Page 192 of Trading Paint
Nice huh?
I understood NASCAR’s position on this, I did. But as the sanctioning body for a variety of series, you’d think a little more slack would be given in this area. These temperaments and aggressive driving did wonders for their ratings,that’swhat I didn’t understand. There had to be a line drawn somewhere with them and their penalties. Was Darrin fined? No.
That right there should have told me something. As a sanctioning body, you’d think there would be a little more fairness.
I was fuming the rest of the night, until Sway sent me a text.Congrats on the win.
Not wanting to say something negative, I stared at the screen for a good ten minutes before replying with:Thanks.
I thought briefly about turning my phone off after that, but didn’t.
Don’t pay any mind to Darrin or the media. You raced fair and clean, that’s all that matters. He’s a jackass.
I know.
I hope you do know. And don’t just say you know Jameson. You need to actually know because that’s the difference here. Knowing and doing.
She had a point. Even clouded judgment could see that—the imperviously manic side of me didn’t want reassurance—he wanted to be pissed.
The next morning after I went for a quick run around the track, to calm my impetuosity, I hit the weight room that the track had.
We didn’t talk much—we were in there for a reason.
Eventually, Bobby did say something to me.
“That was onehelluvashow last night.”
I simply grunted in return continuing with my bicep curls until I reached my limit. Setting the weights on the floor, I nodded. “Not exactly the way I wanted to end the night though.”
“Yeah, so you got fined. I got fined for loose lug nuts during the second segment. It happens.”
“He’s an asshole. Always has been.” Tate added as Andy walked through the doors. We all looked up at him as Darrin shuffled in behind him.
I left immediately. There was no way I could keep from throwing a punch or two at that asshole if he said anything toward me. I didn’t plan on starting out my cup career like this, called into the NASCAR hauler every time I turned around but no, Darrin ensured I did.
I made my way back to my motor coach in the driver’s compound after showing my credentials.
I shrugged out of my jacket not bothering to pick it up from the floor when it missed the coat rack as that would require a little more energy than I was willing to put forth at the moment. Tossing my keys on the counter, I walked past Spencer on the couch watching cartoons with Lane eating bowl of cereal. Usually, I was the only one that stayed at the track in the motor coach aside from Cal—he stayed there too. The rest of the team got hotels nearby. Spencer and Lane stayed with me last night though since Alley and Emma drove back to Mooresville.
With the Coca-Cola 600 on Sunday and practice starting on Thursday, I didn’tneedto go back home. It was only a thirty-minute drive so if I needed too, I could go home.
Pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I sat down next to Spencer on the couch, my phone vibrated next to me. Thinking it was Sway, I picked it up to see a text from Spencer.
Wanna go to Williams Grove tonight for the Morgan Cup Challenge?
I don’t know why I texted him back, he was sitting right next to me but it was sometimes easier to play along with Spencer antics then to question them.
Can’t.Have to be in Concord this afternoon for an appearance.
We’ll come with you. We could eat at Longhorn.
That got my attention. Anytime we were in Concord, we ate at the Longhorn Steak House. If there was ever a time where I had to choose my last meal, it would be at the Longhorn.
Ok.
Let’s go now.
“I’m sitting right here asshole. Stop texting me.”
