Trading Paint

by Shey Stahl

  After convincing Charlie that I needed her there, he agreed to let her skip school.

  Spencer, Tommy and Emma also came along. This was our usual traveling team aside from Alley who decided to sit this one out.

  We never had money to pay anyone that helped us since any money I did have went right back into my car. Tommy never once acted as though he wanted to be paid for helping. We did pay his way and fed him. If you knew Tommy, you knew that all he wanted was food and beer; money didn’t matter. It didn’t matter to any of us as all any of us lived for was the next race.

  I always thought I was taking something away from Spencer and Emma being the only that raced but I soon understood that’s what they loved. They loved racing as much as I did and being the supportive family we came from, they did everything they could to help me.

  I was loved that’s for sure but that doesn’t mean they didn’t make me crazy. At the end of the day, we loved each other and they were the best fans I could ask for.

  It wasn’t unusual for Sway and me to be riding together in my truck and the others to ride in Tommy’s car. I preferred it that way for less distractions but the trip there ended up being the worst distraction of all.

  Just outside of Seattle, Sway was searching around in the backseat for a CD when she turned abruptly and sat back in her seat. I glanced around to see if she saw a cop of something but nothing, just open highway.

  “Jameson, what’s that smell?” she asked, her hand flew to her nose.

  “Huh?” I didn’t smell anything but her coconut perfume.

  Sway slapped me. “Seriously, it smells in here. Roll your window down.” She instructed rolling hers down frantically. She turned around again and stuck her ass up in the air digging around on the floor. “I still smell it, what is it?”

  “I don’t smell anything.”

  She huffed dramatically flopping back in the seat. She kept looking at me before averting her disgusted gaze out the window as a red Lexus flew past us.

  I thought she’d moved on from the smell but then she groaned.

  “Christ almighty, what the fuck is that?”

  “I don’t smell anything!” I snapped annoyed she was making such a big deal out of this.

  “Of course you don’t,” she went back to searching around on the floor in the back seat. “you’re used to it!”

  A few minutes later, she pulled out a box I didn’t recognize that clearly had something die in it. “Where’d that come from?”

  “I don’t know—your backseat?” Her eyebrow arched.

  I smelled Spencer behind this one. He once put a dead rat in the vent in my bedroom and if you have ever tried to get that smell out of a heater vent, it is fucking hopeless.

  When Sway opened the box, I nearly wrecked the fucking truck at the site of week old sushi covered in maggots and god knows what else.

  When she puked on me after opening the box, I did wreck the truck in the ditch.

  We sat there for a moment when I finally brought the truck to a halt on the side of the road, after barreling into the ditch, there appeared to be a stump that came out of nowhere. I hit that too.

  “Really?” I simply said when the airbag blew up in my face after the wreck.

  So much for safety.

  There I sat alongside the road in nothing but my underwear waiting for the tow truck while Sway laughed.

  “I’m so glad you’re amused by this.”

  “Me too,” she said giggling again to the point she looked like she was crying. This was yet another instance in my life where I was not impressed with her lack of concern for me or my truck.

  “I hope you piss yourself.”

  She stopped laughing altogether and looked appalled that I said that. “That’s an awful thing to say. Why would you say something like that?”

  “Oh I don’t know,” I gestured to the no clothes and wrecked truck. “You puked on me and made me wreck my truck.”

  “Listen asshole,” she scowled, her mood completely changing from appalled to pissed, shoving me in the chest. “that wasn’t my fault.”

  “Really?” I challenged.

  She shrugged carelessly as if this wasn’t a big deal. “Well maybe the puking part but you’re the one that left sushi in your truck for a week! Who does that shit?” she held her hand up when I went to speak. “And worst of all, you couldn’t smell it! It was rancid.”

  “I give up!” I yelled throwing my arms up against the deployed air bag.

  “As you should,” she smiled triumphantly. “This is one battle you ain’t winning Riley.”

  When we finally made it to the track, I was not in a good mood. This might have had something to do with the fact that my truck had a smashed bumper and a reeked of puke but that’s beside the point.

  What was irritating me now was walking around the pits in my fucking underwear while other driver whistled and made catcalls at me because I had no clothes to wear.

  I found my racing suit so I had something to wear and then was met with Chelsea staring at me with her sister.

  The day just kept getting better and better.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked zipping my racing suit. I told her to stay home but no, she never fucking listened to what I said. I’m surprised she even listened to what track I was going to be at.

  “I wanted to wish you luck.” She cooed with a smile and wrapped her arms around my neck.

  I sighed pulling her away.

  “I need to get to the drivers meeting.”

  I didn’t have time for this shit today. A bad showing at a World of Outlaw race did nothing for your image in racing and nothing for my determination to step out of Jimi’s shadow.

  I needed to be on my game and with the way the day was starting out, I wasn’t on my game.

  “Where’s Sway?”

  “She’s changing in the bathrooms.” I kept walking to my car as they followed close behind.

  A few drivers glanced at Chelsea. There was no denying that she was attractive but their attention to her didn’t bother me.

