"Six Fifteen," I tell him and watch as he writes the number, my birthday, on the top of my windshield, then on my back window. He taps on the roof of my car. "All good. Drive safe!" The man gets back in his booth. I shift into gear and creep away slowly. The road isn't the smoothest and goes about half a mile before opening into a massive parking lot. The track is beyond the lot behind an eight-foot chain-link fence. Metal bleachers, similar to ones you find at a high school football field are to the right, in front of the starting line. There are a few concession stands behind the bleachers, with porta-potties not too far away from the picnic tables. The back of the parking lot is already getting full. I drive slowly through the lot, watching for people walking around when Taylor calls my name.
"Yeah?" I answer her but keep my eyes focused ahead.
"I love you, you know that right?"
"Uh. Yeah?" I glance at her, confused at where she's going with this. I hear her sigh and she continues, "You're my sister from another mister, and I know I told you I'd share Wes' penis with you, but I lied."
I burst out laughing. It’s loud, and obnoxious.
"I love you but his peen is mine."
"Oh my gosh, Tay..no worries. His peen is all yours." I pull in next to Wes' car, his number written on his window, which happens to be his and Taylor's anniversary date. Did I ever mention how grossly, disgustingly adorable they are? I pull the e-brake and look over at Taylor. She wipes the back of her hand across her forehead and blows out a large breath. Dramatic much? "Well whew, I am so glad we had this talk."
Her door is opened, and Wes helps her out of the car. I just shake my head, silently laughing to myself, and cut the engine. I get out, round the front of my car, and lean against the fender. The hood is open on Wes' car, as a couple of different racers wanted to see what he's got going on under there. It's shady if you don't want to show what you're running, and most likely people won't want to race you, especially when dealing with cash races. He talks while his arm is draped around Taylor's shoulders.
I tune out their talk and take in the surroundings. The bleachers are filling up, and I twist to look down by the finish line where some trucks are parked with people sitting on the tailgates. I bring my attention back to the racing lanes, people are already lining up. I'm watching them prep the track when I feel heat all along my right side. It's startling. I whip my head to find the cause of the sudden warmth. Chase is standing extremely close. So close, that if he moved another inch we'd be touching. He must notice my attention is now on him because he looks down at me, a wide smile breaking out over his face. That smile and his proximity turn my legs to jelly, but thankfully my car is helping me manage to stay on my feet. He leans in a little and says, "Hi," His voice is low and intimate like this ‘Hi’ is for me, and me only. His beautiful blue eyes are staring into mine, making me lose myself even more than I already am. I take in a deep breath, and out comes a breathy, "Hey," His face is closer now. I don't recall him moving in, but I can see his pupils dilate. I remember Taylor telling me--she is always reading these magazines--this little tidbit about the pupils dilating when someone is looking at someone they find attractive.
I bite the inside of my cheek to fight the giggle that wants to erupt from my mouth, which will no doubt make me look like a bumbling idiot. I wonder if he knows this fact; there's no doubt my pupils are the size of a quarter. I'm warm all over as his eyes move all across my face. The whole exchange lasted seconds, but it's something that will replay in my head for the rest of the night. Maybe even my life. He moves away, the smile slowly vanishing, and looks back at the group. I'm still staring at his strong beautiful profile, taking in his appearance. His buzzed hair. His fitted T-shirt, snuggling against his muscles. Is it weird to be jealous of a shirt? I shake my head to clear myself of my lust and glance back at the group.
Thankfully no one is paying us any attention. Not to mention, Wes' body is practically hiding me. In the short time we’ve been here, more people have gathered around, including a few race groupies. One girl is pressed up to Vance's side. Ugh. Gross. Vaughn's arm is slung around some girl--that girl is not Tracy. I shake my head.
A loud and high pitched revving breaks the conversation and causes everyone's head to turn. A handful of bikes--crotch rockets--go driving by. It is by far the most obnoxious thing in the entire world, but this particular group is just that. They are insane, rude and just bad news. It's unfortunate because their leader, if you want to call him that, is one guy who's not afraid of going head to head with my brothers. Dixon continues to harass me after I've turned him down every time. I think it's more to bother my brothers than anything. Rumor has it is that he deals drugs to afford parts for his bike. They continue to rev as they drive by. Chase leans into me but keeps his attention on the bikes. "Who are those clowns?"
"Dixon, and his crew."
He laughs and just shakes his head. I'm not sure what he's thinking. The bikes have passed and park down the lot. Everyone is back to talking to whoever they were before being interrupted. "Hellooo spectators!" the announcer comes over the loudspeaker. People in the bleachers scream, whistle, and cheer. "Let's get this show on the road!"
Two cars, both Mustangs, roll up to the starting line. I look at everyone, and their attention is on the cars. The loud revving snaps my attention back to the line, rightfully so. The older Stang is loud; louder than its opponent. You can see the car shake as its owner is giving it some gas. The newer Mustang is revving back. Seconds later they're flying down the track. It's over almost as soon as it started. The scores flash up on the boards near the end of the track. The older Mustang wins with a slightly better time. Cheering from the stands erupts, most likely the driver’s friends or family. Suddenly Dixon is next to me, pulling me to his side.
"Hey, baby," he says.
"Dixon,” I roll my eyes, “get off me." I try to push his arm off, but he just squeezes me to him.
"Awe, babe. Don’t be like that." This is exhausting.
"For the millionth time, don't call me that." I turn and duck under his arm. He doesn't try to grab me again, but he's smiling because it's just fun to him. I feel Chase at my back, and my brothers are rounding Wes' car.
“Dixon, get your ugly ass outta here," Vance says as he stops two feet in front of Dixon, my brothers, and Wes at his back. Dixon looks at me and back at my brothers, "Hey Vance, nice to see you too! Your sister happens to like my ugly ass."
"Shut up Dixon, and move along," Vin cuts in. Dixon puts his hands up in submission. "Okay. Okay. I'm going." He looks at me and winks, "I'll see you later doll face."
"Not happenin' dickface," Vance spits out. I wave goodbye as he turns and walks away. I watch him go, as do my brothers. Dixon is really attractive and, worse yet, he knows it. He has this ‘James Dean’ look to him. He's an asshole and has probably slept with more girls than my brothers combined...not to mention his chosen profession. It's a shame. My brothers move away, but I can still feel Chase at my back. I turn to face him.
"He do that often?" His eyes still on Dixon.