Trading Paint (Racing on the Edge) (29 page)

Jameson sighed when his breathing returned to normal and sat up wrapping his arms around his knees to stretch. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked looking back at me; still sprawled out in the grass.

“Charlie and I are going to dinner.”

“Oh yeah,” he leaned back on his elbows beside me. “Let’s go have lunch then.”

“I could eat.”

And so we went to eat. That’s how simple it was with us. No questions, no awkward moments, just two friends. Sure, I was feeling something for him that I associated with love but it was awkward like you’d think it would be. I think he got that from Nancy. I just felt at ease around him.

Displacement – Jameson

My alarm clock blared loudly in my ear as my head was right next to it.

Sweet love of sleep, why did I ever purchase that thing?

I whacked my arm in the general direction I thought it would be; it fell to the floor, but continued making that obnoxious sound. I had to hang off the side of the bed to reach it but wasn’t successful so I just yanked hard on the cord and ripped the motherfucker out of the wall.

That wasn’t enough for my little temper tantrum so I chucked it across the room and it shattered against the wall. My first thought was holy shit, what a piece of shit was it that it shattered on impact but judging by the dent in the drywall, I may have thrown it a little too hard.

I rolled over on my back throwing my arms over my eyes, willing myself to go back to sleep. Alley assured me that didn’t happen when she threatened to send Spencer in my room if I missed my flight.

After showering and getting dressed, I let her in my room. I knew she meant business by the way her glasses were pushed up on her narrow nose, her yellow note pad in hand.

“Your flight leaves at nine tomorrow from SeaTac. Justin, Tyler and Ryder will meet you at gate C. From there you guys will pick up the rental car and head to the track.” Alley flipped her note pad over. “The track is located twenty-five minutes from Los Angeles in the San Gabriel Valley.”

I nodded and shoved a few t-shirts in my bag. “When do I come back?”

“Your flight leaves on Friday morning.”

I was attending the Turkey Night Grand Prix at Toyota Speedway once again in
Irwindale
, California.

So far, I’ve been there four years in a row and had yet to win it. I wanted that win. My dad has won the event eight times. All eight times he’s gone. I was both happy and depressed to see he wasn’t going. Instead, he was in Australia racing sprint cars and wouldn’t be back until the Chili Bowl.

Turkey Night was an annual national race held on Thanksgiving Day. The first one was held in 1934 so it was a tradition. The only years they didn’t hadn’t held it at various tracks in southern California was during the war years. It was more than a tradition to racing though. Families and racers showed up and camped out. The fans cooked Thanksgiving Dinner and served it to the racers, mechanics and team members at these large picnic tables.

The greatest midget racers around the world attended this event each year so to me, it was a chance to see how I stacked up against the competition. I knew I’d gotten better over the last year; that was evident when I watched highlights from this past summer. Now was a chance to test it out.

I wanted drivers like Justin West, Tyler Sprague and Ryder Christiansen there. I wanted them there because to me, they were the best USAC racers out there. If I won against them and the other midget racers, that meant something.

I needed a break from my family and I didn’t feel an ounce of sadness when Emma and Spencer stayed home.

Spencer, who asked Alley to marry him during an argument, was now planning a wedding. Those two did not need to be married but who was I to judge that. I know they told me the date of the wedding but I silently hoped I had
other
plans. Attending a wedding was not something I wanted to do. It just didn’t appeal to me.

Glancing around my room to make sure I didn’t forget anything, I reached for my cell phone. There was a message from Sway telling me good luck. I asked her to come with me but she said she needed to spend some time with Charlie and with the race being on Thanksgiving, she didn’t want to leave him. I couldn’t blame her.

While I played puppet to sponsors this last season racing four nights a week, the rest of our team, Sway included, was just as exhausted from the temper tantrums; mood swings and whatever else I subjected the poor bastards to. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I heard the phrase: “You’re an asshole.”

So I welcomed traveling alone.

I was racing Bucky’s midget that Bowman Oil, Sound Logistics and my new sponsor Skinner Welding was sponsoring for me.

Bucky lined up a crew. It was a good setup and all I needed to do was show up and drive.

I got to keep sixty percent of whatever I won. That seemed good to me but then again it was never about the money. I didn’t do any of this for the money; I did it for myself. I wanted to know I was the best and races like Turkey Night or The Chili Bowl confirmed that. Sadly I wasn’t making it to the Chili Bowl this year. I’ve been numerous times with my dad but had yet to race it. That was my next goal.

Mom cried when I left because she wanted me there for Thanksgiving dinner. She knew exactly why I was doing it though and ended up fixing Thanksgiving dinner earlier in the week for me.

The race was on Thursday, Thanksgiving, so I left that Wednesday morning which put me in California that afternoon.

I met the guys where I was supposed to, an hour late. I was never timely while traveling through an airport. I was lucky security hadn’t detained me after I told a flight attendant that she could suck my dick because I wasn’t checking my goddamn bag.

I had a real problem with all their damn restrictions. I barely had anything in that bag and yet she wanted me to check it, I don’t think so. I don’t know if I scared her by telling her to suck my dick or if she was tempted but regardless she didn’t call security and left me alone for the remainder of the flight.

“It’s about fucking time!” Justin grumbled hoisting himself from the metals chairs they were sitting on. “What took you so long?”

I shrugged and gave them a blank expression. I didn’t think I was that late until they informed me I was an hour late. I blamed the flight attendant.

