by Amy Sparling
My heart seizes up when I find her again. She’s standing near the bleachers, drinking a diet soda, and talking to some guy. He looks about our age, with dark hair that’s cut short, and he’s wearing a Fox racing shirt but he’s clearly just here as a spectator tonight and he’s not racing. He’s smiling at her and she’s smiling back and whatever they’re talking about must be entertaining. Ugh.
White hot rage boils up in my chest, but I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at myself. I should have asked her out sooner. We’ve been hanging out every day and riding together and eating nachos for lunch together. I should have asked to take her out on a real date. I’ve had two weeks to do it. This is my fault, not his.
And then, like some kind of magic gift from the heavens, a girl with long black hair that hangs in two braids down her back walks up and links her hand into the guy’s hand. She joins in conversation with Bella and the guy and I realize that my shot isn’t over. They’re just friends. He has a girlfriend, who also happens to be friends with Bella. Awesome.
I’m back in the game.
I take one step toward her, fully planning on asking her out, and then two girls step in front of my path. They’re wearing Team FRZ Frame t-shirts and big smiles. “Oh my god,” one of them says, holding up her phone. My selfie Instagram photo is on the screen. “This was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I give her a sheepish smile. “What can I say? I’m trying.”
She leans forward and hugs me, as if we’re old friends and not strangers. “I’m really proud of you,” she says.
Her friend nods. “Me too. Can we get a photo?”
I force a friendly smile. “Of course.”
More fans line up, and I realize I should have posted my huge apology after the races when I was safely at home, because now everyone in the stands have seen my photo and they’re all talking about it. They all want photos with me, which I happily oblige because it’s expected of me now.
What’s better for my image than to be seen taking lots of pictures with fans? I hope Team FRZ Frame is watching.
By the time the night is wrapping up and I have some space to breathe, I can’t find Bella again. I walk back to our trucks, but hers is gone. I check the time and it’s just after midnight. I guess she went home. But I won’t let that derail my plans. I’m on a high of adrenaline from winning my race, and making so many fans happy tonight. What do I have to lose?
I pull out my phone and look up her number. We’d exchanged numbers the other day but we haven’t texted each other yet since I see her every day at the track and I’ve been a little nervous to make the first move.
But it’s time.
Me: Hey, sorry I missed you. You still awake?
Bella: Yep, just got home. Was getting too tired to drive so I didn’t want to stay longer. Good race tonight.
Her reply is so professional. I’m about to break down those walls with one carefully worded text. I bite my lip and type out the words, then I hit send.
Me: Will you go on a date with me?
It takes her three minutes to respond but I feels like an eternity.
Bella: Sorry… I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Chapter Eleven
What just happened?
And why did I reply like that?
I take a deep breath and realize I’m borderline hyperventilating right now. There’s only so many deep breaths I can take before I pass out, so I need to chill.
Liam just asked me out.
He. Asked. Me. out.
Am I imagining this?
I read over his words a thousand times before I typed my reply, and even as I did reply, I still worried I somehow read them wrong. Like, maybe he was asking if he could borrow a helmet and my weirdo brain accidentally assumed he was asking me out.
But it’s not a mistake. That’s what he said. The very first text this boy sends me and it’s a date request.
Holy. Crap.
I reluctantly tell him that I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not because I want to, but because that’s the truth.
I wasn’t even good enough for Ryan Hibberd, who is just a regular person like I am. How on earth could I be good enough for Liam Mosely who is freaking famous? It would only end badly.
It would only break my heart. And I’m smarter than that.
But it hurts all the same when I tell him it’s not a good idea. I sit here on my bed, and it’s almost midnight, and I’m staring at my phone, which is creating a glow in my otherwise dark bedroom. I don’t want him to reply, but I do want him to reply. I don’t know what I want.
He replies.
Liam: Fair point… I understand.
Well, that was… professional…
And here’s what’s stupid about my brain. Liam just asked me out. I told him no. He politely said okay. And yet, somehow I’m upset? I guess I wanted him to argue with me. To send another text or two asking me to reconsider. To fight for me.
But he didn’t.
That should be a good thing, but my feelings are hurt anyway. After the Ryan incident in Chemistry class, I just don’t know what to think. I was pretty sure no guy would ever like me, and now Liam does.
Or maybe not anymore.
I’m fully aware that I’m being a total weirdo right now, but I can’t help it. It’s my teenage brain, as Mom would say. It’s not my fault that I’m wired to feel so incredibly weird and to overthink every possible thing.
I close off of my text messages because I don’t want to look at Liam’s reply anymore. It’s too awkward… to… weird. Instead, I find myself opening Instagram on instinct, and then I see the most adorable selfie of Liam. He’s all sweaty and his hair looks cute as it hangs off to the side. Underneath it, he’s confessed that he’s going to change. He won’t be the man he’s been lately. He posted this photo only two hours ago and yet there’s already seven thousand likes and over five hundred comments. I think it’s for the best that I told him we shouldn’t go on a date.
