“You don’t want to be friends again, do you?”
I shook my head. “No, Lys. I really don’t.”
Her expression fell, and a tear slipped from her eyes.
“I don’t because I want more than that. I want what we had before Darcy pulled that stupid stunt and we let her get between us.” I took her hands in mine and guided them to my chest so she could feel the way my heart raced when I was near her. “I want you, Alyssa. Not as a friend, but as more. You are always going to be more to me.”
“Just promise you won’t hurt me, Dec.”
Even though I could have taken the chance to remind her that she’d been the one to do the hurting, that she’d been the one who’d decided not to be with me because of a stupid argument, I didn’t. It might have broken whatever magic spell was guiding her back into my arms.
“I promise. I’ll never be an idiot again.” I grabbed her around the waist and swept her up to claim her lips.
CHAPTER SIX: THE END OF THE RACE
WE HAD TWO perfect weeks of school holidays, where Alyssa and I could just be alone together. It ended too soon.
Within a month, as the cold set in around us, we’d broken up again. I’d refused to talk to her after she’d gone to the movies with Blake and the blonde brigade, and hadn’t invited me along. By August, we’d found our way together again. Even when September melded into October, we’d repeated our same destructive pattern. We’d only just gotten back together, when the most important race of the ProV8 series threatened to derail us once more.
Bathurst. An eight-hour trial by fire of the premium drivers in their million-dollar cars. I’d never missed watching a single one. Ever.
It was only half an hour before the big race was due to start, and I was still running around like a blue-arsed fly. Usually, Ben would have been at my house by then. We'd have already had eight hours’ worth of snacks and drinks set up at the ready so we would only have to move from our seats for piss-breaks. It was the way we’d spent the Bathurst race every year, but this year he was being a pussy and spending the day with Jade. I was just glad that Alyssa understood that this was one race I couldn't miss.
Placing the esky on the table, filled with ice and drinks, I took a moment to breathe and assess my temporary man cave. It was perfection; a junk food heaven. Usually I tried to be mindful of what I ate, but Bathurst was the one day I indulged. My logic was that in a few years, when I was the one on the track, I'd be able to remember the influx of calories to get me through. Maybe it wasn't very logical really, but it gave me an excuse to have a guilt-free day of freedom.
I'd just settled into the spot on the couch which would house me for the next eight hours when there was a knock on the door. The cars were already out on the grid, and there was no way I was getting up again, so I called out for Mum. It was unnecessary in the end because she was already on her way to the door.
“Heaven forbid you miss a single minute of the race,” she said as she walked behind me.
“I'm glad you understand,” I said, making her laugh.
I turned my attention back to the TV as she greeted whoever it was that should have been parked at home watching the sacred race.
“I didn't expect to see you here today,” I heard her say. The statement was enough to pique my curiosity and I listened more intently. “I thought you had plans.”
My mouth lifted into a grin. I should have known Ben wouldn't back out of our man-date, not for Bathurst.
“So, did you demand Jade give your balls—” I turned away from the TV to greet him properly, but met Alyssa's unimpressed gaze instead. “Oh, shit, sorry, Lys.” I turned back toward the TV, but slid over to give her some room beside me. “What are you doing here?”
“Nice, Dec. I thought I'd come see what all the fuss is considering I knew you'd be here alone, but if it's going to be easier for you, I'll just go.”
I was torn. On one hand, it was the first time—ever—that she'd shown any interest in cars or watching a ProV8 race, but on the other, I didn't want to spend my day explaining the rules, the teams, the cars, and every other little detail that she could ask about. Not for Bathurst--the sort of race which could be won or lost at any second. There were rumours flying that it would be my idol, Sinclair Racing's Dane Kent's, last Bathurst ever, and I didn't want to miss a minute of the action. With him and the team’s newest driver, Morgan McGuire, behind the wheel, they were promising to be the team to beat.
“No, Alyssa, please don't go, I really, really want you to stay,” Alyssa said in a half-mocking tone, pulling me from my thoughts.
Her words could have easily pulled a foul mood from me, and on most days might have, but it was Bathurst, so not much could faze me. “See, I didn't need to say anything because you read my mind.” I laughed and held my arm out to invite her to sit beside me.
She nestled under my arm, before looking over the spread I’d laid out for myself.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much junk food in one place outside of a supermarket,” she teased.
“It’s an eight hour race, baby.” I grinned. “Gotta keep up my stamina somehow.”
“Eight hours?”
“Well, the race itself is a little less than that, but with the start and the podium, it’s about that long.”
“Eight hours of watching the same cars go around the same track?”
I rolled my eyes. Here we go. “Yeah, it’s an endurance race. The point is to stick it out to the end, it becomes about the asset management and pit crews as much as the drivers. It’s racing at its finest.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Do you really have to watch the whole race then?”
I pulled away from her to check if she was being serious. “Of course, it can change in the blink of an eye.” If you don’t wanna watch it, there’s the door. I bit back on the words because we’d been broken up until so damn recently that I was willing to give a little to be with her. Still, some of her comments made it pretty hard.
