Racehead

by Daya Daniels

  Only we aren’t flat. Our feet rest lower than our heads. It all feels odd, like we’re about to fall over. On TV, this track looks completely flat but clearly, it isn’t. I place my hand on the asphalt and shut my eyes for a split second. During the day, this ground must be scorching but tonight, it’s cool.

  “A few racers have died here on bikes and in cars.” Nevada exhales.

  I tuck my lips in. “Do you ever worry about that, Nevada? Ya know, dying?”

  “Sometimes.” She tosses a popcorn kernel up in the air.

  With a giggle, I catch it in my mouth.

  We’ve been just like this for a while, breathing in the breeze, staring out at the track, talking about nothing important.

  “I try not to worry about it mostly.” A tiny smile perches on her lips.

  “Do you need the Cuda back anytime soon?” I munch on a bit more popcorn. “I can kind of rent it from you for the time being.”

  Nevada laughs. “Nah, you can keep it. I can freshen up one of the other cars in Syd’s junkyard and have it on the road in the next day or so. I’m never really without transportation.”

  “Okay.” I smile. “But, I’m still giving you the money for it, every week.”

  “If your soul won’t rest until you do, and you insist, then I accept but I will tell you that it isn’t necessary.” She sighs.

  “It is.”

  “Okay.” She gives me a strange look. “You have a lot of jobs, V.”

  I smirk. “Yeah, I know.”

  She shifts on her side to face me just as the wind washes over us ruffling her blonde strands. She brushes them away from her forehead. “Why so many?”

  “Well, none of them pay that well. So, in order to make up the difference for that, I must have more than one.” I shrug. “I’m used to it. It’s no big deal.”

  Nevada’s grays linger a bit too long on my face. “Where’s your dad?”

  I stiffen. “Where’s yours?”

  She laughs softly. “No idea. I never knew him. Not worried at all about that either.”

  “I see.” A breath leaves me. “Well, my dad lives right here in Riverside in Allesandro Heights.”

  Her brows knot.

  “I don’t see him much. I never really had much of a relationship with him. My parents had the strangest union. They remained married for years. They were together. They broke up. Then they got back together. It was odd. They’d been apart for years when my mother got pregnant with Banks and then right after that they broke up again. My father left Assam and that was the last time I saw him for years.” I pull my cellphone out of my pocket and bring up a photograph of my parents together. “This is Vijay and Pari way back in the day. I think my mother is pregnant in this photograph.”

  “That’s really cool.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” I keep my eyes on the picture for a while, realizing I don’t have any memory of the day it was taken.

  “What was your mom like?”

  “She was spicy.” I laugh. “Very sarcastic and no nonsense. I miss her.”

  “Every girl needs their madre.” Nevada’s smile is sad.

  “Yeah, I agree. I miss her so fucking much.” I fiddle with a pebble on the ground.

  “And your dad knows you’re here in Riverside?”

  “Yeah, of course.” I bark out a laugh. “I still haven’t seen him though and he hasn’t made much of an effort to see me or Banks. Plus, he has a new family now.”

  Vijay Patel has been married to some ex-pageant beauty for a while now. They live in a huge ultra-modern house at the end of a cul-de-sac which sits behind eight foot high walls and a massive iron gate. There’s a fancy car parked outside it, which my father drives to his fancy job every day. And I know this because I’ve been there at least seven times since I’ve been here in California. But I’ve lacked the courage to get out of the car and go knock on the door. I’m terrified of what Vijay might say or might not say.

  Anyways, I’m quite sure Vijay hasn’t thought about me or Banks since the Mexican-American War. As far as Vijay Patel is concerned, the two of us are currently his sister, Matilda’s, problem.

  “Oh.” Nevada’s expression is sympathetic.

  I ignore it.

  “I don’t let it get to me. I just work and take care of Banks and try not to worry about the fact that we have a father who might as well be dead.”

  “It’s good that Banks has you.” She blinks.

