Page 206 of Trading Paint
As I walked her around the garage, introducing her to the new team members there was a sense of familiarity between us that was comforting. She was still my girl, the same girl who would blush and punch you at the same time. The same girl whose eyes told a story, but you had to listen to understand them, if you didn’t, you would never know the real her. She was the girl who loved ice cream more than breathing, who hated clowns like they were the devil and couldn’t walk into a room at night without every light being on. She was my girl.
I watched her closely, inquisitively examining her every movement. It was if my mind was trying to find a way out of the decision it already made but she wasn’t giving me any reason to go back it.
She was responsive to my touch, leaned into my embrace and when I kissed her cheek every so often, she returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around me.
Could it be she wanted something more just as much as I did?
The night was passing with a blur and soon I was heading to the motor coach to get ready. It was funny to me that everything I’d been feeling throughout the day with the penalty, was overshadowed by Sway being here. She had the power to completely pivot everything hurled onto my shoulders just by being here.
I had a plan for tonight and nothing was going to change that. My mom asked me where that boy was that was so tenaciously determined. Well, I found him. More tenacious and more determined than ever.
30. Flat-out – Jameson
Flat-out – Refers to using 100% of the race car and not holding back on the ability of the car in a race.
Leaving Sway with Emma, I made my way to the drivers meeting.
That’s when I spotted someone I thought, hoped, I’d never see again.
Chelsea Adams.
Seeing her, wasn’t the most repugnantly unsettling part about it, it was her clinging firmly to Tate’s arm that made me want to vomit. She fucking hated racing but she washere, with a guy who deserved so much better than her skanky ass.
Don’t confuse this with jealousy because that was not it, at all. IhatedChelsea and IlikedTate. He didn’t need that drama any more than I did back in high school.
Bobby noticed my scowl and asked, “You know her?” motioning behind us at them.
I grunted but kept walking toward the media center.
“She showed up this morning.” He told me. “Must be his new girl he met in Washington.”
“Washington...what was Tate doing in Washington?”
Bobby looked at me as though I was stupid for not knowing. “The IDC race...we went out there on the bi-week.”
“Oh—right, I forgot.”
I wasn’t at all surprised when Tate sat next to me at the drivers meeting. I’m sure Chelsea packed his brain with all sorts of shameless lies.
“I heard you know Chelsea.” Tate said conversationally as he sat next to me in a folding metal chair; his hefty arms crossed over his chest. Other drivers and their crew chiefs began filing in behind us, filling the empty chairs on either side of us.
My eyes shifted from my phone I’d been holding, “Yeah, we went to high school together.”
“She said you dated.”
I snorted slipping my phone inside my jeans. “I wouldn’t call it that.”
Tate tilted his head in confusion waiting for me to elaborate; only I didn’t care to, why should I? I didn’t want to remember her any more than I wanted to tell him.
“What do you mean?” he finally asked.
Carefully choosing my words, I replied slowly. “She is not exactly the faithful type.”
He seemed to consider this but I also knew Chelsea had a cogent side. She could make you see what you wanted to see. She should have been a politician.
Gordon walked inside the media center after that to begin the meeting. Kyle took a seat next to me, I smiled—he smiled. We both knew what this meeting would contain.
Knowing the events throughout the day with the fines handed down, how do you think the drivers meeting went?