“So—”
Holding my hand up, I silenced her. “The race is starting.” I sat forward, anxious to see whether Kent could get a good jump off the line.
“So—” she started again.
I spun to cast her a quick warning glare. The start of the race was vital, with everyone jostling to be the first off the line. Although the first corner wasn’t vital like it was for shorter races at other tracks, it was easily the most exciting corner. With the exception of the last. She held up her hands in surrender and pretended to lock her lips as she rolled her eyes.
My breath was caught tight in my chest as I watched, ready for the jump. It was too easy to imagine what it must be like for the drivers. The excitement; the thrill of the chase; the noise and feel of the car rumbling beneath them. I’d experienced that in karting, and more recently in the VK, but I was sure it was barely one-tenth of the thrill of handling one of those beasts. When the green flag went up, I perched forward in my seat, willing Kent’s car to go.
He lurched off the line from pole position and surged forward. The Ford driver, Hunter Blake, bit his heels, but Kent arrived first and made it through clean. Positions four and five hit the corner at the same time and touched door handles, but kept control over their cars. With relief that Sinclair had such a good start, I sagged back into the couch, ready to relax into an awesome day of petrol-head fun.
“That’s it?” Alyssa asked.
“What do you mean?”
“That’s what I needed to be quiet for?”
“Yeah. I needed to concentrate.”
She laughed. “You know you’re not driving the car, right? You have zero control over anything that is happening.”
“One day I will though.”
With a roll of her eyes, she turned away.
“I will, Lys, just you watch me.”
She offered me an indulgent smile. “I know that’s the dream.”
Ignoring the race, I turned to her. “No, it’s not.”
“Huh?” she asked, teasing her fingers through my hair.
“You say, ‘the dream’ like it’s something that won’t happen. This will happen.”
“You’ve still got another year of school left though.”
“Yeah?”
“You might change your mind by then.”
It was my turn to offer an indulgent smile. Sometimes, it was like she didn’t know me at all. Deciding it wasn’t worth the argument, I settled into the seat and invited her to snuggle into me.
The silence lasted three laps, and then Alyssa started to ask about my plans for Christmas, for a double-date with Ben and Jade, and for a whole heap of other things that I didn’t really care about while the cars were on the track. “Lys, can you at least wait for the ads?”
She gave me a look of innocent confusion.
“I’m trying to watch the race.”
She rolled her eyes, but stopped talking and shifted so that she was lying on the couch with her head in my lap. I smiled when she rolled over to watch the TV, seemingly interested in the race.
Then she yawned and rolled back over to glance up at me. “Can’t we go for a walk or something?”
“I’m watching the race.” I was certain I’d failed to keep the irritation out of my voice.
“But there’s hours to go, right?” She reached up and stroked my face before tickling her fingers over the skin of my neck. “Can‘t we go for a walk and come back closer to the end of the race?”
“But then I’d miss the race.”
“Not the end. That’s the important bit isn’t it?”
“I don’t think you understand how it works.”
She sat up and pressed her lips to mine. “C’mon, let’s go do something.”
I pushed her away gently. “Lys, please.”
She huffed and sat on the opposite end of the couch. When I was certain she wasn’t looking, I rolled my eyes. It was exactly the reason why I hadn’t invited her over. It was impossible for her to understand how important every single lap was. There were so many different things that could shape the race in an instant: someone pitting early—or late, a safety car, the weather, overtaking, or even brake failure. At any stage, a driver could make a critical error. If I left, and then came back for the last fifteen minutes, I’d have to spend that whole time scrambling to figure out who was where and what had happened.
Without words, I stood and headed for my bedroom. When I passed the door to Mum and Dad’s room, Mum looked up from her book and gave me a questioning look. I just shook my head to tell her not to ask.
After grabbing my laptop from the dresser, I turned around and headed straight back to Alyssa. I tossed the computer onto the couch beside her.
She glanced down at the laptop. “What’s this for?”
I shrugged. “Just watch a movie or something.”
“So I came over to spend time with you, and you want me to watch a movie instead?”
“You obviously don’t want to watch Bathurst. I’m trying to be thoughtful.”
“Fine.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine” rarely meant anything good when it came to Alyssa, but she’d opened the laptop, and I wasn’t going to push my luck or it would cause more issues.
Settling back in to enjoy the race—paying extra attention during the next lap to ensure I hadn’t missed anything important—I leaned against the couch. A few minutes later, I heard Alyssa sniffle. For a second, I closed my eyes and wondered just how bad it would be if I just ignored her for a while. Maybe she was just watching something sad.
Releasing my breath, and opening my eyes, I gave a quick sideways glance at her. The computer screen was off—she wasn’t watching anything. I frowned and gave in to the guilt.
“Lys, I’m sorry, but you know how important this race is to me.”
She nodded, but sniffed again. Then a fat tear rolled down her cheek. “I just wanted to spend some time with you. I’m sorry that I don’t like the same things you do.”
I swiped her cheek with my thumb. “Don’t cry. Please?”
“Do you want me to go?” Her lip quivered as she asked the question and I wanted to kiss away her pain.