  Most of all, I hated when Chelsea came to the races. She spent the majority of the time bitching about dirt. Anyone wears anything white to a racetrack is asking for problems and she always did.

  I made it about twenty feet from the pit bleachers where I stopped and signed a few autographs from some of the kids racing quarter midgets that night.

  Chelsea sighed beside me, “Why do they always have to interrupt us?”

  I scowled at Chelsea when the child frowned.

  “Here you go buddy.” I handed him his program back and offered him my hat as well.

  “Thanks Jameson.” He chimed skipping away, thankfully undeterred by Chelsea’s comments.

  Sway walked out of the bathrooms in fresh clothes before I could say something sarcastic to Chelsea. I may or may not have turned a hose loose on Sway when we got her to get even but in my defense, she deserved it. I had to walk through the pits in my black boxer briefs because of her.

  “I hope you piss yourself...” Sway mocked walking up to me. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “Do you always follow Jameson to his races?” Chelsea asked her as she wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have much of a life, do you?”

  I wanted to smack her for talking to Sway that way.

  “I was invited.” Sway replied glaring in my direction. “Were you?”

  Chelsea arched an eyebrow at Sway while running her right hand down my stomach—I caught it before it went further. “Well, I am his girlfriend.”

  Not that word again.

  I groaned in misery. “Sway, Tommy is looking for you. Can you give him this,” I handed her my credentials. “Chelsea, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked once Sway walked away.

  She smiled possessively. “Sure babe.”

  Rolling my eyes, I walked with her toward the pit bleachers to get ready for the drivers meeting.

  “You need to stay in the stands if you’re going to b
e here. Only pit members are allowed down here.”

  “What about Sway? She’s not a pit member.”

  I lost it and threw my hands up in the air.

  “Will you stop it?” I yelled. “Just stop! Stop acting so goddamn possessive over everything.” My infuriated eyes focused on hers, wide with surprise. “Sway is part of my team. Every week she’s out here helping me, what do you do?”

  “I help in other ways...ways she can’t.” Chelsea purred in my ear standing on her toes to reach around my neck. My harsh clipped tone did nothing to deter her. “Did you forget what I did for you the other night?”

  I hadn’t forgotten. Wanted too but unfortunately, I hadn’t.

  Until the other night, I had only kissed girls and maybe the occasional dry humping session but nothing underneath clothing. Against my better judgment, I let Chelsea jerk me off after we went to the movies. Since then, she thought she had some materialistic claim over me as though I was hers.

  “Are you for real?” I snapped and then realized how childish this all was. “I have to go.” I told her and walked away.

  When I got to the pit bleachers dad was sitting there with Justin and Shey Evans.

  “Girl problems?” he asked laughing.

  “Fuck you,” was my reply.

  Yes, I said “fuck you” to my dad. That’s how annoyed I was.

  I hated that I even had to deal with this shit in the first place. I pushed the thoughts aside when Clint, the chief steward for Skagit, rolled up on his 4-wheeler to began the drivers meeting. I focused on what was important, racing.

  He talked about procedures for the hot laps, time trials, heat races and then the feature events.

  I glanced across the track when he started in about cautions and what to do when the yellow came out, as if we didn’t know. I watched as the stands began to fill with spectators.

  The World of Outlaw series, being a premier division, drew in a hefty crowd. It wasn’t unusual to see at least five thousand fans at the track on nights like this.

  Looking over at my dad, he was hardly paying attention, having heard this a million times by now. Instead, he watched the water truck as it made continuous laps. The smells of the wet clay surrounded us mixing with sweet methanol.

  Justin was yawning. Shey was glaring at Bucky who took his last cigarette and I was irritable with my leg bouncing obsessively against the metal bleachers.

  I told myself I’d be getting away from Chelsea and her self-indulgent attitude as soon as possible but I wasn’t sure I could.

  She’s exactly why I found Sway’s company so refreshing. She never acted like that. Sure, she was my friend and had no claim as to who I kissed or flirted with but even if she did, Sway was above that, never juvenile. Chelsea was your typical high school girl.

  My thoughts were focused once I slid inside my car. I qualified ninth for the main so that wasn’t exactly positive but the track was exactly the way I liked it. After a few final adjustments, my car was perfect.

  “Do you want to set back the timing?” Tommy asked twirling a wrench in his hands prior to the main.

  I shook my head. “No...it doesn’t seem to be changing out there. Just leave it.”

  Usually if we thought the track was going to turn dry-slick, meaning the moisture had dried up, we would adjust the timing for less horsepower. If we had too much horsepower when the track changed that’s when these monsters start with the wheel stands.

  Sway, who I hadn’t seen since I handed her my credentials, threw a bottle of water my direction and then walked inside the hauler.

  “You need to sign the release form again before the feature. They can’t read your writing. You’re lining up behind Cody in the feature.”

  Visibly angry, I followed her.

  “You okay?” I asked leaning against a stack of tires propped against the wall.

  I watched her closely as she fumbled with a spare torsion bar lying on the counter. She was definitely angry but about what?

  “Chelsea?” I asked resignedly assuming they exchanged a few words. This wouldn’t be the first time.

