision, he's slightly ahead. I press down on the gas pedal.

  Rev Line.

  Shift.

  The exhaust is loud, filling the car with nothing but a loud hum.

  Rev Line.

  Shift.

  The nose of my car is passing his. "Yes!" I whisper, my lips split in a smile wide.

  Rev Line.

  Shift.

  All of a sudden, his car disappears, and I pass the finish line. I begin the process of downshifting and braking, glancing in my rearview as I do. Vaughn is pretty far behind. Obviously, something happened. I slow down and pull up next to the time booth and the guy hands me my time slip. "Nice job!" he says. I give him a thumbs-up as I pull away from the booth. I take the ‘U’ and drive towards our spot, parking next to Wes' car. The crew comes over shouting and hollering. I pull off my helmet and mask. Vaughn pulls up shortly after and he rips off his helmet. He jumps out of his car before I've even opened my door.

  "What the hell happened dude?" Vance yells to Vaughn, busting his balls.

  "Redo, V!" He completely ignores everyone and stalks to my driver’s side.

  "What?!" I toss my helmet in my passenger seat.

  "I missed a gear."

  I burst out laughing and open my door. "This just proves who the better driver is," I point to myself and put my arms over the top of my door.

  "Bullshit. We need to do it over."

  I move away from my door, walking until I'm standing in front of him, and put my hands on my hips. "I don't think we do."

  He huffs, "I fucked up. Hardy har har. It wasn't a fair race. I had you!"

  I sigh because he's right. It wasn't exactly a fair race. "Fine."

  He jumps back in his car.

  "Wait, now?!" I yell.

  "Hell yeah!"

  I huff loudly in frustration. He backs out before I'm even in my car. I should've just told him to suck it up...that he's a crap driver, and leave it at that. "Douche Nozzle," I mumble to myself while climbing back into my car. I shift into reverse and meet him at the lineup.

  Make It Up to You

  I watch Veronica get back into her car with annoyance and smile to myself. Watching her race is the sexiest thing I've ever witnessed. Better than porn. I follow the rest of the gang to our spot at the fence, standing next to Vance. "If V can get a better reaction time off the line, she could beat him." I just nod. Two cars zoom down the track. Their exhausts so loud as they pass that Vance has to shout, "They're pretty evenly matched. But"—at the word point he points his finger out—"what Vaughn doesn't know, we did some small mods to V's car recently."

  I laugh and shake my head. "That's hilarious."

  "I hope she can get him. Vaughn can be such a shit stain sometimes. He needs to be taken down a notch."

  "That's funny coming from you."

  "What?" He turns to me, "I may talk shit, but I speak the truth."

  I laugh. The Russo brothers sure are cocky motherfuckers.

  "They're up! WHOOO!" Taylor yells.

  Vaughn's charcoal gray VW pulls up and Veronica's dark blue RSX follows. I'm nervous for her. Vaughn is a sore loser and winner.

  From my view, you can't see the lights. It's only seconds...both their cars slightly lift as they take off, their exhausts whining out as they hit the rev line. V managed to get an awesome time off the line, but so did Vaughn. They're neck and neck. Vaughn's car is backfiring. Pop. Pop. Pop.

  "Go. Go. Go," I
whisper to myself, bouncing on my feet. They speed past us, and they are right on top of each other. This shit is intense. My heart is pounding.

  "GO, V!" Taylor yells out.

  "WHOOOOO!" Vance yells. "This shit is close!" The farther they move down the track, the harder it is to see who's leading. Veronica's car swivels a bit, and my heart drops.

  "Oh no!" I hear Taylor gasp.

  "Shit!" Vance says, "Shit!"

  "No!" Vin yells.

  White smoke is pouring out of V's car. Her car loses speed and stops dead at the end of the track. Vance pushes off the fence and runs down towards the time slip booth and the rest of us follow. The tow truck races on the track to remove her car. Track officials run onto the track. Veronica throws them a thumbs up, indicating that she's okay. She did awesome keeping the car straight and on the road. This is a huge blow for any car enthusiast, but it happens all the time.

  There's a trail of fluid left behind as the tow truck removes her car. The track scrubber is already on the task of cleaning up the fluids. The tow truck pulls her car to the lot at the back of the track and has her unhooked and off by the time we get down there. Vaughn is standing there with his hands on his head. He runs to her as she gets out. Vaughn squeezes her, "Are you okay? I am so sorry, V."

  V's face is bright red, either from the heat or anger. He holds her at arm’s length. "I'm fine, Vaughn. This is your fault, you--” She stumbles on her words, “--fart sucker!"

  Taylor runs to her side and wraps her arms around her shoulders, hugging her from the side.