So why can’t I stop thinking about him?
Ryan climbs up a large piece of limestone as wide as the hood of a car. He is now a foot taller as he turns around to face me.
“Are you having a good time?”
“Sure,” I reply out of habit and even in the darkness I can see his face fall into a frown. Maybe if I had lingered a bit longer before answering he wouldn’t have called my bluff.
“It’s because you don’t know anyone,” he says.
“I guess you’re right,” I say, taking a step closer to the rock as the darkness surrounds us.
Ryan grabs the top of my head and shakes it around as if I am a bobble head toy.
“Seth and Kevin looked like they enjoyed your company.”
“Are you jealous?” I ask in a sing-song voice as I poke him in the stomach.
“No.”
“What?” I balk, jerking my hand away from his body and shaking it as if it were contaminated with nasty Ryan germs. “Why the hell not?” He grabs my hand and pulls me onto the rock with him. We are now standing face to face on the rough limestone. Although dark shadows hide his eyes, I know they are boring into mine.
“Let me tell you something, Hana,” he begins. I am thankful for the break in eye contact as he lowers himself into a sitting position on the rock and motions for me to follow.
“My dad has this saying, and he’s told it to me my whole life.” He stares at the treetops as he continues, “And it wasn’t until I got older that I realized just how true Dad’s saying was.”
He looks back at me, smiling as if he knows a secret more important than the meaning of life.
“Well?” I nearly shout. Anticipation seeps out my pores.
“As my dear old dad says,” he clears his throat and then speaks in a deep voice, mocking his father, “Son, she’s going home with the winner. She don’t care who he is, but she’ll be going home with him.” He swallows. “Even if she arrived with someone else.”
A moment of silence passes. Ryan sits next to me with a satisfied look on his face, probably still recalling the so-called wise words from his father. I don’t know what to make of it and am growing frustrated with how everything in this town, including supposed words of wisdom, has to do with motocross.
“I don’t understand,” I say finally. Ryan nudges me with his arm and then rests his chin on my shoulder. I stare straight ahead, afraid of how close we’ll be if I look at him.
“It means the girl will always choose the winner – not some guy like Seth or Kevin – but me.” I give an apathetic shrug and his head bobs, still on my shoulder. He continues, “I am not the least bit jealous of any guy who talks to you, because I know I will win. Not just the trophy, but the girl as well.”
I breathe a long, sarcastic sigh. “You are so full of yourself.”
With his chin still on my shoulder, he leans in and let his lips rest on my ear. My toes go numb and my breathing becomes involuntary as I struggle to remember how to sit still. He chuckles and warm breath floats over my earlobe. And then he whispers, letting the movement of his lips graze across my skin, “You can come home with me when I win tomorrow.”
A tingle shoots down my spine. Ryan is definitely capable of winning the race tomorrow, but so is Ash. And since I am destined to go home with the winner…
“How do you know you will win?” I ask.
“I was hoping you could help me with that.” Ryan turns to face me and wraps his hands around mine. Maybe it’s all the pheromones in the air, but I don’t have a clue as to how I can help him win a race, short of sabotaging Ash’s bike. Of course, knowing Ryan, that may not be out of the question.
“Jim hasn’t let anyone see the track since he changed it up for Nationals,” he says.
The pheromones evaporate from the air and my brain returns to functioning at top speed. Even with the butterflies in my stomach and the tingling in my toes, I knew tonight with Ryan was too good to be true. He doesn’t want quality time with me – he wants quality time with the secret track information. I decide to lie.
“He showed me but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Oh yeah? How?” Ryan’s thumbs rubs circles in the palm of my hand.
“You know I can’t tell you.” A full minute passes and the smirk on Ryan’s face never leaves. He is staring me into submission. I don’t want to let him win this round.
“That would be cheating,” I add, picking at a loose string on my shorts.
