Trading Paint (Racing on the Edge) (7 page)

“Miss who?” I knew she knew who I was referring to but was stalling. She fidgeted with the ruffles on her tutu.

“Your mom?”

Sway was silent for a long moment eating her noodles before sighing and leaned back on the wooden floor of the tree house. Setting down my food, I leaned back on my elbows to lie next to her.

“I miss her.” She mused nodding once. “I don’t remember much about her. I wish I did
...
I feel like I’m constantly forgetting memories that I wish I wouldn’t.”

“What do you remember?”

We had talked about Rachel every now and then but it wasn’t a typical conversation. Sway was a happy go lucky type girl and that’s what I loved about her. It was refreshing. She’d rather have good memories than bad and she’d rather laugh than cry.

“I still remember what she smelled like.” I watched her face closely as a tear slide down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I reached for her hand taking it in mine intertwining our fingers together. “I shouldn’t have asked.

“No,” she sniffled wiping her tears away. “I just miss her. It’s okay to talk about it. With you, I can talk about it.”

“Come here,” I pulled her into my arms trying to comfort her in any way I could.

I had no idea what she must feel like. Other than my uncle Lane dying when I was nine, we hadn’t lost anyone in our family. My grandparents were still alive and aside from my mom’s parents who had died in a car accident on New Year’s Eve when she was seven, I’d never had to deal with this kind of loss.

My mom did and I think that’s why she and Sway got along so well. She understood what Sway was going through.

I couldn’t imagine what that must feel like for either of them. I had an idea of Sway’s sadness since we talked about it but to live her life and deal with what she went through, I didn’t know.

“Thanks for not going to the dance.” She told me after a good ten minutes of silence; her tears dried.

“No problem,” I chuckled against her shoulder. “Do you know what would make this night fun?”

“I could use some entertainment.” She turned in my arms. “What did you have in mind?”

“Refilling Emma’s lotions with glue again and cutting holes in Spencer’s underwear.” I stood to help her up. “Our usual madness,”

“Sounds like fun. Let’s see what Hershey’s up to tonight.”

I laughed. “Remember to lock the gate this time.” Hershey was Old Man Roger’s cow. Sway and Hershey had a love hate relationship. Sway thought Hershey was some kind of horse and tried to ride her every chance she could and well, Hershey had other ideas about that. She took every opportunity she could to shit on Sway.
Literally.

The following Monday at school I was faced with
a
angry Chelsea.

“Where the
fuck were
you?” she asked pushing my shoulder. Sway, Tommy, Emma and I were all gathered around my truck before school began.

“What are you talking about?” I smirked. I noticed Sway moved from standing beside me to stand next to Emma.

“You stood me up at prom!” she yelled causing other classmates to turn and stare. “How could you?”

“I’m sure you made do.” I retorted noticing a purplish mark down the side of her neck. My eyes narrowed at her and then moved to the mark on her neck and then back to hers.

She knew damn well I knew.

“Have a nice day, Chelsea.” I winked and walked away to my first class.

Sway, laughing, followed Tommy and Emma toward their math class.

Emma began taking extra classes this year to graduate with us a year sooner so this put her in a few of our classes. That was fine until she ended up in my biology class.

Emma and I didn’t get along for obvious reasons. Get two people who have obsessive compulsive tenancies and then add the need to be a perfectionist
...
we didn’t mix. With her need to rub lotion on her body continuously and my obsession with anything on my skin, she made me crazy.

She bumped my elbow sometime before class began. “I need a pencil.”

“So get one.” I replied looking over my paper making sure I did it correctly.

“Hey dumbass, that’s why I asked you for one.” She shot back kicking me.

Naturally, I kicked her back.

“No
...
you
said you
need
a pencil. Nowhere in that sentence did you say “Can I borrow a pencil,” now did you?”

“You’re an asshole.” She whispered and walked away from me to retrieve a pencil from the teacher.

Chelsea caught me again after third period. “Did you stand me up for Sway?” her tone demanding and accusing. The way it always was.

Focused on my homework that I had failed to do the night before, I never looked up and I contemplated not answering her as well. I didn’t feel the need to explain myself. I already had to tell my mom why and that was enough for me. In the end, mom forced Sway and I to dress up so she could take pictures, either that or she threatened to sell my car.

I was in my tuxedo and forcing Sway to put that damn tutu back on within seconds. I’d grown accustomed to the tutu and found it incredibly adorable on her.

“Sway is none of your business.” I answered, my jaw clenching tightly.

“I want to know where I stand with you. You’re always leaving for her. I know you want her so why do you even mess around with me?”

“Why do
you
even bother with me? I know you see other guys.”

Chelsea was silent for a moment, her finger drumming against her book. “Despite what
you
think, I do like you Jameson but you’re taken.”

I didn’t get a chance to respond as Mr. Simmons walked in to begin class.

The entire hour-long class I contemplated what she said.

Was I taken?

I knew damn well what she referring to. Maybe I was taken but that still didn’t change the fact that Sway was my best friend. She was not my girlfriend and I had no claim on her. Girlfriends complicate everything. You go from being friends and then once you slap the official title on it, things change. Emotions get involved, insecurities rule and feelings get hurt. I didn’t want that with Sway.

I wanted the bond. I wanted the strong emotional connection we had and I didn’t want it to end.

What if I hurt her? What if she didn’t feel the same way and hurt me? Most of all, what if we did get together, I’m sure we’d have sex and then what? Would I feel the same way or was all this emotion for her because I couldn’t have her in the ways I wanted?
Infatuation maybe?

