Page 25 of Trading Paint

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Page 25 of Trading Paint

Jameson always teased that he was attracted to me but I chalked it up to friendly flirting. All guys did that, even Tommy flirted with me and I thought for sure Tommy was gay when I first met him. It didn’t mean Jameson had feelings and it didn’t mean I had any for him outside of friendship.

I was obviously no judge on attraction—Dylan would be a prime example. I thought he liked me, he said he did, we had sex and as soon as he pulled out, it was over. He never spoke to me again, just walked away.

I’d never felt so used, disgusting and dirty in my life as I did lying in the back of my old beat up truck half naked.

I don’t understand why people can’t decipher their emotions but I knew I couldn’t and neither could any other teenager I knew.

I also didn’t trust my feelings—look at Dylan. I felt something for him, so I thought and look how that turned out.

I had an attraction to Jameson as it was becoming apparent with my constant glances at his rock hard body but I also saw his desire to race. I’ve met a lot of racers at the track but no one ever showed the desire to be the best like Jameson did. He was focused, determined, and above all else, he had the ability. That combined with his burning desire made him unstoppable.

He was a natural on the track. He was born to do this and I wouldn’t get in his way and Iwouldn’tbe a distraction.

I would be the friend he needed and not the distraction he didn’t.

5.DialingIn– Jameson

Dialing In – This refers to the driver and crew making setup adjustments to achieve the car’s optimum handling characteristics.

My senior year I decided I was going to race with the World of Outlaws when they were in Skagit so that left Sway and I traveling together on a Tuesday night since the race was on a Wednesday.

After convincing Charlie that I needed her there, he agreed to let her skip school.

Spencer, Tommy and Emma also came along. This was our usual traveling team aside from Alley who decided to sit this one out.

We never had money to pay anyone that helped us since any money I did have went right back into my car. Tommy never once acted as though he wanted to be paid for helping. We did pay his way and fed him. If you knew Tommy, you knew that all he wanted was food and beer; money didn’t matter. It didn’t matter to any of us as all any of us lived for was the next race.

I always thought I was taking something away from Spencer and Emma being the only that raced but I soon understood that’s what they loved. They loved racing as much as I did and being the supportive family we came from, they did everything they could to help me.

I was loved that’s for sure but that doesn’t mean they didn’t make me crazy. At the end of the day, we loved each other and they were the best fans I could ask for.

It wasn’t unusual for Sway and me to be riding together in my truck and the others to ride in Tommy’s car. I preferred it that way for less distractions but the trip there ended up being the worst distraction of all.

Just outside of Seattle, Sway was searching around in the backseat for a CD when she turned abruptly and sat back in her seat. I glanced around to see if she saw a cop of something but nothing, just open highway.

“Jameson, what’s that smell?” she asked, her hand flew to her nose.

“Huh?” I didn’t smell anything but her coconut perfume.

Sway slapped me. “Seriously, it smells in here. Roll your window down.” She instructed rolling hers down frantically. She turned around again and stuck her ass up in the air digging around on the floor. “I still smell it, what is it?”

“I don’t smell anything.”

Shehuffeddramatically flopping back in the seat. She kept looking at me before averting her disgusted gaze out the window as a red Lexus flew past us.

I thought she’d moved on from the smell but then she groaned.

“Christ almighty, what the fuck is that?”

“I don’t smell anything!” I snapped annoyed she was making such a big deal out of this.

“Of course you don’t,” she went back to searching around on the floor in the back seat. “you’reused to it!”

A few minutes later, she pulled out a box I didn’t recognize that clearly had something die in it. “Where’d that come from?”

“I don’t know—your backseat?” Her eyebrow arched.

I smelled Spencer behind this one. He once put a dead rat in the vent in my bedroom and if you have ever tried to get that smell out of a heater vent, it is fucking hopeless.


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