  Sway nodded with her back still turned. “She’s just a bitch. Don’t worry about it.”

  I flipped out and punched the side of the hauler.

  It was one thing to beleaguer me. It was something else entirely to involve Sway. While anger clouded my judgment, I didn’t look at what I punched until it was too late. Instead of punching the plywood, my fist hit a metal beam.

  Naturally, this pissed me off even more and I did the only thing I knew to do being seventeen; I threw a childish fit and started throwing shit in an attempt to ease my frustration.

  It didn’t. It only made me appear like more of an ass along with destroying about five-thousand dollars in race car parts.

  Dad, visibly angry, caught me before I climbed in the car for the heat race. His face was a few shades lighter than his red racing suit.

  “Get your shit together asshole,” he went on furiously. “And you’re paying for everything you destroyed.” His eyebrow arched as his voice rose nearly to a shout. “Do you understand me?”

  “Whatever,” I replied. I was still fucking angry and didn’t care. I had a quick fuse and it didn’t cool off immediately.

  He slammed me against the car and my head knocked against the top wing. His hands fisted roughly in my driver’s suit before he pulled me closer.

  “You will show me respect, Jameson.” His usual bright blue eyes darkened as he glared. “I don’t care if you think you’re better than everyone out here...you may be but if you don’t get that smug fucking attitude of yours under control, it will all be gone before you know it!”

  I pushed back against him as pain shot up my wrist from my hand that had punched the wall. I knew it was broken but I refused to acknowledge it.

  Jimi pushed me back again. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but if you want this,” he motioned toward the track. “Stop acting like a goddamn child!”

  His hands dropped and he walked away without another glance.

  I knew he was right but then again, I was seventeen. Like most seventeen-year old males, I didn’t care what anyone thought.

  I was black flagged four times in a matter of six laps before I finally wrecked myself and Justin coming out of turn three when I tried to pass him four-wide.

  Justin was pissed and he had every right to be.

  When he came to my pit after we made it back to the pits, I just stood there. I had no excuse. It was my fault and I knew it.

  “You know,” his eyes met mine, hard and irate. “I take a lot from you out there Jameson. We’re friends,” Justin barked. “But that was bullshit and you know it!”

  “I know,” I dropped my head as Tommy and Sway approached us. They hung back trying to judge what Justin was about to do, his fists clenched at his sides.

  I wasn’t sure what he had planned. I was sure I could take him but seeing how it was Justin West, a kid I respected, I probably wouldn’t have put up a fight.

  Justin stepped closer, and for a moment, I thought he was about to punch me but then again, that wasn’t Justin’s style.

  “You’re talented Jameson, I’ll give you that.” His head nodded at the mess in the hauler from earlier. “But your temper will destroy everything you’ve worked for.”

  He turned sharply and walked away.

  Thankfully, he did because I was so pissed that I had ruined my chances of a good finish at a World of Outlaw event because of high school bullshit that I had taken it out on Justin, and that’s not at all what I wanted to do. Justin was my friend and these days I had very few.

  I sat there huddled in the corner of the hauler against the tires with my head buried in my hands for a good thirty minutes before Sway approached me when the feature was finished. She didn’t say anything, just sat down next to me.

  After a moment of silence, she sighed pushing her auburn locks away from her face and pulling her knees to her chest.

&nb
sp; “I fucked up,” I muttered watching her trace the outlines of a two-inch scar she had on her left knee from when she fell trying to escape from being chased by a bull the first summer we met.

  “Who doesn’t fuck up at one time or another? You just need to focus.” Sway said. “Too many distractions...you know?” her knees knocked against mine.

  “Yeah, I guess. What did Chelsea say to you?” I asked. I crossed my arms over my knees, resting my forehead against my forearms.

  “Nothing really...normal high school insecurity shit...the usual for her.”

  “Figures,”

  “Why do you even bother with her?”

  “I have no fucking clue.”

  I didn’t have a clue either. I didn’t love Chelsea. I hardly even liked her. There wasn’t a single redeeming quality about her but yet I found myself giving in to her. I began to comprehend I was comfortable with her for some reason. I knew she was using me but it seemed tolerable because I was doing the same thing. No one would get hurt because it meant nothing.

  Once we arrived home, my mom, who had stayed up, caught me before I made it into my room. Her face was the same shade as dad’s was earlier which confirmed my theory he told on me.

  “I will not have my son acting like a spoiled asshole all the time!” she said pushing me against the wall. I offered a grin down at her but that didn’t work. “Your dad told me what you did at the track.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Jameson...you need to pull your head out of your ass. Your dad is trying to help you. Judging by that hauler outside, you need help!” She poked my chest before walking down the hall and slamming her door shut.

  Dad strolled up the steps as I sat in the hallway. I had intended to go to my room but instead sat in the hallway.

  He didn’t say anything, just smirked, as he made his way past me to their room. It was late, at least two in the morning by now but mom always waited up for him when she knew he’d be home.

  I never paid real close attention to the relationship they had but I knew it was a good one. I’d never seen them fight at least. She’d tell him to shut the fuck up at times but they never all out argued, at least not in front of us kids.