Jett

 

Even in the bathroom this hotel is playing Christmas songs. I wash my hands and listen to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer for probably the fifth time since I got here a few hours ago. The entire hotel is decorated with fake snow and Christmas trees and lights hung up everywhere. The windows have Styrofoam snowflakes and every corner is packed with boxes wrapped to look like big presents. This place is so decorated, I’m not even sure I’d recognize it after the holidays are over and the decorations are taken away. But I guess travelers get a kick out of this kind of thing.

I could personally go without the cheesy Christmas music playing nonstop.

I’m about to leave the bathroom when I hear the sounds of girls talking outside the door.

“I saw Clay and Aiden and Zach, but I can’t find Jett anywhere,” one girl says.

“Are we sure he’s supposed to be here?” another one says.

“Facebook says all of them will be here,” the first one says. “That means Jett too!”

I take a step back from the door, hoping they leave soon. Ironic, how they’re looking for me and I’m right here on the other side of this door. What would they do if I stepped out right now?

I chuckle and back up again so if any guys come in here I won’t get face smacked by the door. While I’m stuck in here a few more minutes, I take out my phone and send Keanna another text telling her I miss her.

She writes back after a few minutes.

 

Keanna: So come hang out with me!

 

I sigh and stare at my phone. I wish I could. I like doing these fun promotional things with Team Loco, and when I was a kid this was the kind of thing I dreamed about. How it’s just hard being away from her. I would have brought her today but she had to take her parents to the airport. My parents left around the same time too, and they’re having a guy who works at The Track drive my dad’s truck back home.

I send her back a crying emoji and tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.

At the bathroom door, I listen carefully and don’t hear anyone. I slowly open it and step outside, looking into the hallway. There’s mostly people here who are travelling for the holidays and they don’t pay me any attention. To most people, I’m just some guy they don’t know about.

To the motocross community, I’m the rookie everyone’s keeping an eye out for. Jace Adams 2.0 as one magazine just called me. My dad cut out the article and taped it to our fridge, saying he’s proud of me for carrying on his awesomeness. I asked him if he’s always been that damn dorky and my mom confirmed that yes, he has.

I keep my head down and make my way back toward the conference room that the TV show has rented out for our interview. It’ll be shown on ESPN and a few extreme sports TV channels all over the country. Just thinking about it makes me all kinds of nervous. I get interviewed all the time, but it’s usually when I’m sweating and covered in dirt, fresh off my bike from a race. And those interviews are only shown on the big screen to the people in an arena where I’m racing.

This one is being taped and then broadcasted all over the place. At least it won’t be live. Hopefully if I fuck up they’ll cut the footage and let me try again.

“Oh my god, oh my god!”

I cringe, knowing that what follows a high pitched cry out to God is usually a girl wanting to talk to me. Sure enough, two of them, probably the girls from the bathroom, rush up to me with big smiles on their faces.

They’re a little younger than I am, I think. Maybe sixteen or seventeen. They’re both pretty but trying too hard, wearing a ton of makeup and those drawn on eyebrows that I’m not a fan of. I want to take girls like these and tell them that guys don’t like all that nasty makeup. It wears off on our pillows and it smells weird. Just be yourself, I wish I could say. Be like my girl who is pretty all the time, even when she’s covered in puke from her baby brother. Keanna’s eyebrows are normal, not penciled in like she’s a cartoon character. That’s just one of the many reasons I love my girl.

“Jett! Oh my God,” one of the girls says. She’s the taller one, with makeup so thick I could probably scratch my name into it.

I chuckle to myself and give them a polite smile. “Hi there.”

Just because these girls are all swoony and flirty with me doesn’t mean I should be rude. They’re fans, after all. They buy tickets to my races and they buy T-shirts with my name on them and they’re all part of the reason I still get to live out my dream. So, although I’m not really in the mood to be bombarded by fans right now, I’m still grateful for them.

“Kendra,” the tall one says, her lips stretched in a wide grin.

“I’m Monique,” the other girl says. “But you can call me Moni.”

“Nice to meet you Kendra and Moni,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. The last time I held out my hand for a normal handshake, a girl grabbed it and licked it. Now I keep my hands to myself.

“We’re huge fans,” Moni says. “I don’t want to like, bother you or anything but, could we get a selfie?”