  “Yeah, well, I need Banks.” I chuckle.

  As crazy as that sounds, and as obnoxious as Banks can be, it’s always just been the two of us. We need each other more than ever, especially now that Pari is gone.

  “Is Syd your—”

  “After Madre died, Syd kept me.”

  I give her a long look waiting for her to explain more.

  “Syd was my madre’s girlfriend. She kept me with her. I don’t know, I guess I always felt like Syd did it out of obligation because she was more than likely asked to. But then when I became a teenager, I discovered she could’ve sent me to live with my uncle and his kids in Santa Fe but chose not to.” She smiles. “I’m glad I got to stay here in Riverside. I don’t think they would’ve liked me much in Santa Fe.” She laughs. “They would’ve kicked me out.”

  “No, they wouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, trust me, they would’ve.”

  We rest on our sides, staring at each other.

  “I like you, Vashti Patel.”

  “I like you too, Nevada Cruz.”

  We laugh.

  I toss a kernel into her mouth.

  Nevada catches it and chews. “Syd is always asking me what my plans are…God, it’s bullshit. She wants me to go to college and stop racing. She wants me to get serious about my life.” Nevada sucks her teeth. “You are the epitome of who Syd wants me to be.”

  I laugh out loud and place my hand in the middle of my chest.

  “Yes, you.” Nevada giggles. “You keep your head down and don’t make any wild choices. You’re responsible. You work like eighteen different jobs. You play it safe.”

  My brows knot. “Is that a compliment?”

  “Yesssss.” Nevada’s gray eyes widen. “Of course it is.”

  I’m still giggling.

  “You’re the perfect girl.” With a soft gaze, her eyes meet mine. “I mean that.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, realizing that’s the sweetest thing a woman has ever said to me.

  “And I’m like this rebel who’s hanging her hat on a pipe dream.” She spears her fingers into her hair. “My life revolves around cars and speed and racing. I have nothing else going for myself.”

  It’s the first time I’ve seen this woman display one iota of insecurity and it truly floors me because it’s absurd. Nevada is one of the best drivers this city has ever seen.

  “That isn’t true.” I jack-knife to a sitting position.

  She groans.

  “And besides I’m just a girl who saw one open-wheel race on TV back in Assam, got excited about it and somehow thought I could be a mechanical engineer. Pari believed so too and so did the rest of my family back there.” I laugh. “So, I just stuck with it.”

  “And you will be.” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “It’s part of the reason why I gave you the car.” She smirks. “I saw your books in the back seat of that disaster and I knew there was no way you could learn anything about engines by driving that piece of crap.” She giggles.

  I laugh too. “Thanks, and it has helped.”

  “See.” She lifts a brow.

  I twist my lips conscious of how my insides flop over each time I look into her orbs. They hold lots of answers to my questions. They calm at least some of my insecurities and worries. They make me feel really cool about just being myself. As if I could want or pretend to be someone else...

  “I’d like to go to the beach one of these days.” I stare at my hands. “I keep saying that one day on my day off I’ll go, but I never have the time because I always end up doing wh
at Banks wants to do. Especially, if my day off falls on a weekend.”

  “Honestly, I think I want to do that too.” Nevada smiles. “I can’t tell you the last time I had a day off, really. When I’m not driving at night or during the day, legitimately, I’m in the garage.”

  “That’s a bummer.”

  “Kind of.” She tucks herself deeper into her jacket. “Maybe I would go to the beach, if I had someone to go with.” She eyes me oddly, then laughs.

  “You don’t have anyone to go the beach with?” I make a face.

  “No, not really.” She smiles. “Ash is always with Bambi and everyone else is just busy. So, I don’t usually go even though it isn’t far from here.”

  “We should then.” I nod harshly.

  “And you really should make some time to come to the garage so I can show you how to fix a flat tire.” She nudges me in the side.

  “Oh, yeah that. Right.” I exhale loudly. “That I definitely need to learn.”

