by Amy Sparling
When it does, I don’t even think. I just pin the throttle and fly.
As we reach the first turn, there are bikes in front of me, but there are also bikes behind me. I’m not in last place. I’m holding my own. I am worth being out here on the track. I’m worth racing.
I go faster. I lean into the curves and stand over the jumps. I breathe, in and out, and I remember everything I’ve been taught. I don’t even have to think about it. Days of practicing with Liam have made these skills all instinctual.
I’m aware of passing bikes as I go, but I don’t keep count. I stare straight ahead at the bike in front of me until I pass it, then I aim for the next one.
Before I know it, all six laps are over. The checkered flag is waving across the finish line. I haven’t passed the bike in front of me but—I soar over the finish line tabletop jump and I have a clear view of the track in front of me. Holy crap!
I’m in second place!
Second place!
There are two extremely fast girls here tonight, and I beat one of them. As soon as I pull off the track, my brother is standing there, jumping up and down and clapping. He cups his hand to his mouth. “Go Bella!” he yells.
I’m smiling so hard my face hurts. I glance around, wishing that Liam was also standing here cheering for me. But he’s probably watching from a distance.
Even still… this is the best night ever.
Chapter Eighteen
She looks like a total pro out there. I’m grinning from ear to ear as I watch her completely dominate the track. She’s on that big bike that swallows her up, the same bike she was scared of when I first met her, and yet she’s killing it. Absolutely killing it. Morgan is still ahead of her, but Morgan is one of the top female racers in the country. Bella is completely holding her own out there. She’s amazing. I know this is all her, but I still feel a sense of pride as if she’s my protégé or something.
I’m watching her from the sidelines, and fate has somehow been kind enough to make sure all the fans are leaving me alone right now so I can get a good view of Bella’s rice. I see her bother standing down near the finish line. He’s watching her intently, looking just as nervous as the parents look when their little kids ride for the first time.
I walk over to him.
I know it’s stupid, but in the spirit of redemption and of being a better person –the person I promised to be on my Instagram—I suck it up and walk over to him.
“Hey, man,” I say, getting his attention. Brent used to be taller than me when we were kids. Now we’re the same height. He’s only two and a half years older than I am, and we’re peers now.
He just looks at me. That’s cool, I deserve that.
“I want to apologize,” I say. “For everything. I was a dumb kid and I screwed up and I’ll never forgive myself for doing that do you, or to our friendship.” Brent just stares at me. No one ever said redemption was easy, I guess. I clear my throat. “I hope you can forgive me someday.”
Then I turn and walk away. I watch Bella take second place in her first ever race, and I am so proud and excited for her. I bet she’s freaking out. I watch her ride up to her brother at the finish line and he hugs her. Then he hops on the back of her bike and she rides them back to their truck.
Now that I’m no longer racing tonight, I think I’ll head out. Leaving after the first moto means I’ll miss Bella’s second race, but I’m not sure I can stay here any longer. My apology to Brent didn’t go nearly the way I hoped it would, and even though I’m crazy about Bella, I know it’s pointless. I can’t date her. I should just go.
I turn to walk back to my truck and I run into a familiar face. It’s Clay Summers, a racer on Team Loco. We’re not exactly friends, but we do follow each other on social media and have raced together a few times when we were younger.
“Clay?” I say. “What’s going on, man?”
“We came to see you ride,” he says, shaking my hand. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“Long story,” I say with a sigh.
The man next to him is in his forties, with the dyed blonde hair of a much younger man. “Marcus,” he says, stepping forward and shaking my hand. “Nice to meet you in person.”
“Marcus, hi,” I say, shaking his hand. Crap. “I hope you didn’t come out here to watch me,” I say, feeling like a total fool. “I’m not racing tonight.”
“That’s a shame, but no worries. We’re here on business,” Marcus says.
“And we did want to see you race, but whatever,” Clay says.
“Man, I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I, uh, had some bike problems.” It’s a lie, but it’s a little better than telling the manager of Team Loco the truth.
