Trading Paint

by Shey Stahl

  “I was looking for you too,” I offered. “Where’d Desy go?”

  He blinked slowly running his right hand across his jaw and then shrugged. “Home...I guess. I didn’t ask.”

  “Hmm,” I said and then walked over to the pit concession stand.

  “Wait,” Jameson yelled after me. “I’ll help you lock up.”

  “You better, I’m not walking around by myself out here...in the dark.” I insinuated.

  “Good idea. You never know what kind of crazy assholes are around here.” He laughed slinging his arm around my shoulder.

  Just like that, we were back to normal.

  With Jameson and me, nothing was complicated, so we thought, making it easy to be around each other. We never had to work at our friendship.

  If he pissed me off, I told him. If he thought I was being a bitch, he didn’t hesitate to tell me either and when you’re struggling as a teenager to find balance and understand your complicated life with the added influence of hormones, uncomplicated is a blessing.

  It still didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t keen on the idea of these others girls hounding him all the time because I saw through their cunning behavior. They were only looking for one thing, popularity. While Jameson didn’t play sports and hardly attended any school functions let alone school, he was popular among the female flock.

  This didn’t exactly make my life easy. They saw we were friends and did everything in their power to destroy that.

  3. Hot Laps – Jameson

  Hot Laps – A session held prior to time trials. This session usually runs in groups. Each car is assigned a group prior to hot lap sessions and the groups are determined by the draw that set the order for time trials. During the sessions, each car is allotted three or more laps at speed to ensure their car is ready for qualifying.

  During my junior year, I spent more time racing through the different sprint car series than I did attending school. I did fine balancing the two until the USAC sprint car division opened in Eldora that March.

  From then on, it was racing every weekend and sometimes I’d miss weeks of school if I traveled to the Midwest or East Coast. I ended up getting a tutor so I could graduate next year.

  Poor Sway had to be at school without me. We usually stuck together around there because, let’s face it, Elma High School was not something you advertised attending and, at times, had some questionable attendees.

  Tommy Davis, a good friend of mine from school, took care of her when I was gone and made sure no one messed with her. She took shit from girls at school for hanging around with me.

  They all thought she was in it for the fame but that never mattered to her. She was good at avoiding them and could give a rat’s ass what anyone thought of her. I loved that about her.

  When Memorial Day weekend came around that year, Charlie let us kidnap Sway.

  I was running in the National USAC winged sprint series that year which had a 37-race schedule. I couldn’t compete for the title since I’d missed about four races so far because of mid-term finals at school but even with those four, I was running eighth in the division points and second to Justin West in the national points.

  That weekend while waiting for Sway to arrive, Spencer caught me inside the hauler getting ready for the heat races at Terre Haute. Dad had gone to get her from the airport so that left me anxiously waiting for her. It had been about two weeks, maybe longer since we had last seen each other and I couldn’t wait to hang out with my girl. Shit, listen to me.

  She’s not your girl. She’s your friend.

  “Right.” I told myself. The thoughts weren’t lost on me that she could easily be considered my girlfriend to most, but it wasn’t like that with us. Sure, being sixteen, I was physically attracted to her, but the feelings weren’t romantic. I loved her as I would love any member of my family, she was part of our family and it was purely platonic, so I thought.

  “What’s with you two?”

  “What are talking about?” I asked looking outside once again to see if she’d arrived.

  “I don’t know...you’re a guy, she’s a girl...a hot girl.” Spencer implied.

  “It’s just not like that with us. I don’t know why but it’s not.”

  “But you find her...attractive in that way?”

  You have no fucking idea!

  I laughed trying not to let on how attractive I thought Sway was in fear that my brother would give me shit.

  “I’m not blind.”

  “Just...be careful.” He nodded. “It’s easy to break a girl’s heart that way.”

  That’s exactly why I never pursued anything with her. I knew damn well where my interest resided and that was with racing.

  Anything I had to offer any girl wouldn’t be anything more than physical.

  My desires...they were racing and racing only. I was also sixteen and I hardly knew the ways of the world but I sure thought I did.

  Sure, Sway and I experimented with each other on occasion; kisses here, touches there and we had made out on more than once occasion but it never led to anything of substance and was usually ended quickly by one of us pulling away or Sway giggling.

  There were a few girls I had also made out with from school or at different tracks where I’d been racing but that had never went anywhere either and it was usually kept PG-13.

  The rumbling of my dad’s diesel truck pulling into the pits pulled me out of my thoughts and I jumped to my feet.

  Sway was getting out of the truck with my dad.

  I smiled as did she and she ran full speed at me.

  Launching herself into my arms, she whispered. “I missed you Riley.”

  I pulled her inside the hauler when my dad approached the chief steward about a fuel problem my car had during pre-race inspections. They thought we were using some sort of additive in the fuel, which was not allowed in any of the USAC Divisions.

  “So, how’d the race last night go?”

  I grumbled for a minute before answering.

  “Shitty, I wrecked with three laps to go.”

  “That sucks...does that mean we need to party tonight to get you in the spirit of winning.”