  “Yep.” She accentuates the p. “A woman who can’t change her own flat tire is the equivalent of a female human who can’t wipe their own ass.”

  I bark out a laugh. “Whattttt?”

  Nevada shrugs. “Harsh analogy but it’s the truth.”

  I giggle.

  “I know you don’t have lots of time, Vashti, in between school and work and taking care of Banks. And I don’t either, truthfully. But, I believe people make time for the things and the people they are really serious about. I promise, right now, in front of these empty grandstands.” She laughs. “That I will make time for you.” She waits patiently for my response.

  I want to beg for more. For the meaning of her words but I don’t.

  “I promise too then,” I whisper.

  She takes my hand in hers.

  “This whole situation feels so much like the cool kid in high school who’s promising to be friends with the big loser nerd.” I giggle.

  “No, it’s nothing like that at all.” She tilts her head to the side. “You’re already cool, Vashti.”

  I bite my lip as she edges close to me. “Thanks.”

  She gazes out at the track. “One day, I’m going to race here.”

  “I believe you.”

  “One day I’m going to go pro.”

  “I believe that too.” I smile.

  “I say all the right words and affirmations.” She grunts. “But I’m never sure how much I believe it.”

  “I think if you work for your dream it will come true and that’s what you’re doing. On the weekends when you race on the pro drag track or on the drift track, that’s what you’re doing, Nevada. You’re working toward your dream.” I sigh. “And I don’t think it’s a pipedream at all. That word implies that your dream is a delusion. And I don’t believe that all, Racehead.” I smile.

  Nevada sighs and I know there’s a lot more she isn’t telling me. “I’m reckless.” She plays with my fingers. “I do crazy shit.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “This race that’s coming up out in The Badlands. It’s the biggest one of the year. The final. The pot is fifty grand.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” She nods. “I need that money. I’m going to use it to brand myself first and then hopefully, I’ll go pro with that money, Vashti. It’ll get me in front of real sponsors and off the amateur circuit.” She makes a funny face. “I’m tempted to get my car back with that money, but honestly I can’t afford it and Megs who has my ride won’t budge on the price.”

  “It sounds like she’s making it impossible.” I trace a line over her hand, drawing linking circles. “It’s got to feel pretty damn good knowing you’re driving around The Valley in the great Racehead’s old car.”

  Nevada squints.

  “That’s probably why she doesn’t want to give it back.”

  “That car is worth way more than money to me, so I want it back.”

  “I understand.” I huff. “But why did you race for pink slips with it anyways if it means so much to you?”

  Nevada purses her lips. “It was just another one of those reckless things on my very long list of reckless things I’ve done.”

  “Oh.”

  “I find I’m becoming less and less willing to take chances these days but the old mistakes I can’t erase. And that car…” She lets out a breath. “Means a lot to me. It was Madre’s. I want it back. And I’m going to get it back.” Swearing, she shakes her head and then shifts completely to face me. “Let’s go to the beach tomorrow.”

  The abrupt change in subject gives me whiplash.

  I giggle.

  She sits up and keeps her beautiful orbs on mine as we stand.

  I tuck a lock of my hair behind my left ear. “So…”

  It’s been a long while since I’ve attempted to be flirty. It all comes out weird and daft like I’m some version of a hand model attempting to be a super model. But I push on, anyways, gifting the woman I’ve become so enamored with since I met her a cute grin. My face heats. My hands shake. My thoughts become one big mess. It’s a mixture of common sense and desire that war with each other, leaving neither to win.

  “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  Nevada’s fingertips find my earlobe. “Oh Vashti, I thought I already had.”

  Nevada

  WARM.

  And so perfect.

  My fingers skate along her skin, down her cheek and neck.

  She’s beautiful beneath this light.

  A goddess.

  It’s all magical.

  I nudge my nose to hers, just as a tiny breath leaves her supple mouth. I do it again. A gasp. One more time. A sigh.

