“I work in a garage, my dad is Hank Storm, and I’ve grown up in this town. Why wouldn’t this be my scene?”
Max stares at me a second longer, his dark eyes burning into me. But I refused to look away, and I continued to stand my ground.
“You racing?” He nodded his head in my direction. I don’t know what possessed me, but I opened my fat mouth and let my belly rumble.
“Yeah, I’m racing.” What the fuck? I didn’t race. I love cars, yeah, but I swore I would never race. And here I was agreeing to race because Max fucking Morgan goaded me into it.
“Good, my money’s on you.” He smiled widely at me and turned to walk back to his car and the girl he left draped over the side.
Holy fuck, what have I done? I was rooted to the spot, and I couldn’t move. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
“Leigh!” Beth squealed, and I finally turned around to see her and Aaron’s eyes bug out as they stared at me. Aaron’s mouth was hanging open, and for once, Beth was speechless.
“What did you just get us into?” He finally managed to speak.
“I didn’t get you into anything. This is all on me.”
“No, it’s not. Uncle Hank is going to shit a brick if he finds out I’ve let you race.” As always, Aaron played the overprotective card. Did they not realize that growing up without a mom, I had just my dad and a bunch of guys from his garage as role models? I didn’t need anyone to look out for me.
“Aaron.” I warned him, but he wasn’t listening.
“You’re racing. You said you would never race. What the fuck happened? He started to talk, that’s what happened, and the next thing I know, you agree to this.” He started to pace, which was irritating as hell.
“You also looked like you wanted to knee him in the balls,” Beth chipped in with a wicked smile on her face. She knew me so well.
“I did,” I confirmed, and her smile widened.
“Well, you have to race now. You can’t back down. Oh fuck, I’m going to get into so much shit.” Aaron rambled as he paced, wearing a path in the dirt.
“Aaron,” I said firmly, and he paused to look at me. “Calm the fuck down. I’ve got this. I’ll race and then that’s it.” Shaking his head at me, he continued to pace.
“It’s not that easy. You’re a good racer but that was karting. This is different.” And on and on he went.
Knowing that I wouldn’t get any sense out of him, I turned to Beth. “Get him out of here and calm him down. Let me check over Misty and make sure I’m not going to get killed over a mechanical error.” Her smile faltered, but she recovered it.
“You can do this, Leigh,” she reassured me, and I smiled because I had no doubt that I could. I just vowed that I never would.
Leaving Beth to deal with Aaron and his freak-out, I jogged over to Misty, my ‘69 Dodge Charger. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was what was under the hood that counted. My dad picked her up at auction; according to him, it was always going to be my first car. While most girls at school were getting BMWs or Mercedes as their first cars, I got this. It needed a full body re-spray and the interior could use some patching, but mechanically, she was sound.
Even now, I still laughed at people's reactions when Beth and I had pulled up to school after I’d gotten my license. There was a stunned silence as everyone stared. Neither of us gave a shit. All that glitters was not gold, as my dad would say. That was usually around the time that he would bring another junker into the garage.
Seeing as I was now racing, I popped the hood and carried out a cursory check, but I knew full well that she was ready to roll. As I slammed the hood, I noticed the slight quiver in my hand. Not good. Of all the things I thought I would feel, it wasn’t nerves, but what I’d agreed to was now starting to hit. Oh, shit. I sat on the driver’s side seat, feet resting outside the car on the ground, and put my head between my knees, taking a few deep breaths.
“What are you doing?” I looked up at the sound of Aaron’s voice. He was more in control now and didn’t have that wild, panicked look in his eyes anymore.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Are we ready?”
“Yeah.” He sulked, and I knew I was going to have to work hard to get back on his good side.
“Let’s go.” I swung my legs into the car, slammed the door, and fired up the engine. Beth gave Aaron one final kiss and moved out of the way to let him into his Mustang.
We drove slowly to the starting line and waited, our engines idling. Adrenaline coursed through me, making my limbs all warm and a little shaky. I turned to the left and flashed Aaron a wide, slightly crazy smile. He responded with one of his own, his earlier panic forgotten.