by Amy Sparling
She’s been right about one thing though—high school has entirely too much drama. I’m so glad we’re almost officially done with it.
I crank the stereo in my truck and make the drive north to the university. I’ve been here before for football games, and for when Mom graduated college, but never as a potential student. It all seems a little scarier now that I’m alone. Of course, I’ll never admit that. Not even to Keanna.
I follow the signs and find the Humanities building, and then make it to Mr. Walker’s office. He’s a younger guy than I expected, probably in his mid-thirties.
“Welcome,” he says, shaking my hand. He gestures to one of the chairs in front of his desk and we sit. “So tell me why you want to be homeschooled?”
“I’m a motocross racer and I just got an important internship on a professional racing team,” I say, trying not to sound too braggy but also trying to let him know this is important. “If I’m homeschooled then I can concentrate more on my career and hopefully go pro in a year or two.”
“Impressive,” he says, nodding. “Most kids come in here and say they’re too lazy to get up in the morning, or some other crap. You actually have a good reason. How are your grades now?”
“A’s and B’s,” I answer honestly. “I’m in advanced classes as well.”
His eyebrows shoot up. What, does he think a dirt bike racer can’t also be smart? “Sounds like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Mr. Adams. I’ll be happy to be your homeschooling professor.”
Relief hits me and I’m floating on cloud nine for the rest of the meeting. He gives me a ton of paperwork, shows me how to log into the online learning center, and tells me his expectations of the classwork. Although I’ll have other teachers for certain subjects, he’s the main professor who will determine if I pass or not. He’s a progressive kind of guy and doesn’t require too much busy work. If I understand the lesson, then that’s all he needs. Awesome.
He shakes my hand again and walks me to the door. The only process left is for my parents to pay the fee and to get all the textbooks I’ll need.
Mr. Walker suggests that I spend some time walking around campus to get oriented. “I may or may not get a bonus for the amount of students I refer to apply to the college their freshman year,” he says, giving me a wink.
“Thanks,” I say with a chuckle. “I’ll definitely check it out.”
I head toward the cafeteria to grab something to eat before going back home. The moment I step in line, two girls walk up to me. They’re in short shorts and tank tops and don’t look like they’re actually taking classes, although their backpacks would suggest otherwise. Can you really dress like this in college?
“Hi there,” one of them says. She’s almost as tall as I am and looks like she lifts weights. “I’m a big fan.”
“Me too,” her friend says. This girl is shorter but still looks pretty athletic. I don’t think they ride bikes though, or I would recognize them from the local motocross scene.
“Thanks,” I stay, looking back up at the food menu. I already know I want a cheeseburger, but they don’t know that.
“I didn’t know you go to school here,” the first one says. “I’m Belia, by the way, and this is Sara.”
“I don’t go here yet,” I say. “But I’m about to start their homeschooling program to get done with high school.”
“Oh my God, you’re still in high school?” Belia says, putting a hand to her chest. “That is so freaking adorable.”
“Um okay,” I say, furrowing my eyebrows.
Sara scoffs at her friend. “Dude, she should know that. We both follow your Instagram,” she says to me. She bats her eyelashes and I hold back a groan. Why does this always happen to me? Why can’t girls simply say hi when they recognize me and then move on?
“So, you want to come to a party tonight? I can get you all the beer you’d like.”
I take a step forward in the line, wishing the three people ahead of me would hurry the hell up so I can get out of here. “No thanks. I’m busy tonight . . . celebrating with my girlfriend.”
“How old is she?” Belia asks.
“Why would that matter?” I say.
Belia smiles. “Can she buy you beer? Because I can.”
“Are you really trying to put down my girlfriend based on her age?” I ask. I put my wallet back in my pocket, planning to leave and get out of dealing with these idiots.
They must see the disgust on my face because Sara gives Belia a look. “We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to insult your girlfriend. She can totally come to the party, too.”
“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass.”
Sara bites her bottom lip. “Do you think maybe you’d take a selfie with us?”
I draw in a deep breath. “Sure.”
The girls flock to my sides and Sara holds up her phone. I give a polite smile because this will be all over the internet and I don’t want to look like a dick.
As soon as it’s done, I get the cheeseburger and eat it on the way to my truck. Keanna calls.
“Hey, beautiful.”
She snorts. “Why do you always answer the phone like that?”
“Because I know it makes you smile.”
“Whatever . . . so yeah, I was calling to tell you something.”
I unlock my truck and climb inside. “And that is?”
“I am an official graduate!” I can hear the smile in her voice.
“Awesome, babe. I’m proud of you. We’ll definitely have to celebrate tonight.”
“Eh, it’s no big deal,” she says. “I’m just happy it’s over.”
She can say it’s no big deal all she wants, but we’ll see if she’s thinking differently when she gets those flowers tonight. I grin. “Can’t wait to see you.”
“Same here. I need to know all about your fancy college experience.”