  The night air floats over us and does absolutely nothing to blow away the lust.

  It’s still here, sticking to each one of us like sweat.

  “I like to go slow, really fucking slow.” I nip at her pouty top lip and peer into her eyes. My fingers get lost in her hair.

  “A stark contradiction.” She’s frozen. “I don’t know what I like.”

  I smile, breathing in the soft scent of her skin. “You do. You just don’t know it yet.” I press my lips to hers. Electric. Soul-changing. I jump when her fingertips dig into my side.

  When I pull away, Vashti practically lunges at me capturing my mouth in another kiss. Ravenous. A hunger I share but haven’t had time to entertain for far too long.

  My tongue brushes hers. It twists in her warm and wet mouth, appreciating the sweet taste of apricots which lingers on her tongue. She moans against my lips and pulls me closer just as my hand finds her nape.

  “I smell like chicken grease.” She mumbles.

  “You don’t.” I giggle. “And even if you did, I love chicken.”

  Vashti’s eyes lower to the asphalt where the perimeter lights now shine down on us.

  “You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” I inhale her skin.

  The kiss breaks slowly, achingly.

  Big cappuccino orbs find mine. Wet lips part. Overzealous fingers relax.

  “You’re hot, Nevada.” Vashti’s long lashes flutter.

  I laugh at her outburst.

  “So are you.” Grinning like a fool, I kiss her once more, never wanting to stop.

  I breathe her in along with the gasoline. The two aromas couldn’t affect my brain more perfectly. As if they belong etched there in my mind like an important life lesson.

  When Vashti pulls away she laughs. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually this forward.” She stumbles then regains her footing, as if she’s dizzy.

  I reach out to grab her trembling hand. “It’s okay, I believe I kissed you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I liked it.”

  “So did I.”

  “I was hoping you—”

  I’m in her space again, claiming her mouth, tasting her tongue, reveling in the sensation of her warm body against mine.

  It’s addictive for me.

  This kiss.

  Like speed.

  Th
e drug.

  You just keep wanting it again and again.

  I’m a junkie for this woman!

  She cups my face with her hands and peers into my eyes. Her bottom lip quivers wildly and ragged breaths leave her mouth.

  Neither of us says a word.

  We just get stuck in some sort of vortex where only the two of us exist.

  And it’s beautiful.

  Like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

  “I thought when I came to this place I would be miserable.” A dent is etched between her brows. “And I think I was…”

  “You’re in the perfect place, Vashti.”

  “Yeah, I think so too.”

  I kiss her lips once more. “You’re exactly where you belong.”

  Vashti

  A FEW HOURS LATER…

  My eyes burn from looking as these pages for as long as I have.

  I scribble notes down as I flick through them, muttering numbers to myself, wondering if they make any sense. The tick of the clock on the wall is deafening in the one o’clock in the morning silence. The time does nothing to encourage me to go sleep even though I need to badly.

  I make my hair messy, pushing away the thought about what tomorrow is.

  Right now, I must focus on understanding simple topics like propeller aerodynamic theories.

  With an exam in a week, I vowed that in between work my head would be buried in these expensive books.

  Sighing, I tap on my temple with the pencil in my hand, exhausted.

  Getting my degree is the only way out of this shit situation I’ve been in. If I graduate, I stand to make a decent salary that would more than just support Banks and me. We’d be able to move into a bigger place. I’d be able to get a decent car or at least pay Nevada for the one she’s letting me use.

  Kicking my bag on the floor, the change in the bottom of it clinks.

  Aside from the cash I need to save, I have exactly ninety-six dollars of “entertainment money” tomorrow for the date I’ll be going on with Nevada. I have no clue what she has in mind we do after we go for a swim but whatever it is, it can’t cost more than ninety-six dollars.

  I run the tip of my pencil across the words printed on the page of this very thick text book.

  The propeller links to the driveshaft of the power source either directly or through reduction gearing—which reduced the output revolutions per minute from the powerplant.