“Tatum.” His voice was calm, but the underlying bitterness was there. “Would you ride with me, please?”
I eyed him for a moment, appreciating this rare show of humbleness, even if it was forced, before I held out my hand. “Keys?”
Jared dropped them in my hand.
As I bit the corner of my mouth to stifle a smile, I ran up onto the track with Jared following behind. I saw Roman hopping out of his car, having backed it into place behind the starting line for his girlfriend. I jogged up to Jared’s car, and the clusters of people around the track erupted in whispers and whistles at seeing me head for the driver’s side.
Jared climbed into the passenger’s seat, and I slammed my door shut after sinking into the cool leather. The impressive car was almost entirely black on the inside, and I immediately felt chills on my arms. Jared’s car sang of its power with its cave-like feel: cool, dark, and animalistic.
Hot damn.
Turning the key, I backed into position as the crowd departed to the sidelines. The vibration through my thighs made my center tingle, and I immediately looked over to Jared, who was watching me.
His elbow propped next to his window, he leaned his head on his hand and peered at me with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. I wondered what he thought of me behind his wheel.
“You’re smiling,” he pointed out, almost as an accusation.
I stroked the steering wheel without meeting his eyes. “Don’t ruin this for me by talking, please.”
Jared cleared his throat and continued anyway. “So, your dad taught us both how to drive sticks, and the Bronco is a manual, so I’m assuming you don’t have any questions about that part, right?”
“None.” My pulse was hammering through my fingertips.
“Good. The turns are tight. Tighter than they look. The idea is to get there first, or fall behind to go after. Don’t try to make a left with Roman’s car, got it?”
I nodded. My eyes stared straight ahead, ready to get going as my foot anxiously tapped.
“At each left, let off the gas before you turn, and then accelerate after you’ve straightened out. If you feel like you need apply the brake on the turn then do it but as minimally as possible. Don’t accelerate until you’ve rounded the turn. You’ll spin out.”
I nodded again.
“Hit the gas in between turns. On the last leg, hit it hard.” His voice was commanding.
“Jared, I got it.” I looked over to him. “I can do this.”
He didn’t look like he believed me, but he stopped anyway. “Buckle up.”
Following his order, I glanced over to my left and saw Roman barking orders at his girlfriend while she nodded nervously. Zack walked between the two cars to take his position up front. Thankfully, it appeared he would send us on our way instead of the slutty jailbait from before.
As I looked out the front windshield, keeping my eye on Zack, I noticed what Jared had hung on his rearview mirror. I reached out and grabbed the oval shaped piece of clay, secured by a light green ribbon. Heat crept up on my neck, and my throat tightened.
It was the Mother’s Day necklace I’d made for my mom after she’d died.
Jared and I had made fossils of our fingerprints one year to give to our moms. Using air dry clay, we made a thumbprint and hung the small oval piece from a ribbon, making a necklace. He gave his to his mom, and I had put mine on my mom’s grave. The next time I’d visited her, the necklace was gone. I figured it was lost or the weather had worn it away.
Turns out it was stolen. I looked to Jared, partly puzzled and partly angry.
“Good luck charm,” he offered, not meeting my eyes. “I took it a couple of days after you left it there. I thought it would be stolen or ruined. Kind of had it with me ever since.”
Letting it go, I looked out the window and tried to even out my breathing. I guess I was glad it still existed. But it was my mom’s, and he had no right to take it.
But he still had it? Even after everything. Why?
I made a mental note to get it back after the race.
“Are.We.Ready?” Zack’s voice startled me as he shouted to the crowd. They screamed through their beer drenched excitement.
Jared tuned the iPod to Bullet for My Valentine’s Waking the Demon. I gripped the steering wheel, using the music to clear my head and zone in.
“Ready?” Zack called out and I revved my engine, seeing Roman’s girl jump to rev her engine immediately after.
“Set?” Jared put one hand on the dash while turning up the music with the other.
“Go!” Zack dropped his arms.
Slamming on the gas, I peeled over the dirt road and took off. As the music filled the moment, my hands pushed against the steering wheel, so that my back dug into the seat. With my arms full of tension, I focused on the road ahead.
Shit! The car had a lot of power.
“The first turn comes up fast,” Jared warned. I didn’t know if the other car was next to me or behind me. All I knew was that it wasn’t in front of me, and I didn’t care about anything else. I would race this car without any opponent.
My thighs, dampened with sweat, grated across the seat as I lifted my leg to push in the clutch. I lightly applied the brakes in preparation for rounding the corner. As I let off the brake and made the first turn, the rear started to slide. I quickly steered to the right as the car slid left, to keep from skidding out. Dust clouded the track, and my heart was pounding. I stepped down on the clutch and shifted back into third gear. As my speed picked up and I shifted immediately into fourth, I caught sight of the other car in my rearview mirror.