Once school ended, Sway caught a ride with Tommy and I, as usual, headed to the track to blow off some steam as usual.

Looking back on this time of my life, I hated being a teenager because in the face of everything you’re dealing with, you have emotions. The shitty thing about those emotions was not being able to decipher what in the hell they meant or why you felt that way in the first place.

4.
    
Gauge – Jameson

Gauge – An instrument, usually mounted on the dashboard, used to monitor engine conditions such as fuel pressure, oil pressure and temperature, water pressure and temperature, and RPMs (revolutions per minute).

“Where are you going kid?”

“The track.
I’m meeting Sway there. She’s coming with us to Cottage Grove.” I told my dad on the way out the door.

For my birthday last year, my parents bought me a car. I had to pay for half of it and whatever amount I was able to come up with; they matched. All that hard-earned money bought me a 1967 Ford Shelby Mustang GT 500.

Yeah, I was spoiled but I loved that car. A few weeks after I got the car, my dad went for a ride with me and squeezed himself into the non-existed back seat. He refused to sit in the front seat like a normal person would. Instead, he insisted I drive him around town like I was driving Miss Daisy.

Eventually, I traded the car for a truck, a 1996 Ford F-250 so I could haul my sprint car around. It seemed like a better option and I needed to be realistic. I also got four speeding tickets in two weeks so that may have been the deciding factor as well but I refuse to admit that’s why.

Over the last summer, it was rare for Sway and I to ever be apart.

Chelsea and I dated on and off but I couldn’t stand her longer than a few weeks before I was telling her to get lost. Then Sway would get to me again and I found myself looking to Chelsea as a distraction or whoever was available.

Sway never did anything to piss me off, quite the opposite. Everything she did turned me on.

I began dating girls in an attempt to hide the physical attraction I was feeling toward Sway and kept my distance from her and her body in fear that I’d slip and do something to ruin the intense bond we had. I could tell her anything, as could she. Having this intense bond meant I knew when something was up with her, like today.

Last night we were at the track for the Northern Sprint Tour and she had disappeared somewhere between the feature events.

I was racing but when I made it back to the pits that night, Sway wasn’t around. I tried calling her afterward to see where she went but she never answered.

“Where’d you go last night?” I asked once she got inside.

Sway threw her bag on the floor and looked over at me. Her red puffy eyes focused on mine. “I went home. I wasn’t feeling good.”

I scanned her eyes, searching for the answer I knew they’d give me. She was lying and that’s not something we did. We never lied to each other.

“Bullshit.”

It took some convincing but on the way to the shop to load my car, she admitted she met up with Dylan Grady. I didn’t feel the need to ask questions. The revolting nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach kept me from asking what happened. It was comparable to the night I saw them making out at Tommy’s party.

Dylan Grady was a player; had been and always would be.

Sure, he was popular and good looking as the girls would say but his popularity did nothing for his personality or lack of one. The fact that she was hanging around with him in general enraged me but I kept my cool. I wasn’t her only friend and I wasn’t her boyfriend. I had no right to dictate who she hung out with or where she went.

So instead of replying to her confession, I only nodded and drove to the shop in silence. When we got there, Sway went over to Alley, who was now living with Spencer, and Emma and began talking while Spencer, my dad and me loaded the car.

By the end of their conversation, Sway was crying in Alley’s arms and Emma looked pissed. Emma may be the youngest of the Riley kids not to mention the smallest but she showed the biggest heart when she wasn’t lathering herself with lotion.

If anyone crossed us, it was Emma who felt it and took action upon herself. If there is one positive thing I could say about Emma, aside from being ridiculously obsessive compulsive, it is that she would stick up for her family above all else.

“What are you doing?” I asked Emma as she rummaged around through the toolbox.

“Looking for a wrench,” She seethed looking over at me. “I’m going to kill Dylan.”

“Hold on there, why would you do that?” Spencer asked reaching for the wrench. I held her back from retrieving it again.

Her expression changed when she saw Sway approaching the shop. “He
...
Sway
...
oh
never mind.” She finally mumbled when she realized she’d already given away too much.

Sway, in a slightly better mood and twirling a sucker in her mouth, bounded back inside the shop.

“You boys ready yet?” She chirped sitting down on the rear tire of my sprint car, with the sucker.

Holy fuck.

Distracted by the sucker around her lips for obvious reasons, I turned and made myself think of something else. Like why my sister wanted to kill Dylan.

Spencer drove up with Alley and Emma while Sway and I hauled my sprint car with my truck. I took the time to try to talk to her, after she threw away the sucker and I could look at her.

“Why did Emma want to kill Dylan earlier today?” I blurted out somewhere after we made it to Portland.

Sway smiled and looked down at her cut off shorts, toying with the fringed fabric between her fingers.

“It’s nothing Jameson, he’s just a jerk. That’s all.”

I left her alone, knowing my pushing the subject was bothering her.

Last night at Elma I ran good—not great, but good and ended up with a third place finish in the feature. Tonight at Cottage Grove was absolutely nuts. In the start, things couldn’t have looked any worse, so I thought.

I was lined up fourteenth and fell back to eighteenth within the first three laps. Ryder, the kid from North Carolina, was racing side-by-side with me, taking every line I wanted. Every time I was beginning to make some ground, the caution flew and every time it took a few laps for my car to get into the groove.