“We’re thinking of making Roca Springs a race stop on the professional circuit next year,” Marcus says. “We came to check it out.”
“That would be awesome,” I say, not because I care about this tiny town, but because I care about the girl who lives here.
“You give any more thought to joining us?” Marcus asks, his voice a little lower as if we’re sharing a private secret.
“Yes, sir,” I say, feeling that knot rise up in my chest. I want to turn him down so I can stay here with Bella, but that’s not an option. “I’d love to join Team Loco.”
“Alright,” Marcus says, clapping me on the back. “We’re excited to have you!”
“I’m guessing this means I have to teach you how to be good,” Clay says, rolling his eyes. “You have no idea how many lectures Avery has put me through.”
“Avery?” I say.
“Team Loco associate,” Marcus says. “And she’s also this idiot’s girlfriend. She’s in charge of making sure my racers behave themselves.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I say with full confidence. “My trouble-making days are over. I assure you.”
“That’s good to hear,” Marcus says. “I have to go speak with the owner but we’ll talk soon, okay?”
I thank him and Marcus and Clay walk off. Any minute now, the spectators will realize another famous motocross racer is here and they’ll freak out. Poor Clay is going to have to sign some autographs tonight.
It feels weird admitting this, but it feels like I’m walking on air as I make my way through the crowds and toward my truck. My heart is still aching from Bella, the girl of my dreams that I can never actually have, but something good has come from the last few weeks. I got the attention of Team Loco. I got an offer. It’s probationary, but it’s an offer. I’ll get to race professionally next season and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my spot on the team and prove my worth. It sucks that I didn’t get the girl. But at least I got something. I wish I could tell her about Team Loco. I wish I could congratulate her on taking second place tonight. Maybe a congratulatory text will just have to do.
I catch the scent of coconut shampoo in the air, and I look up and see her. Bella is sitting on my tailgate, two bottles of Gatorade in her hand. Lemon-lime, the best flavor.
“Want a drink?” she says, tossing one to me.
I catch it and smile at her. “What are you doing here? Brent will most definitely kill us if he sees you here.”
She waves a hand through the air, dismissing my concerns. Her hair is all frizzy and pulled back in a ponytail. There’s sweat on her brow, and little bits of dirt on her forehead. She’s still fully suited up in her riding gear, her boots barely touching the ground while she sits there. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
“I put my brother in his place,” she says. “He won’t be bothering us anymore.”
“Oh?” I say, wondering if that’s too good to be true. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” I say.
“Things could never work out between us,” she says with a soft nod.
“Nope.” I heave a sigh. “That’s why we’re just friends.”
“Just friends,” she says. “But I did come here for a reason.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
She takes a
long sip of Gatorade and then twists the orange cap back on. “You lost the bet. Now it’s time to pay up.”
A rush of desire floods through my body. I take a step closer, closing the distance between me and her while she sits on the back of my truck. My fingers slide up the top of her thighs, over the plastic logos of her riding pants. She puts both hands on my shoulders and tips her face up to mine.
“Absolutely nothing can come of this,” she says, peering up into my eyes.
“Of course not,” I agree.
And then we kiss.
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About the Author
Amy Sparling is the bestselling author of books for teens and the teens at heart. She lives on the coast of Texas with her family, her spoiled rotten pets, and a huge pile of books. She graduated with a degree in English and has worked at a bookstore, coffee shop, and a fashion boutique. Her fashion skills aren't the best, but luckily she turned her love of coffee and books into a writing career that means she can work in her pajamas. Her favorite things are coffee, book boyfriends, and Netflix binges.
She's always loved reading books from R. L. Stine's Fear Street series, to The Baby Sitter's Club series by Ann, Martin, and of course, Twilight. She started writing her own books in 2010 and now publishes several books a year. Amy loves getting messages from her readers and responds to every single one! Connect with her on one of the links below.
Connect with Amy online!
Website: AmySparling.com
Twitter: @Amy_Sparling
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