“I don’t have to cheat to win…you know this.” The smirk remains. I shake my head in defiance and without a warning, he leans over and kisses my forehead. “It’s okay babe, I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
A roaring fire awaits us as we step through the woods and back on the sand bar. Ryan promised not to mention the secret track changes again but I am sure I haven’t heard the last of it.
There are more people on the sandbar than before we had left. Our fallen tree bench has been taken over by five girls who have to squeeze against each other to fit. Ryan’s truck is blocked on all sides by other vehicles. I check my cell phone for the time and wonder if I will get home before midnight.
Ryan isn’t the only racer here; there are at least a dozen other guys who were preregistered for the races tomorrow hanging out at the lake. Did they not care to get a good night’s rest before race day – National race day?
I think about Ash’s preparations for race days and can’t understand why these guys don’t do the same. Ash works out all day before a race, eats healthy meals and goes to bed as soon as the sun sets to ensure he’ll be well-rested and ready to race. Ash took his fitness regime seriously until Shawn’s accident when Ash started eating fast food and working out less. I hope he will be ready for the race tomorrow, but his chances are slim.
Ryan leans his back against the grill of his friend’s truck that’s parked facing the campfire. He takes my hand and pulls me in front of him in a movement so quick I don’t know where he is leading me until I find my back pressed against his chest. I don’t object. He wraps his arms around me and from here we have a perfect view of the fire.
As my head rests against Ryan’s massive bicep, I watch the fire dance against the night sky and think about what I’m doing here with him. Just two days ago, I hated Ryan and resented my father for allowing me to come here with him, and now I am standing under a starlit sky wrapped up in his arms. If tonight is the start of a relationship with Ryan, then I should really decide if he is really what I want.
I’m not sure I’m ready to give up on Ash, though he has given me little choice. I had taken the plunge, set aside my nervousness and asked him if we could start dating, and he said it wasn’t the right time. If I have learned anything from watching chick flicks, it’s the golden rule of dating: If he doesn’t seem into you, then he’s not into you.
Maybe it will never be the right time with Ash. Maybe that is his way of letting me down without telling me the truth. And as I struggle to digest this realization, I can’t seem to put out the tiny spark that burns deep in my chest – a tiny string of hope that maybe I am wrong and Ash does like me and the time will come. I take a deep breath and roll my eyes up to the sky. Why does life have so many maybes?
Ryan notices my heavy sigh and squeezes his arms tight for a moment in a backwards hug. Once again his lips hover next to my ear.
“Is it a huge section of whoops?”
I open my mouth to ask what he’s talking about when I remember “whoops” is a motocross word. Whoops are Ash’s favorite part on the track, but definitely not Ryan’s. Dad had asked Ash what his favorite part was, and yet he hadn’t put them on his new track. I started to question my dad’s love for Ash.
Ryan must have taken my silence as a no, because he tries again, “A big ass jump?”
“No,” I answer this time, staring at the lake. His guess was close, but still not correct. I shift on my feet. His arms start to feel more like heavy shackles instead of the warm security they were a few moments
ago.
“Two big ass jumps?” he asks. I suck in a deep breath and hold it. Just like racing, Ryan isn’t going to give up until he wins.
“I can’t tell you,” I manage to say over the pressing weight of his intimidation. He releases me and I turn to face him. He raises his arms behind him and cradles his head as if he were lying in a hammock. This is a remarkably sexy view of him.
“That’s fine,” he snorts. “I can do jumps.” His confidence borders on arrogance and although arrogance is a bad trait to have, I find myself even more attracted to him.
A breeze blows through the woods and makes my hair dance across my face. Had it not been a hundred degrees today, the breeze might be cool enough to startle me away from Ryan’s hypnotic charm. And had I been lucky enough to be startled away from his charm, then maybe I wouldn’t have made the mistake I already know I am about to regret.
“But what if it’s better not to jump?” I ask, challenging him. His eyes drift up and then down under furrowed eyebrows. He isn’t looking at me, but concentrating somewhere in the back of his mind. He doesn’t understand what I said. I have the upper hand now.