I mean, what would I even do with a guy like that? He could get any girl he wants. He doesn’t need me.
My phone rings and it startles me so badly that I drop it on my bed. My pulse quickens when I see Liam’s name flashing across my screen. He’s calling me!
We were just texting so it would be rude not to answer. I slide my thumb across the screen, and the press the phone to my ear hoping that my nervousness can’t be heard in my voice.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” he says. It sounds like he’s smiling. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for asking you out. It was weird.”
“It’s… fine,” I say, wishing I had the guts to say everything on my mind. Wishing I could just take it all back and beg to go on a date with him.
“I like you,” he says. “You’re a cool chick. I like riding with you and teaching you stuff. It’s totally fine that we don’t date. I mean, I get it, one hundred percent. You’re right. It would be a bad idea.”
I feel like he’s just rambling hoping that he’ll talk himself out of how awkward this is.
I chuckle a little. “It’s fine, really. No big deal.”
“I wanted to make sure we’re still friends,” he says. “You’re my only friend here besides my two little stepbrothers and you’re a lot cooler than they are.”
“We’re still friends,” I say, unable to stop smiling.
“Cool. I guess I’ll let you get to sleep now.”
“Okay.”
I want to say no, keep talking! I want to tell him I’m way too awake now to call it a night. I want to say forget the right thing, let’s do the fun thing and date.
“See you tomorrow at the track?”
Ugh, Liam’s voice is so sexy I could die.
“Yeah,” I say, holding back all of those words I wish I could say instead.
“Great. Goodnight, Bella.”
I suck in a quick breath, not wanting this call to end. “Goodnight.”
As soon as I end the call, my phone l
ights up with a text from Kylie.
Kylie: You awake?
Me: Yeah
Kylie: Good, I’m at your front door.
I jump off my bed and race out into the living room, glancing down the hallway to make sure Mom’s asleep. Her bedroom light is off and her door is closed, so I guess she is.
I unlock and open the door. My best friend is standing on my porch wearing yoga pants and a tank top. Her eyes are red and her hair is a mess.
“I hate everything,” she says, as she collapses into tears.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper so my mom won’t wake up. I stand back and let her inside, then close the door softly behind her.
Kylie’s bottom lip quivers as she wipes tears off her cheek. “Trey broke up with me.”
“Oh, Kylie,” I say, wrapping her in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
I keep my arm around her as we walk to my bedroom, and then I close my door and turn to face my best friend. I hate that she’s so heartbroken. I hate that a guy like Trey did this to her. And even though I haven’t seen her in the last two weeks because she had ditched me for him, she’s still my best friend, and I’ll still be here for her no matter what. “Tell me everything.”
Chapter Twelve
Bella doesn’t come to the track for the next few days, and my worst fears are coming true. I screwed things up by asking her out when she doesn’t like me. I made the mistake of thinking that her friendship meant she might like me as much as I like her, and I was wrong.
And even though I tried asking if we can still be friends, it doesn’t matter. Things are awkward now. She’s avoiding the track—her favorite place in the world—because of me.
It’s race day again, and I’m here at the track later than usual. I didn’t show up for practice today because I couldn’t stand the thought of looking for her yet again and not finding her. She’s avoiding me. It’s plain and simple.
I decide that if she’s not at the races tonight, I’ll stop coming to the track. There’s no reason to ruin her entire summer. I don’t want to keep her away from her home track. This is her town, her track. I’m just an intruder.
As soon as I drive into the busy track, I see her truck parked by the oak tree. My heart leaps for joy. She’s here.
Now I need to make sure I don’t screw it up again. I park on the opposite side of the track, near the starting line. It sucks getting here so late because most of the racers are already here and they’ve taken the good parking spots. I have to squeeze in between two trucks and I know there’s no way to avoid people. As soon as I step out of my truck, the fans are on me.
I may have completely screwed up things with Bella, but at least I did one thing right this summer. My Instagram post was “shockingly honest and heartfelt” according to a motocross website that did a huge article on me the day after I posted that selfie. I’ve gained a lot of new followers and tons of positive press.
Sure, there’s still some people online who are saying it’s all just a farce, just a pathetic attempt to win my spot back on Team FRZ Frame, but most people seem to appreciate my new honesty and apology. And while I am trying to get back on the team, I also meant what I said.
I still haven’t heard from the team manager, though. They’re probably waiting to see how I spend the rest of my summer break and if I’ll stick to my word before they offer me a spot on the team again.
So I put on a smile as I unload my bike and answer questions for the older guys who have walked up to talk to me. It’s three brothers, who all look to be in their forties. One of them tells me I should start giving lessons at the track because he’d pay a lot of money to have me teach his son.
I nod politely and tell him I’ll think about it. But I know I won’t. The only time I’ve taught someone lessons was with Bella, and I’m not sure I can teach some kid the same thing without having flashbacks of all the fun times I had with her. Plus, I would get really bored really fast. It’s only fun teaching Bella because she’s amazing and I have a huge crush on her.