Turning toward her, and ignoring the TV, I took her hands in mine. “You’re here now. Rather than just piss each other off, can’t we spend the time together doing different things?”
She frowned and then nodded. Within minutes, she was resting her head in my lap again with the laptop open watching something—I didn’t really pay attention to what. All that mattered was that I had the ProV8 series on TV, my girl beside me, and I’d narrowly avoided yet another damn catastrophe in our relationship.
THE DAYS grew hotter, and November came again. The first of the month signalled the run to the end of the school year, and the lead-up to the anniversary of our first kiss. Our relationship was still as turbulent as ever though. It was easy to blame everything else—everyone else—but it was us too. Sometimes Alyssa’s moods seemed to shift without warning and she’d grow sullen and impossible to talk to.
Sometimes it was me who caused the issue. Some days it was difficult to stop the vicious words that left my mouth before I’d really thought about them—or their possible implications—all the way through.
Our life kept running the same vicious cycle. We’d date for a few weeks, maybe a month, and then be off again for a while. It was fucked up. We were hurting each other more than anyone or anything else ever could. It was worth it all though, because we also healed each other in ways no one else ever could.
Between racing, Josh’s football games, and my being dragged to conferences at beachside locations with Dad’s work, Alyssa and I spent more weekends apart than we did together. It sucked, but it made the desire to be near each other that much stronger during the week—when we were actually together at least. Of course, having so little time alone made us more inclined to wag school to catch up.
Alyssa was standing in front of our homeroom. She was looking for me, but hadn’t spotted me yet, so I crept up behind her and grabbed her hand. Startled, she turned to look at me. I pressed my finger to my lips and pulled her along behind me. I’d been away from town for the weekend, yet another boring banking conference in Noosa that Dad had dragged Mum and me to, so I really needed my fill of Alyssa time. I knew that conversations between classes just wouldn’t cut it, so I’d decided to wag and didn’t give her much of an option. She knew my decision as soon as I dragged her in the direction of our park. If she had a problem with my idea, she never voiced it.
As soon as we were far enough from the school, I pulled out my mobile phone and dialled the office.
“Hello, this is Curtis Dawson. I’m calling to let you know that Alyssa won’t be in school today. Unfortunately she’s not feeling very well.”
It was easy to convince the office staff of my story; it was all about having the right amount of confidence in my voice to bullshit my way though. Once I’d hung up, Alyssa and I burst out laughing. We were free for the day, and couldn’t have been happier. I couldn’t speak for her, but I’d missed the fuck out of her while we were apart and longed for some time together, just the two of us. While we walked the short distance to the park, we chatted and laughed. It was just like old times.
“Who called in for you?” she asked.
“Josh. I caught up with him just before we left.”
Alyssa stepped in front of me and walked backward. “Tsk, tsk, letting his little sister wag school with strange boys. He’s supposed to watch out for me.”
“Strange boys?” I grabbed her waist, lifted her up, and spun her around. “I’m offended.”
“Sorry.” She smirked and there wasn’t an ounce of apology in her voice.
“I mean, I’m sixteen, I’d say I’ve developed into a man by now. Wouldn’t you say?”
She laughed. “But I’m right about the strange?”
“Baby, do you know anyone stranger?”
She shook her head. “You know that’s what at
tracts me.”
I grinned at her before reaching forward to brush her ponytail off her throat. It was really just an excuse to touch her.
“So, what’s this in aid of anyway?” She indicated our park.
“Does a boy really need a reason to wag with his girl?”
She raised her eyebrow at me.
“Fine. I just really missed you this weekend.”
“So you didn’t find any easy beach babes willing to give it up as soon as they looked at you?”
“Oh yeah, loads and loads, but I bored the shit out of them all by telling them about this fantastic girl I had at home.”
“And what would that fantastic girl think about this?” She waved her hand between us and winked.
“Oh, she’d be insanely jealous. She’s the real jealous type you know.” I beamed at her and then pushed my lips against her ear. “And she’s so fucking sexy when she’s jealous. Her lips plump up and a delicious blush crosses her cheeks.”
“Yeah?” She blushed, which made me grin. “What else is so great about this fantastic girl?”
With a trail of kisses, I skimmed my nose and mouth across her collarbone. “Well, her skin smells like coconut.”
She moaned at my touch and her breath tickled my hair.
“She’s ruined me though.”
“How’s that?” she asked as she panted with desire.
“I can’t smell coconut anymore without feeling mildly aroused.”
She raised one eyebrow. “Only mildly?”
I lowered my eyes to the front of my school shorts. They were pulled and stretched out of shape by my hard-on. Her gaze followed, so I palmed myself and chuckled. “Maybe just a little more than mildly.”
She brushed her hand along my side, teasing her fingers along the hem of my shirt. With a moan of pleasure building at the back of my throat, I moved my mouth from her hair to her face before pressing my lips against hers. There was no urgency in my movement. We had hours to just be with each other. My lips danced across hers without a care; our breaths were steady to prolong the kiss. For the moment, we were simply enjoying the taste of each other.
Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series) Page 6