“What idiot wouldn’t clear a jump?” He watches the moonlight ripple over the lake and his hand swoops through the air mimicking a dirt bike. “Unless…” His eyes go blank again. A millisecond later, his eyebrows flinch. I can almost see the light bulb flicker on above his head. His thumbs tap on my shoulders. “Wait, is there a way to avoid the jump?”
Bingo.
Had I just given Ryan the secret my dad worked so hard to protect? A blanket of fear creeps over me as I try to backtrack, “I don’t know.”
Playing dumb doesn’t work. Ryan’s smug look of self-satisfaction is now perfect. He could patent the look on his face at this moment, filing it under A ,for Arrogance in the Great Hall of Perfected Facial Expressions.
“Ah ha…” He takes a slow breath and closes his eyes to enjoy it. “Good one, Jim.”
Ryan’s interest in me nose-dives into a black hole abyss moments after he gets the secret out of me. Now I’ve spent fifteen minutes watching Ryan’s spirits reach Mt. Everest-like heights as he shares stories with his friends around the fire. All eyes are on Ryan. I have nowhere to sit that wouldn’t leave my butt damp and covered in sand. I want to go home.
It’s ten o’clock. I don’t want to call my dad. Shelby never replied to my text and was probably asleep by now anyway. Ryan starts to entertain the crowd with the story of how he cleared Dad’s ninety-foot double when he was only eight years old. I take that as an opportunity to slip out of here unnoticed.
I venture far enough away from the lake so I can’t hear Ryan’s voice anymore. When I reach the road I know I should turn back, but stubborn pride keeps me walking. This is stupid, being alone at night in the middle of nowhere, but I can’t find a part of me that cares. Even the part of my conscience that wants me to do the right thing has taken the night off.
Every minute I walk without Ryan calling me panicking and asking where I am sends more pain through my heart. Two dots of light appear where the road turns ahead of me. It’s the first vehicle I’ve all night; even when Ryan and I were in the woods no one had driven by.
As the truck approaches, its bright lights cover me and I can’t see anything, as if I were performing on stage. I squint and look at the ground as it passes. After what seems like ages, I can see again. Tires screech to a stop. I look behind me and as the truck’s taillights turn white as it reverses toward me. My heart stops.
I’m about to be kidnapped on a county road in the middle of nowhere. What a horrible way to die. I am at least two miles from the lake. No one will hear me scream. I keep walking. To my left are the woods and to my right is an open pasture of farmland. I try to think of an escape route and pray for safety at the same time.
Should I run into the woods? Nothing makes sense in my mind. There is a cell phone in my pocket but I don’t even think to reach for it. All I can think about was how terribly scared I am.
The sound of rubber tires rolling over the pavement grows closer. I can just see the bumper of a red truck in my peripheral vision when it comes to a stop. I am too scared to look, too scared to run.
“Don’t just stand there,” Ash says. “Get in.”
Chapter 19
Relief floods over me. My mind goes from terrified to thrilled at the speed of light. I am no longer going to be murdered – I’m being rescued! I yank open the truck door and jump inside. I don’t even notice the broken nail I acquire in my hasty scramble, and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter because I have never been happier in my life.
I slide to the middle seat and throw my arms around Ash’s neck. He stiffens, out of surprise I hope. I squeeze him tighter and his shoulders relax. His hand reaches up and pats me awkwardly on the back. My cheek flattens against his and I can smell the coconut shampoo in his dreadlocks. Spending time with Ryan makes me realize how much I miss Ash. I don’t want to let go.
Ash isn’t as enthused about my embrace. He clears his throat as he peels my arms off him one at a time and places them carefully in my lap. Then he shifts into first gear and makes a slow U-turn on the empty road, leading us toward home.
I can’t stop staring at him as I sit back in the passenger seat and buckle my seatbelt. We haven’t said a word, but silence with Ash doesn’t bother me as much anymore. He is a quiet person and I have accepted it. I don’t want to talk about what had happened at the lake, especially not with Ash, but it doesn’t take him long to ruin the silence.