  “I guess so. I really missed having you around.” I threw my arm around her shoulder.

  Surprisingly, tears glazed her eyes.

  “I did too.” She admitted softly.

  My hand rose to cup her cheek. “Hey...are you all right?”

  Sway, never being one to show a lot of emotion, chewed on her cheek for a minute before answering. “I just...it’s not the same when you’re not at school. Girls well, they...think I’m into you and constantly give me shit about it. It’s annoying...sometimes it gets to me. That’s all.”

  “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Into me...I thought we were friends.” I mumbled. I didn’t want to hear she felt anything more than a friendship.

  “No. I mean...as friends. I don’t have feelings for you if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Good. Friends,” I smiled and hugged her.

  Glancing at the pit bleachers, I saw Amber eyeing me. Amber was Justin West’s cousin that followed me around any race she attended. She was nice I guess, but annoying. She was also fourteen. Being sixteen, almost seventeen, that was not an option to me. I didn’t go for the younger ones. Besides, she seemed clingy, that was another trait that was not an option.

  I pulled Sway closer. “Do me a favor this weekend?”

  “Sure,” she said without question.

  “Will you pretend to be my girlfriend for a few days?” she started to object so I held my fingers to her lips and tilted her head at Amber. “You see that blonde over there?”

  “Yeah,”

  “She’s obsessed with me and I may or may not have told her you were my girlfriend the other day.”

  “You dirty fucking liar.” She accused but laughed despite her scowl. “Sure, but if you molest me at any other time other than necessary, I will junk pu
nch you.”

  “So that’s a no on sex then?” I grinned.

  Her expression was alarmed. “Deals off,” she said beginning to walk away.

  I snatched her hand with mine pulling her back toward me, she stumbled over the tools scattered on the floor and landed against my chest. “I was only joking.”

  “Good,” she finally said.

  We didn’t have to do much pretending to convince anyone we were girlfriend/boyfriend and we did end up kissing a few times.

  My male hormones peaked and attacked her in the back of the hauler at which point she had to push me off her, laughing. She thought it was funny; I did not.

  I’d never spent so much time in the shower as I did during that weekend. Being able to kiss Sway whenever I wanted was a little much for me to handle.

  The weekend of racing went good. I ended up with a feature win that night at Terre Haute and then two-second place finishes to Justin West at Lernerville and Grandview.

  Justin West was tearing it up in the USAC silver crown divisions with me. After his second championship, he caught the name “Wicked West from the Mid-West.”

  Another kid who was becoming a definite force was Ryder Christiansen from North Carolina. He was a year younger than us but had significant possibilities as a driver and frequently referred to as the “Beast from the East.”

  If you ever saw Ryder, at barely five foot two, he was hardly a beast.

  I didn’t have a name that I knew of, or at least they never told me what it was.

  That weekend in Terre Haute also marked my first pit fight.

  During a heat race, this kid from California, Bret Luther, kept clipping my right rear. I corrected it every time except the fourth time when it sent me into a flip.

  This was not acceptable to me and I let him know it.

  I should have known my chances of doing damage to a kid nicknamed “Bubba” were poor.

  Me being roughly six foot one now had the guy on height but weight, not so much. I worked out constantly and felt comfortable with my strength but when you encounter a two-hundred and sixty pound seventeen year old kid, you shouldn’t start a fight. I lacked any sane thoughts that night though.

  Holding a wet towel to my bloody lip, my dad smirked. “You met Bubba?”

  “Thanks for the warning.” I grumbled.

  “No problem.”

  As my junior year progressed, I began contemplating the idea of a girlfriend.

  Spencer had started dating Alley, the girl we met coming home from Florida so entertaining the idea of a girlfriend was something I thought I should try and maybe, just maybe, I’d stop thinking about Sway naked.

  I could only hope for this at least.

  Chelsea Adams was a girl I had been messing around with these days. We had a few classes together and she frequently hung out at the track as the trophy girl from time to time which is how we met.

  I never looked twice at girls at school. At the track was different because I thought, “Hey, she’s at the track so maybe we share the same interests.”

  I soon found out that Chelsea knew nothing about racing and hated it. This wasn’t lost on me but she was attractive and willing to mess around with me so that satisfied that urge for a while and became a way for me to channel some of my hormone driven thoughts away from Sway.

  There was one problem with this. Sway hated Chelsea. So when I told her I wouldn’t be going to Tommy’s party that night, she wasn’t exactly ecstatic with me.

  Sway’s reaction, “Are you...?” her voice halted but I knew what she was asking.

  “Yeah...” I muttered unable to speak the words loud enough. “We’re going to the movies.”

  I couldn’t understand why it was so hard to tell Sway but I felt like I shouldn’t be telling her this. Yeah she was my best friend but it felt as though I was cheating on her when I wasn’t.

  “Have fun,” she simply said and walked toward Tommy who was carrying a keg into his parentless house.

  I felt an unfamiliar sadness seeing her walk away that I didn’t recognize. Was it wrong to see someone else? I thought we were friends. Did she want me for something more?

