Page 160 of Trading Paint
What would I say to her? I couldn’t tell her about Charlie and telling her how I felt seemed just as hard. It goes back to that thing I couldn’t get over, with so much weighing on my words, how do you know what to say and how to say it?
Tear-offs – Sway
It was Tuesday night and I was doing what I usually did, studying for my Wednesday marketing class. I had a final next week that I wasn’t prepared for. I couldn’t wait for graduation, for one. I hated being by myself and I hated school but mostly, I was all alone and that’s what was depressing.
I thought of Jameson a lot. I watched every race faithfully and cried like a goddamn fool when he won and I wasn’t there. Every interview was taped and every newspaper article was clipped and stored in a box under my bed. I was damn near a stalker and it was disturbing even to me. But I loved him. It took me a while to understandwhyI loved him; it was gradual but surging.
I loved him more than I ever thought possible and with it came a world of passion, confusion, intensity, desire, jealousy, heartache and comfort. I wanted to tell him how I felt, make him see that we would could be great together but he didn’t need that right now. He needed to focus on his career and I’d just be another distraction he didn’t need.
“Ugh,” I groaned and once again opened my internet browser to read the latest news on him. NASCAR’s website had a picture of him holding Darrin by his racing suit, both still clad in their helmets in what appeared to be a heated conversation. I hadn’t read this article so I opened it.
Tempers flared in Texas
Around lap 72 of the Samsung Mobile 500 race, Jameson Riley, driver of the No. 9 Ford Simplex and Darrin Torres, driver of the No. 14 Wyle Products Chevy got into each other setting off a chain reaction followed by a red flag. That wasn’t the only red on the track as these two got out of their cars and were involved in a major shoving match that resulted in Riley nearing taking a swing until NASCAR got involved.
When asked by a television broadcaster what was said Riley replied with. “I wanted to see what his problem was. He seems to have a problem with meeveryweek. I’m sick of it.”
Torres later said that if the incident was his fault he would take responsibility and apologize but he felt it wasn’t. “It wasn’t my fault.” Torres told ESPN after the altercation, “I have little respect for that kid. He comes in here and acts like his daddy is going to bail him out of everything. He’s got talent sure but his aggressive disregard out there gets him nowhere.”
Both team owners said the incident was unfortunate but refused to discuss it any further as they have appealed the fines handed down from NASCAR.
Engrossed in my own personal Jameson daze, I nearly pissed myself when my phone began vibrating on my desk beside me. I noticed Jameson’s picture pop up on the screen so, of course, I nearly broke my neck trying to get to it in time. The line was static and muffled with a loud humming.
“What’s that noise? Where are you?” I yelled attempting to talk over the noise.
“In an airplane,” Jameson yelled back over the humming. “willyou pick me up at the airport?”
“What airport?”
“The one in Bellingham,”
“There’s an airport in...Bellingham?”
“There better be. That’s where the plane is heading.” He laughed. “I can only stay for one night.”
I was silent. Was he serious? Why would he fly all the way here for one night?
“Are you going to come get me or shall I call a cab?” he pressed impatiently.
“Yeah...” I cleared my throat. “I’ll come get you.”
We hung up and I panicked. I had no idea where the airport was and why in the world he was flying here for one night? Google had quickly become my guide for navigating but I was left with my paranoid thoughts and Google had nothing to offer me on that one.
I printed out directions from the internet and then headed out except there was one problem withthis,or two really. First, I am navigationally challenged beyond-belief. I once got lost going to Jameson’s house when we were kids. I might add that he lived down the street.
So then you add the weather, yeah, I was having a hard time. I shouldn’t have been surprised living in Washington, guess what the weather was doing this fine spring evening?
Raining.
And not just any kind of rain, it was the kind that you couldn’t see a foot in front of your car, or in my case, the red dragon. Also, I didn’t have windshield wipers.
So there the red dragon andmewere, trying to find the Bellingham International airport that wasn’t much bigger than a landing strip you’d see in Playboy. Oh and it was pouring. I might have said this already but this just added to the confusion because I was almost certain I was night blind. I needed all the assistance I could get at night.
It didn’t help that my mind was more focused on what Jameson wanted flying all the way out here for one night. Was something wrong with him or someone in his family? Something had to be wrong. He wouldn’t just come out here for no reason, would he?
I tried calling him a few times to tell him I was lost but as luck would have it, I had no cell reception. Staring at the screen it flashed, “No Service,” and I snapped.
“You stupid piece of shit with no service!”