Chapter 5
The most beautiful bouquet of flowers graces my vanity, filling the air with a delightful fragrance of roses while I get ready. We’re all going out to dinner tonight to celebrate me graduating and Jett’s transfer into homeschooling. In my old life, I would have thought having a fancy dinner with Dawn and a boyfriend’s parents would have been lame and awkward. But now these people are my favorite people on earth. Jett’s parents and my new parents aren’t at all like normal parents. They’re young and hardworking people who don’t judge others and are always pleasant to be around. I wonder how much better of a person I’d be if I had been raised by Becca and Park.
I ponder the effects of some alternate reality where Becca could have children and I was her real daughter while I apply my eye makeup in front of my vanity mirror.
Tonight I’m wearing a black dress with a lace overlay that has silver sparkly sequins all over it. The sleeves come down to my elbows but the skirt stops mid-thigh so it’s still sexy. I’m keeping my hair down and just straightening it so it’s sleek and simple.
My parents get a ride with Jett’s parents and since we can’t all fit into anyone’s single car, I’m going to ride with Jett. Like I said, our parents are awesome to be around, but I still like having private moments with my boyfriend.
Jett meets me in the driveway. My parents have already walked over to the Adams’ house so we’re all alone.
“Damn,” he says, scratching his neck. “You look hot.”
Jett’s wearing crisp dark jeans, black leather shoes and a gray long-sleeved button up shirt. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms, showing the sexy muscles and veins that pop out when he flexes.
“You look hotter,” I say, walking up to him until our bodies are touching. He lets his hands roam down my back and to my butt.
“Maybe we should skip dinner and lock ourselves in my room instead.” His voice is deep, almost a growl.
I slide my finger down the buttons on his shirt. “As much as I’d love that, this dinner is specifically to celebrate us.”
“Okay, but you’re mine as soon as we’re home.”
&
nbsp; I look up into his eyes. “Deal.”
#
It’s still early December, but you’d think Christmas is tomorrow by the way this town decorates. I’m in awe as we drive back home in Jett’s truck, the lights and decorations a beautiful backdrop to our wonderful dinner.
“I’ll have to take you to the fancy neighborhoods,” Jett says, reaching over and grabbing my knee while he drives. “They take decorating their houses very seriously.”
“Awesome.” I smile and put my hand on top of his.
Slowly, he wriggles his fingers under the lacy hem of my dress, and lets his hand slide up my thigh. His warmth is always a welcome touch and I try to keep a straight face as his fingers go higher and higher. When he reaches my panties, he turns his hand down and slides it between my legs, then squeezes my thigh.
All while driving.
I gasp and grit my teeth. “Such a tease,” I mutter, trying to regain control of my body. Warmth spreads out in all direction from his touch.
He grins, keeping his focus on the road. “Just paying you back for all that teasing you do to me every day.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I do not tease you every day.”
He nods. “Mhm. Just by being around me, wearing that cute grin and smelling like a damn angel.”
“You’re a charmer, you know that?”
He lifts a shoulder. “You bring it out in me.”
When we get home, my parents have already gone back home and are getting ready for bed. Jett’s parents tell us they plan on watching a movie and we politely decline their offer to watch it with them.
Jett laces his fingers into mine as we walk up the stairs and toward his bedroom.
“You know, when it was summer I was dying for the heat to go away, and now that’s it’s getting colder each day, I wish it was still summer.”
He snorts. “Yeah, for as hot as it is in Texas, it also gets pretty cold.”
I shiver and press into him. “I wish we had a sauna or something.”
He stops just inside his bedroom door. “Well . . . we do have a hot tub.”
My eyes narrow. “Could we use it?”
He gives me this cocky grin. “Of course.”
In the cold night air, I shiver as I pull off my clothes, revealing the yellow and green bikini I keep in Jett’s pool house. “This better be hot,” I say, as I walk over to the bubbling hot tub at the edge of their pool. The lights inside are turned on, LED bulbs that switch colors every few seconds.
Jett pulls off his shirt and tosses it over the back of a patio chair, the same one with my discarded clothes. He’s wearing black board shorts and I can’t help but watch his abs in the moonlight. He walks over to me and takes my hand. “In you go, hot stuff.”
I’m shivering from the cold so badly that I don’t mind stepping down into the hot tub. The warmth is an immediate welcome to fight off the cold. I sink into the bench seats against the wall and close my eyes.
“Oh my God, this is heaven.”
“Not quite,” Jett says, sitting next to me. He takes the waterproof remote and flips on one of the televisions that are mounted from the patio’s ceiling. He turns the channel until it’s on a music station and then slides his arm around my back. I’m lifted into the water and he settles me on his lap, my back pressed against his chest.
“Ah, this is better,” he whispers in my ear. His hands slide around my waist and hold my hips in place in his lap while the jet streams fill the water with bubbles. Steam rises, giving the moonlit air a nice glow.
I lean back and let my head rest against his shoulder. “You never answered the main question at dinner,” I say, remembering the biggest problem in my life right now.
“What’s that?”
I slide my hands on top of his. “What do you want for your birthday?”
His shoulders shrug beneath me and his kisses my neck, doing a damn good job of distracting me. “I don’t need anything, babe. His hands slide up my sides, cupping just underneath my bikini top. “I already have everything I want.”