“What are you doing out here?” The question sounds more like an accusation as he stares at the road ahead of him instead of at me.
“Walking,” I say, but it sounds more like a question.
“Alone?” His jaw is hard-set and I imagine my father would look the same way if he were in Ash’s position.
Of course I was alone. What kind of question is that? Had he seen any other people walking on the road with me? He looks at me again, this time with raised eyebrows that demanded answers. I shrug.
His lips press into a thin line. “You could have been killed, girl.”
The words sting more coming from Ash than if they had come from my dad, and calling me girl is the icing on the cake of regret and poor decisions. There is a disappointment in his voice that is both sweet because it shows he cared about me, but annoying because we are peers. He is only a year older than I am, and therefore has no right to lecture me. It looks as though he’s about to launch into a fatherly speech. I’m not in the mood to be belittled tonight.
“Well why are you out here?” I ask, turning the accusation around on him. “I thought you’d be resting for the race.” I fold my arms over my chest and stare at him, waiting for an explanation. If the truck wasn’t so dark inside, he’d be able to see that my evil accusing glare is nothing more than a furrowed brow and pursed lips that wouldn’t intimidate a squirrel.
“I was asleep,” he says, shooting me a sideways smirk that almost wakes up the butterflies in my stomach. “Shelby called and asked me to check on you.”
Wind gushes in through the open window, causing my hair to tangle around my face. I fight with the unruly strands and force them to retreat behind my ears. I think back to the text I sent Shelby earlier tonight. I was only whining to her the way best friends are supposed to do. Did I really sound so distraught and needy that she had to call her brother to come take care of me?
Ash reaches across me and rolls up my window. “Thanks,” I say, finally getting my hair to settle back in place. He nods in reply and pushes a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I think I catch a glimmer of kindness in his eyes, but when he returns both hands to the steering wheel, his face becomes ridged once more.
“I had no idea you’d need this much checking up on,” he says.
“I’m fine, actually…Thanks.”
“Please explain to me why you were walking alone.”
I stare out the window and don’t answer. The muscles in hi
s arms tighten as he grips the wheel. His anger makes me feel like apologizing but know I have no reason to be sorry to anyone, especially not Ash.
If I could conjure up a decent lie as to why I’m walking alone, I would use it. But when I’m around Ash, he is all I can think about. It’s similar to the mind-numbing effects Ryan has on me, only lately when I’m with him I still think about Ash. I hate that he is upset with me right now. I want to say something to make him happy, something that would make him turn into the guy who sat on the weight bench with me and stole my heart. But as I can’t think of anything besides the veins bulging in Ash’s forearms, I say nothing.
Finally, his voice softens. “Did someone hurt you?”
I shake my head in reply. He stops at an intersection and takes the opportunity to look at me instead of the road. Again, he pushes my hair behind my ear although it didn’t need it. His hand lingers on my cheek and I wrap my hand around his and pull it to my lap. I don’t know how long he will let me hold his hand since he needs it to drive, so I hold on tight for the time I do have.
“I just didn’t fit in with those people,” I mumble and gaze at his scarred hand. I turn it over and rub my finger across the calluses on the pad of his palm. They are rough to the touch and a sign of a true motocross racer.
“Yeah I heard a bunch of racers were having a party out there. I didn’t know you knew any of them,” he says. He shakes his head and adds, “You’re pretty shy; I can’t believe you went,” and chuckles to himself. I give him a sarcastic eye-roll and laugh with him, happy that his anger with me is fading.
He pulls his hand away after a few seconds. His face falls and the air thickens once again. He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it, unsure of what he was going to say or how he would say it. I watch him shift gears and start driving again. His eyes are pained and I can’t bring myself to ask what troubled thoughts swim around in his mind. He had come to check up on me and I am safe; what more could he be worried about?
Motocross Me Page 16