The night passes quickly when I’m swarmed by fans. It’s not long before it’s time to race, and I do a terrible job. It’s the worst I’ve ridden since I was a kid. For years I’ve heard people say you have to “be in the zone” when you’re racing, and it never made sense until right now. I’m always in the zone. I didn’t have to work at it-it just happened.
Until now.
I am so far out of the zone that it’s like I’ve forgotten how to ride. That same guy who got the holeshot last week came prepared and he’s racing his hardest, giving me a run for my money. It’s a struggle to keep first place and he passes me twice in two laps. The second time his bike flies around mine, I have a harder time catching up. We’re on the last lap and I’m gaining on him. Anger and embarrassment are making me ride harder.
And then we turn and the screaming fans on the bleachers catch my attention. I see her.
Bella is sitting on the bottom row, watching me. I know she can’t see my face under my helmet and goggles, but I swear it’s like she’s looking me right in the eyes. Right into my freaking soul. I falter, losing speed and focus as I watch her.
The checkered flag waves and I am in second place.
Second place.
At a stupid small-town track.
Failure is too weak of an adjective. I am worse than a failure. I’m worse than pathetic. I let a beautiful girl derail my focus and I lost the race.
I take a deep breath and drive off the track. It’s tempting to grab my stomach and pretend I’m sick or something so people will think that’s why I royally screwed up on the track. But that’s something the old me would do—lie to save face. The new me, the honest and friendly guy who deserves a professional racing career, is just going to suck it up and admit defeat. Even if it kills me.
I park my bike at my truck and grab a sports drink and wipe the sweat off my face with a towel.
When I turn around, I know I have fans lingering around, wanting to talk to me. I always have fans lingering around, wanting to talk to me.
But this time it’s Bella. She’s standing next to another girl, her friend with the short black hair. Bella gives me a sad smile.
“Hey,” she says. “You feeling okay?”
Better now, I think. I shrug. “I was off my game, I guess.”
“Ryan will brag about this night for the rest of his life,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You better beat him in the next moto.”
I grin. “Don’t worry. I will.” Now that she’s here talking to me, I already feel a thousand percent better.
“This is my best friend, Kylie,” Bella says. “I made her come to the races with me tonight.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, as I take off my gloves and shake her hand.
Kylie has dark circles under her eyes, but the top of her eyes are decorated with a glittery eye shadow. “Nice to meet you,” she says. “So tell me… how often do you break girl’s hearts?”
My eyes widen. I look at Bella for some help and she just rolls her eyes. “Kylie just got dumped,” Bella explains. “So now she’s in the ‘all men are evil’ stage of grief.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I tell her.
She shrugs. “I’ll get over it… I guess.” She loops her arm around Bella’s and then gives me a look from head to toe. “You’re right, Bells. He is cute. Do you have any other cute friends?”
“Uh,” I stutter, feeling my face flush. Bella told her friend she thinks I’m cute? I try to talk quickly so I don’t look like a fool. “I guess… but none of them live here.”
Kylie frowns. “Bummer.” Then she turns to her best friend. “I’m going to get some nachos. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll go with you,” Bella says.
“I’ll be right back,” Kylie says, emphasizing the last two words. She rushes away and leaves me standing here with Bella, and the half dozen people who are lingering around, waiting for their turn to talk to me.
“You wanna hang out in my tr
uck for minute?” I ask, lowering my voice. “Just to save me from talking to fans right now after my humiliating loss?”
She laughs and things almost feel normal between us again. “Sure.”
I start up my truck and crank the air conditioning. Bella smells like summer and citrus and I hope my truck still smells like her long after she leaves tonight. I lean my head against my headrest and stare up at my truck’s ceiling.
“This night sucked.”
“What happened out there?” she says. “You looked like something was wrong. You weren’t all lightning fast like usual.”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Is it because of…” She bites her bottom lip. e
Part of me wants to talk about this topic and part of me doesn’t. She trails off and I guess I’m relieved when she doesn’t mention it after all.
“I’m just off tonight. It’s no big deal. Plus, I think I’ve been training too hard lately. I should take a break or something.”
“I miss the track so much,” she says, leaning forward and adjusting the air vent. “This whole week has been a disaster.”
Wait… she wasn’t avoiding me all week? “What happened?” I ask.
She sighs. “Kylie’s heart is broken. It doesn’t matter that she totally ditched me for her boyfriend for weeks because now that she’s heartbroken she’s glued to my side. I didn’t get to come ride because I was taking care of her.”
“Ah…” I say, the relief evident in my voice. “I was wondering where you were.”
“I wasn’t avoiding you,” she says, flashing me that adorable smile of hers. “It’s just been a rough week.”
God I wish I had known this before the races tonight. I would have won easily without the weight of Bella’s rejection on my chest.
“You’re a good friend,” I say. “Hopefully you can start riding again soon.”
“I gave her a week and that’s all she gets,” Bella says with a laugh. “If she’s still sad tomorrow, that’s fine, but she’s going to have to come up here and hang out while I ride.”