Hmm, this is a tricky one. How do I tell her without landing myself in shit? Meghan will freak out if she knows I’ve been racing, so I go with some of the truth.
“I kissed her,” I blurt out, which is the truth, sort off.
“Okay … I can see why that would piss her off.” She regards me and I shift in my seat, growing uncomfortable under her inspection.
“I asked her to go for a ride with me.”
“Did she agree?” Meghan leans forward slightly.
“Sort of.”
Then sinks back in her seat. “What did you do?”
“Again with the lack of faith,” I exclaim, and she flashes me an apologetic look.
“Max …”
“Okay, some other girl got in the way and Causey pushed her toward me and she was the one who ended up riding with me.” The surprised look on Meghan’s face grows.
“What happened?”
“She looked like she wanted to knee me in the balls.”
“No wonder.” She blows out a slow breath. “You fucked up.”
“Fuck … I know.” I drop my head into my hands, not sure why this bothers me so much. Normally, I wouldn’t give two shits about pissing anyone off – certainly not some chick I’ve just met. But she’s not some chick. Don’t ask me how I know it, but I do. There is something about her. When she looked at me, shit, it was like a bolt of lightning cleared through all the bullshit, and she could see me, like really see me. I felt it, deep inside. Shit. What if I’ve blown my only chance with her? She doesn’t look like the type to take any shit, least of all mine. She has fierceness about her, and I want her in a way I’ve never wanted anything before. Well, except for maybe a car but … I’ve never wanted a girl the way I want her. This shit is fucked up; I don’t even know her. I’ve spoken to her for all of ten minutes; she could be a raving bitch for god’s sake. She didn’t want anything to do with me, which in itself says something; she’s passed that one test. I need to make it right.
Meghan rubs my shoulders soothingly before clapping me on the shoulder and pushing up to standing.
“Gotta wash this shit out of my hair.” I raise my head and watch her retreating figure. She pauses at the doorway to the bathroom before turning to look at me with a sympathetic smile on her face. “Whatcha gonna do?”
“I’ll figure something out,” I mutter, but my mind is already drawing a blank.
“Of course, you will. You always do. Soon, she’ll be eating out of your hand.” She winks at me and I force a smile, but my heart sinks.
Yeah, Leigh’s not like any of those other girls. They only see what I want them to see. It's never the real me, that way it’s easier to act like a dick and not get attached to anyone, never let them close. That way when we move on – and we always do – it’s no big deal. But I’m tired of that; this time, I do want to stick around, make friends, and fit in. Maybe even find a girl I actually like. Why is it that Leigh pops into my mind every time I have this thought? She might just be the girl for me if I can stop acting like a dick around her.
• • •
Waking up late the next morning, exhilaration courses through me at the memory of winning last night’s race. Not to mention the kiss I got from Leigh Storm, but then I remember the look in her eyes when I left with what’s-her-name. A chill ripples through me. It’s not that I wanted to. What I really wanted was to claim Leigh for myself in front of everyone. It’s only a matter of time before one of those dicks hanging around notices her. They were too busy drooling over the cars. Admittedly, there were some pretty sweet rides, like the Subaru I was racing or the Camaro. Even the Mustang Leigh was working on was a sweet ride. If I hadn’t already guessed she was into her cars, then that gave it away.
I’d love to see the ’69 Charger she drives, and when she uttered those words, ‘Can’t beat American muscle,’ my dick twitched in response. Dammit, why didn’t I take her with me last night? She would have made for a more interesting night. As it was, I drove into town with what’s-her-face and didn’t bother with the only pub, The Three Monkeys. Although I’m over twenty-one, she clearly wasn’t and it was the perfect excuse to ditch her. The way she pouted when I dropped her outside her house and denied her invitation to go inside, because her parents were in bed. She was harmless enough, but she wasn’t the snarky brunette I wished was with me. Call me an idiot, but I even drove back up to the quarter mile on the off chance she might still be there. But it was empty so I turned and drove home.