I gasp for a breath to steady myself. “Okay then what do you want for Christmas?”
He chuckles, kissing my neck again. “Just you.”
“You already have me,” I say, twisting around to kiss him. “I need present ideas . . . things that aren’t me. I don’t count.”
His biceps flex and lifts me up again, this time turning me around to face him. I’m practically weightless in the water but it’s hot anyway. I grab his shoulders and pull myself on top of his lap.
“Key, I really don’t care about presents. I have everything I could ever want—there’s a dirt bike track in my back yard and my girlfriend lives next door.” His head tilts to the side, his hair all steamy and flattening on his forehead. “My life is literally perfect.”
I frown and try not to show how much I love when he grabs my hips and pulls me into him. My boobs press against his chest and I bite my lip, trying to stay focused. “You’re getting a birthday and Christmas present from me, whether you like it or not.” I press my forehead to his. “It’s not fair that your birthday is on Christmas Eve.”
He chuckles and kisses me, pulling my bottom lip into his teeth. His thumbs slip under the strap of my bikini bottoms and if I weren’t afraid of his parents possibly walking out here, I’d rip them off.
“It is a little unfair, I guess. My parents used to let me have a birthday party in the summer to make up for it. But now I’m older and I don’t really care.”
I reach down and slide my hand over his erection. This time his eyes close, his head falling back to rest on the edge of the hot tub. I lean forward and kiss his neck, then I drag my tongue up the side of his ear. “I’m getting you two awesome presents this year,” I whisper. “I don’t care if you don’t want anything.”
Chapter 6
Sweat drips down my eyebrow in defiance of the chilly mid-December air. Two hours on a dirt bike, covered in fifty kinds of protective gear will do that do you. My bike rumbles underneath me, the performance racing engine begging to take off.
Team Loco gave me this bike and it’s a crazy upgrade from my old racing bike, which was already a pretty fast ride. This new bike does not like idling on the starting line. It wants to haul ass, leaving nothing but upturned dirt in its wake.
It’s probably close to noon by now, but we’re not stopping any time soon. My first Team Loco race is at Oakcreek Motocross Park this weekend and I need to do good by their name. I need to race hard and fast and prove to them why they chose me out of hundreds of other fast guys in the nation.
And because of this, Dad is making me train my ass off.
“No pressure, son,” Dad says, slapping the back of my helmet as he stands next to me at the starting gate on our track. “But you need to shave a few seconds off your holeshot.”
“Yeah, no pressure at all,” I mutter, but he can’t hear it beneath the roar of my bike.
The holeshot is what we call the first position after the gate drops. In motocross, all the racers line up at the starting gate and as soon as the metal bar drops, you take off, pinning the throttle as fast as you can go. The first racer around the first turn has a huge advantage in winning the race, since there’s almost always a crash of multiple bikes at that first turn. If you’re not fast enough to be first, then you’re right in the middle and more likely to crash into a massive bike orgy. Not cool.
So I line back up, wait for Dad to drop the gate, and I pin it.
Then I line back up again, and do it all over again until Dad’s stopwatch says something that satisfies him.
“I still think you could do better,” Dad says half an hour later. “If you get the holeshot, the rest of the race is easy.”
I pull off my helmet. “You wanna try going faster than me, old man?”
He laughs. “Don’t tell me the pressure is getting to you?”
I shrug. “I’d just like to see you handle this bike and do better than I’m doing. It’s a hell of a
lot harder to control something that’s so damn fast.”
“It can’t be that much faster than your last bike,” Dad says, stepping back and studying the engine as if that’ll tell him what’s inside of it. “I had Jake bore out your last one so it’s pretty damn fast.”
Jake is the best engine and suspension guy in the nation. He also happens to be one of my dad’s good friends. I hop off the bike and hold the handlebar, angling it toward him.
“Give it a go if you don’t believe me.”
Dad smirks and takes my helmet, pulling it over his head.
He hands me the stopwatch, which is stopped at seventeen seconds. He climbs on the bike and revs the engine. “Get a good look at that number,” he says, grinning beneath the helmet. “’Cause I’ll beat it.”
I roll my eyes and walk over to the lever that pulls the gate up and down. Dad rides my bike over to a starting line and nods.
I wait a few seconds just so he’s stuck in anticipation and then I restart the stopwatch and drop the gate at the same time.
Fifteen and a half seconds fly by and Dad’s at the end of the line. Son of a bitch.
I’m shaking my head when he rides back up, slamming on the front tire brake right before hitting me. He holds out his hand and I give him the stopwatch. He just grins and hands it back to me.
“I guess there’s still a few more lessons you can learn from this old man,” he says, pulling off my helmet and handing it back.
#
When our riding session is over and every muscle in my body aches, I shower until the water runs cold. It’s only two more weeks until Christmas and I know Keanna and Becca are probably still out Christmas shopping, so I take my time.
I head downstairs to get a snack and Mom corners me, hands on her hips. Her belly seems to have gotten twice the size overnight, or maybe it’s because she’s wearing one of Dad’s shirts and it swallows her up.
“Did I do something?” I ask, holding up my hands in surrender.