“Hit the gas!” Jared shouted. “And don’t turn so hard. You’re losing time correcting yourself.”
Whatever.
“Who’s in first place?” I reminded him.
“Don’t get cocky.” Jared alternated between scoping the road and looking behind us to the Trans Am.
Sweat dripped from my brow and my fingers were exhausted from clenching the wheel so hard. Relaxing, I turned up the music and kicked us into sixth gear, bypassing fifth altogether.
This is awesome! The easy way the gas propelled the car forward felt like a space shuttle. Or so I assumed.
“Next turn is coming. You need to slow down.”
Yap, yap, yap.
“Tatum, you need to slow down.” Jared’s voice echoed somewhere in the back of my mind.
The turn was three seconds away, and the vibrations shooting through my legs prevented me from laying off the gas. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, I charged ahead.
Taking my foot off the gas, but not braking, I made a sharp left, and then skidded right, and then forced the wheel left again until I was straightened out. More dust flew around us, but I recovered quickly and slammed on the gas again. Looking behind us, I saw that the Trans Am had spun out around that turn and was now trying to recover. They were more than thirty yards behind us.
Yes!
“Don’t do that again,” Jared grumbled, now holding the dash with both hands as I stared down the road ready for more. The next turn came and went successfully no matter how much Jared wailed about slowing down.
For an a**hole and a rule-breaker, he really played it safe. And for someone who always played it safe, I’d turned out to be quite the rule-breaker.
As we advanced on the last turn with a significant gain, I slowed down to about thirty miles an hour and shifted down to third. Cruising around the bend at a comfortable speed without any skidding or dust, I looked over at Jared with a wide-eyed, innocent expression.
“Is this okay, Ms. Daisy?” Biting the corner of my mouth to keep from laughing, I noticed his eyes flash to my lips. Heat rose in his gaze, and tingles blossomed through my stomach and down to the sensitive area between my legs.
“Tatum?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Stop toying with your opponent and win the damn race already.”
“Yes’m, Ms. Daisy,” I retorted with my best Southern accent.
I cruised over the finish line at a safe and hilarious thirty-five miles an hour as I caught the Trans Am in my rearview mirror stuttering around the last turn. Clusters of people swarmed the car, but Jared and I stayed inside for a few moments.
Putting the car into neutral and lifting the e-brake, I leaned my head against the head rest and massaged the steering wheel. My pulse was still going a mile a minute, and I felt alive. That was the most exciting thing I’d ever done. Every nerve on my body felt like it was on a sugar high.
“Thank you, Jared,” I whispered, not looking at him. “Thank you for asking me to do this.”
I reached over and grabbed my mom’s necklace off the mirror and slipped it over my head.
When I looked over at him, he was leaning against his fist with a finger across his lips. What was he trying to hide? A smile?
Raking a hand through his hair, he opened his door, and the sounds of cheers and screaming rushed in like water into a sinking boat. Looking down at his boots, he shook his head. “Waking the demon….” he mumbled to himself, and I wasn’t sure what he meant.
Before he climbed out, he looked over at me again through hooded lids. “Thank you ,Tate,” he whispered.
The hair on my neck stood up, and my hands shook.
He hadn’t called me “Tate” since we were fourteen. Not since we were friends.
Chapter 23
Maci Feldman charged me once Ben and I had arrived at the bonfire. “That was awesome! My brother is like so unbelievably happy he won that bet.”
Bonfires were held on Marcus Hitchens’s property, on the banks of Swansea Lake, practically every week, especially following races and football games. The bitter cold of January and February was the only time when little happened, both at the lake and the Benson farm track.
“I’m glad I could help,” I responded. And it was true. Racing tonight had been the best time I’d ever had. “But I only won because the other girl had no idea how to drive a manual.”
Why did I say that? I rocked that race whether or not the twit knew what she was doing.
She hooked my arm, while Ben had his hand around my waist. Others came up to greet us, either to say “hi” to Ben or to congratulate me.
“Well, I for one would love to see you race again. How about you, Ben?” Maci addressed my date as he turned his attention away from his football buddies.
“I think I’m a lucky guy.” He peered down at me, and it didn’t escape my notice how he evaded the question. I wondered if it embarrassed him to have his date doing something the guys typically only took part in.
As it was already ten-thirty, I committed to staying for an hour before having Ben take me home. With the meet in the morning, I’d have to get home and rest whether I liked it or not.
“Great race tonight, Tate.” Jess Cullen patted me on the shoulder as she passed by.
“Thanks,” I exhaled, feeling unsettled with the attention.
“You alright?” Ben pulled me close.
“Absolutely,” I choked out before inching towards the refreshments. “Can we get something to drink?”
He held up his hand to keep me put. “Stay here, I’ll be back.” And he walked off to the keg.