We went to dinner that night as none of us were old enough for a bar yet so that left us at an Applebee’s.

“I have to ask,” Tyler began smiling and I knew what he was going to ask. It was the same question everyone asked, “What’s with you and Sway?”

I dug the heel of my palms into my eyes and sighed heavily with my arms resting against the table. The rest of the guys chuckled. “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“Are you together or is it just like friends or something with benefits?”

“What?”

“Oh, well, I saw you two
...
I don’t remember when but you two were drunk and well I just thought
...
” his voice trailed off when I groaned.

“It’s not like that with us, we haven’t
...
it’s just not like that.”

“My god!”
Tyler nearly shouted causing a few kids to turn and look toward us. “What is wrong with you, why haven’t you? She’s fucking hot!”

“Do you mind?” a woman’s voice demanded beside us. “There are children present.” Those fucking snot nosed brats beside us were hardly kids and judging by the appearance of their parents, I highly doubted they were subjected to proper language.

We all nodded but you couldn’t expect a group of guys like us to behave let alone keep our voices down or censor our language.

I glared sharply at Tyler. “If you want to keep your good looks you won’t ever say that again.”

Tyler just laughed at my threat.

“But you want it to be?” Justin continued, still laughing at me.

Why they found this funny was lost on me.

“I don’t know what I want anymore.” I grumbled picking at my fries.

“Didn’t you fuck that Erin chick?” Tyler questioned taking a large bite of his hamburger.

The woman shushed us again. Ryder started laughing at my expression of pure disgust that her snot nose kid sneezed on my goddamn arm.

I dumped my entire glass of water over my arm to wash off the rheum.

“Who in the fuck is Erin?” Once again, the woman shushed us so I turned around in my seat to face her. “Fuck you, sit somewhere else if this bothers you!” I turned toward Tyler. “Who’s Erin?”

“That chick from Banks,”

I racked my brain trying to remember who Erin was but then again I never knew any of their names. I didn’t care to. If I recalled correctly, Erin was the trophy girl the night my engine blew and we used the one out of that guy’s mustang.

“Oh, yeah
...
I guess so.” I finally answered.

Justin let out another laugh and leaned back in his chair stretching his arms over his head. “You either did or didn’t.” his voice was muffled from his yawning. “It
ain’t
that complicated.”

“What is wrong with you guys?” I barked. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

I was never one to share personal details and I wasn’t about to start now. I didn’t do the whole kiss and tell thing, Spencer used to and I saw how many times that back fired on him throughout the years but most of all, I was just private about that sort of thing.

“Hey we
gotta
get the dirt somewhere,” Tyler said. “None of us are
gettin
’ any and you seem to have the largest following.
Must be the eyes.”

“Yeah, it’s the eyes.” Ryder commented in a voice I was sure would be considered gay.

This surprised me for a number of reasons, not that Ryder could make his voice sound that feminine but that they didn’t sleep around. I thought for sure Tyler and Ryder would be. I also knew I was the last person Ryder would talk about this with after I found out that he took my sister’s virginity this last summer.

Justin was head over heels for that Ami girl so I didn’t feel I could connect with any of them.

“I’m sure you two have had your fair share.” I said.

“Nah, I have a girl.” Ryder said in a normal manly voice again, well, normal for his pint sized being. “And no, it’s not your sister.” He added.

Tyler never answered but I saw him leave with a few at times so I knew damn well he wasn’t perfect.

Thankfully, the conversations changed to racing because I’d had enough questioning into my relationship with Sway. I couldn’t answer the questions because I myself had no idea what our relationship was.

Texts messages were something fairly new now and I got ones from Sway, mom, Emma, dad, Spencer and even Tommy wishing me good luck the night of the race.

They all made me smile but Sway’s hit home when I read it.

Thinking of you right now.
I have no doubt in my mind you’ll win tonight.

I felt an unfamiliar ache when she wrote the words “
thinking of you.”
I hoped like hell she was and then that scared me. I was all sorts of a mess during the drivers meeting but calmed down when I was around the boys.

The format for the race was a little different; they ran both midgets and sprints that night with a 98-lap midget main event.

I ended up qualifying sixth, Justin got fast time while Tyler got fourth and Ryder ended up tenth.

When the green flag dropped for the main, I was on a mission feinting my way to the lead.

Justin had pulled away to a good lead around lap thirty-five when I caught him. He seemed to be using up his tires because I passed him with ease and that wasn’t normal for him. Justin started strong and stayed strong. I should have known he wouldn’t stay back there for long and with ten laps to go
he
and Tyler were all over me.

I held my ground but with one lap to go, Tyler came on strong and passed us both like we were sitting still.

Now I can’t say I wasn’t pissed because I was. I wanted to win Turkey Night just as bad as the next guy but to have a guy like Tyler who struggled each weekend just to make it to these races for lack of sponsorship, win was fine with me. I was proud of him. He deserved it.

I ended up second with Justin third. Ryder blew a tire half way through and then pegged the wall so he finished near the rear somewhere.

Despite all this, we were all celebrating with Tyler that night and eating turkey. We put our own envy aside and showed respect and goodwill for the seventeen-year old kid from Birmingham, Alabama.

We all had a lot of respect for each other going back to our days racing quarter midgets. I think we all developed a real appreciation for our talents.

The hardest part about wanting to win so badly was that it would mean beating another guy, in this case a friend of mine, who deserved that same win just as bad. He got it that night.