Page 75 of Trading Paint
Sway was scrapping tires off to the side of the trailer with a hand held grinder but I could see her out of the corner of my eye from my spot on the ground under the car.
“Are you Jameson Riley?” Beside me, I could see Sway rolled her eyes.
Squinting into the bright sun, I made out her silhouette, tall, curvy, sexy I guess. It’d been a while since I’d had sex so naturally I looked. What man wouldn’t?
Tommy, being Tommy, made his way over before I could say anything.
“Hey there, what brings you over here?”
The girl laughed, twirling her hair on her fingertip. Rolling my eyes at Tommy and his flirting antics, I continued to change out my shocks. You’d think him and his orange hair wouldn’t catch the attention of girls but he could. I think they were all stunned at the bright hair or maybe felt back for him.
“I’m Lindsey.” She chimed, “I was hoping to meet Jameson.” She crouched down beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I examined her long tan legs. Her jean short appeared painted on and her shirt looked like it belonged to a toddler,still, I couldn’t avert my eyes away. I imagined how her legs would look wrapped around my waist or thrown over my shoulders.
Shit.Stop it you idiot.
Sway snorted and threw the grinder down beside her, walking away.
I sighed running my hand threw my hair. I had no idea what was wrong with Sway these days but lately, she’d become exceptionally annoyed at the pit lizards.
To be fair, they were annoying.
“Did you want an autograph or something?”
I didn’t have time for this.
“Well...” Lindsey bit down on her lip. “I was hoping for something a little morepersonal.”
I knew what she wanted, as did Tommy who let out a low whistle. I’d moved from under my car and leaned up against the right rear tire glaring in Tommy’s direction.
Lindsey being the standard pit lizard you’d find in the pits before a race; took no time at all to straddle my lap and whisper in my ear while slipping her number inside the front of my racing suit. “Come find me after the race darling.”
“Lindsey is it?” she nodded as I pulled her to stand up. “I’m sure you’re a nice girl but I have to be in Grand Rapids tomorrow night. I don’t have time.”
I turned away so she didn’t try again. I prided myself that I was starting to get the hang of this rejecting thing. Withtime, maybe I could ignore myself, myself being the assholewhocouldn’t stop thinking about his best friend being naked.
Lindsey left with Tommy after that, not sure where to and could care less. Since he and his girlfriend broke up, he and his orange hair were having a good time on the road.
After finishing up the adjustments on the car Scooter and I walked the track like I usually did, checking the surface. For the most part, he mostly quiet and understood that I was thinking. I liked to check the ruts and the coloring of the track. I knew if it was darkening, I would need to make air pressure and spring adjustments.
Kicking clay around I glanced over at the pit bleachers to see Sway and Dunn talking.
Scooter laughed when I glared in their direction. It was becoming pretty evident that I was protective of Sway andeveryone, I meaneveryone, mistook this as me having romantic feelings toward her. It wasn’t that. I just wanted her with someone who deserved her. None of these assholes did.
“Careful there, you don’t want to confuse the pit lizards.” Scooter remarked on our way back to the pits.
“Shut up,” I shot back defensively throwing my helmet at him.
The race couldn’t have gone any worse. My car was horrible and didn’t improve one bit throughout the seventy-five lap main event. I took my frustrations out on Dunn in front of me and with one lap to go I bumped him a little too hard and sent him into the marbles; he lost control and flipped his car a few times on the backstretch. I did not feel this was entirely my fault. He was the one that lost control, right?
After roughing up Dunn on the track, Sway came to find me.
“You’re being an asshole!” she told me while I opened my second beer.
I heard this a lot so it really didn’t mean anything any longer. It was just a fucking word.
Toward the end of October, the schedule for USAC was clear until the Perris Auto Week the first week in November. This left us running sprint cars and late models at local tracks whenever we found one. I was tired having run four nights a week for the past four months but I also knew I needed seat time in anything.
Emma had heard from a group of guys about a sprint car invitational taking place at a track outside of Republic, Washington called Eagle Racetrack. It is a 3/8 mile dirt track out in the middle of nowhere.