  I hardly enjoyed the movies. Thinking of Sway’s reaction had me puzzled and constantly assessing the situation like a goddamn girl. I almost checked to see if my balls were still there.

  Chelsea had other ideas and we ended up leaving early and making out in the passenger seat of my car.

  When she pulled her shirt over her shoulders, I stopped her.

  “I need to get going.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “You don’t want to...” she motioned to my erection she was currently sitting on.

  I did, believe me I did, but not with her. I felt nothing toward her besides physical excitement she was providing by writhing around on my lap. Other than that, it wasn’t much more stimulating than the porno’s I had stolen from Spencer’s stash.

  “No...I have to get up early.” I told her and drove her home without another word.

  When I got home, I threw myself against my bed when I noticed my cell phone vibrate. I had a voicemail from Tommy.

  “Sway is drunk off her ass at my house. Can you come get her? My parents will kill me if they find her in my room.”

  When I got there, Sway was sitting on Dylan Grady’s lap, kissing him.

  Glaring at Tommy, I took hold of his jacket when he tried to run from me.

  “What the fuck? I told you to keep an eye on her?”

  “I did...see,” he motioned to her with wide-eyes. “There she is...I’ve watched her the entire night.”

  Tommy has always been scared of me, for good reason. Right about now he looked like he was about to shit himself.

  It was hard not to chuckle when his appearance matched his hair color.

  Tommy had this curly orange hair that looked like carrot top or something you’d see on a clown. I usually steered clear of orange heads because the orange hair just didn’t seem right to me and usually meant the individual was off their rocker in some way but Tommy was cool.

  I punched his shoulder. He rocked back on his heels reaching for the doorframe to steady himself.

  “I said watch her, not let her make out with that douche.”

  I strode up to them determined to give Dylan a piece of my mind. I stopped a few feet shy of them when I heard Sway whisper to him, “Let’s go outside. I need some air.”

  They stood and walked outside. I don’t know if she saw me standing there but I’m sure she didn’t because she walked right past me and left with Dylan.

  Frustrated, I left and told Tommy to keep her keys with him so she couldn’t drive. I couldn’t control who she left with but I wouldn’t let her drive drunk.

  I spent the remainder of the night replacing the rear axle on my car before tomorrow night’s race at Elma while thinking of ways to convince Sway she could do better than Dylan.

  I couldn’t come up with anything, anything that made any sense at least.

  I didn’t want to stand in her way but I also thought she was far better off without someone like Dylan. Not understanding the pain I felt when I saw her kissing Dylan was also throwing me into a spin.

  I’d never seen Sway kiss someone else other than her dad and it was also something I never wanted to see again.

  Months passed and the school year progressed.

  Sway never talked about Dylan with me and I never spoke about Chelsea. I guess you could say she was my girlfriend to the outside eye but I hardly admitted it to Sway or myself. Chelsea and I continued to go on dates, mess around and then I took her home. It wasn’t love; it wasn’t even lust. It was filling a crack I knew was there but also refused to look to see how the crack originated in the first place.

  Chelsea was all right, but she lacked a personality. Get her talking for more than a few minutes and you quickly realized the dye she used in her blonde hair had killed one too many brain cells.

  I don’t know if I need to point this out, but I hated
high school, absolutely hated it. The high school experience alone is an emotional rollercoaster. Hell, our teenage years themselves were enough and then you add the pressures of co-existing together with a bunch of other crazy teens...stupid.

  All the hype around school was discussions of who was going to junior prom and with whom. I had no desire whatsoever to go to a high school dance. But no, my mom was forcing me to go. Something about needing to be a normal teenager and I was only partially paying attention to her.

  Sway and I had originally planned on going together when she backed out and said she couldn’t. I knew it wasn’t that she couldn’t but that she didn’t want to. We equally hated high school.

  Knowing my mom wouldn’t let me back out, I was forced to go with Chelsea.

  The night of junior prom, I was pouting in my room while dressing in my tuxedo. The fact that I had to wear a monkey suit to the event was yet another bullshit tradition I was not so happy with.

  I decided to call Sway to let her know how upset I was with her backing out. It went straight to voicemail so I expressed my concerns with: “I hate you. Come rescue me.”

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been sitting in my room sulking and wondering if I could make myself appear sick when I heard a tap at the window. I turned to see Sway standing there, balancing herself on a ladder.

  My first concern should have been how in the hell Sway made it to my second story window but it wasn’t; it was relief. I had no intention of going to that goddamn school dance nor did I want my pictures taken as a reminder that I was forced to attend in the first place.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You said you needed to be rescued. Are you coming or not?” Sway asked breathlessly. “The food is getting cold.”

  “You brought food?”

  “Well yeah, I was hungry.”

  “I haven’t climbed out my window in years.” I admitted climbing out nonetheless. After falling about five feet, I landed on my ass with Sway standing over me laughing.

  “Smooth Riley, real smooth,”

  I glared at her brushing grass and dirt from my tux. Why I was still wearing it should have concerned me. “I should have changed.”