I can tell she’s nervous as hell asking the question, and it makes me feel good on this superficial level that will totally go to my head if I let it. It’s annoying being chased down by girls who spout their undying love for you, but it’s also awesome when people care.

“Of course,” I say, flashing her a grin. “But only if you post it online saying I’m the best member of Team Loco.”

“Oh my God, duh,” Kendra says. “Absolutely. You’re our favorite. We already met the other guys but you’re the best.”

I take a selfie with Moni and then with Kendra and then I take another one with both of them. Since they’re being nice and not insane, I go ahead and wrap my arms around their shoulders for the third photo and both girls freak out about it, saying they’re never washing their shirts again.

Kind of weird, but still cool. I want to tell them I’m no one special. I’m just a guy who lucked out and was born to Jace Adams, a guy who used to be a famous motocross racer himself. Without my dad’s love of motocross, I’d just be some normal idiot kid without anything special about him.

My life, my fame, my career – I owe it all to my dad.

After a few more fan visits, I slip past the crowded lobby of travelers and make my way back to the conference room. This room is still packed, but it’s with the professionals from the TV crew and Team Loco, so at least these people aren’t dying for a picture with me.

Marcus nods at me as I walk by, and I give him a wave. Marcus is a great team manager in general, but I think he likes me the best out of the other rookies. I check the time on my phone and see that Keanna hasn’t written back yet. It’s also only seven minutes until we start filming.

I make my way to the couches that have been set up like a talk show stage for the filming today. Clay and Aiden are already sitting there, eyes closed as the makeup artists cover their face in a shine-free powder.

I’m starting to get nervous just like I always do before something like this. On the track, I’m free. I don’t get stressed or nervous or worry about how I look. But in front of a TV camera, it’s a whole different thing. I don’t want to embarrass the hell out of myself, and deep down, as embarrassing as it is, I want to seem cool enough for my fans to still like me.

I grab a water off the snack table to the side of the stage and drink half of it at once. As I make my way back toward the couches, I see a girl standing facing Zach, her hands in her back pockets exactly the way Keanna always stands.

Wait.

She girl turns to the side and laughs at something Clay says, and that’s when I realize it is Keanna.

All of my anxieties wash away as I rush up to her, throwing my arms around her waist as I hug her from behind.

She squeals. “Oh my God, Jett.” She puts a hand to her chest. Funny how those same words from Keanna melt my heart but make me cringe when random girls say it.

“You scared me!” she says, smacking my arm.

“Sorry, baby.” I turn her around in my arms, keeping her in front of me. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

She grins at me, her cheeks turning pink. “I was hoping you’d be happy and not like… annoyed.”

“Why would I be annoyed?”

She shrugs, looking down. “I dunno. I wanted it to be a surprise but then I thought maybe you’d think I’m clingy or something.”

I chuckle and kiss her forehead. “I want you everywhere I go,” I say, looking her in the eyes.

Her nervous smile turns into a real one and I kiss her quickly because now they’re calling us to the couches.

“Want to get ice cream after this?” I ask her as I’m moved to the couch and the makeup lady starts powdering my face.

Keanna curls her lip. “It’s freezing outside!”

“Okay so ice cream and hot chocolate?” I say with a wink. “That way it balances out.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure.”

Once I’m all powdered and a lady fixes my hair, I take my place at the end of the couch next to Aiden. Zach sits on the opposite end, closest to the lady who’s interviewing us. He talks more than any of us, so he’s the best one for that spot.

The producer comes up and holds out red Santa hats. “We thought it’d be cute if you guys wear these,” she says, handing each of us one. I lift an eyebrow and Keanna laughs into her hand from where she’s standing a few feet behind the cameras. Knowing that she thinks it’s funny makes me go with it.

I pull on the hat and so do my teammates. Now we look like a bunch of hardcore motocross racers with Christmas spirit.

Our host is Mia Matthews, a leggy brunette who married Dylan Matthews a few years before he retired from motocross racing because of a shattered knee. She’s famous in the motocross world for being a host of stuff like this and for interviewing guys on the race track.

She’s wearing a black miniskirt and a Christmas sweater, but no one makes her wear a Santa hat, probably because the makeup and hair ladies just spent an hour fixing her hair. She does some vocal exercises and then nods toward the cameras. “I’m ready.”

“Everyone ready?” the producer says. “We begin filming in three…two…one…”