Keanna

 

While the summer time is always busier than usual at The Track because kids are out of school for summer, it’s even worse on Fridays. I’m guessing it’s because the parents who take their kids to ride can only take off work once a week and Friday is the best day for that. Not to mention, Fridays are the days Jett heads to the airport every week. So, in a world where most people love Friday, I’m beginning to resent it.

Try as I might, I can’t hold back the yawn that pries open my mouth. It’s the fourth one in just a few minutes, and I feel like a terrible employee. I’m working the front desk at The Track today, and we have five people in line right now.

“That’ll be twenty dollars,” I tell the older man standing in front of me. He reeks like cigar smoke and the coveralls he’s wearing are smeared with oil and dirt, meaning he probably just got off work himself before he brought his two kids up here to ride for the day.

He reaches into his wallet and hands me a fifty, so I open the cash register to get his change.

The two boys who are with him are dressed in identical red riding gear, and I’m still trying to decide if they’re twins are just brothers who look a lot alike. One of them looks up at me.

“Why is this place called The Track?” he asks as I hand his dad the change.

“Because it’s a dirt bike track?” I say.

The other one laughs. “But that’s a stupid name. Other tracks are called Oakcreek and Ultimate Motocross.”

I shrug. “Don’t blame me, kid. I didn’t name the place.”

The dad smiles at me and then they leave as the next person steps forward in line. It’s been so busy, I didn’t even recognize D’andre standing there all this time. He’s one of Jett’s best friends, and he loves riding motocross even though he’s not at a professional skill level or anything.

“Hey!” I say, happy for a familiar face. “You didn’t have to wait in line.”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind. To be honest, I don’t even want to ride today.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

He shrugs again and steps to the side, motioning for the two older women behind him to move up. “Y’all can go ahead of me,” he says.

The women hand me their money and sign in quickly. They’re in their forties and have been riding their whole lives. They come in at least three times a week.

“Have fun, ladies,” I say, waving as they walk back outside.

D’andre waits while I take care of the remaining customers, and then he rests his elbows on the counter. I get the feeling he’d rather chat instead of ride right now.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “And why bother bringing your bike up here if you don’t want to ride?”

He shrugs. He’s done pretty much nothing but shrug since he got here. “I don’t know, Key. I’m just… blah.”

I frown. “It’s summer time. You should be happy.” Then an idea hits me that’s so sad it can’t possibly be true. “Wait…” I eye him suspiciously. “You and Maya…”

He shakes his head. “Nah, we’re good. Perfect, actually.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Good.”

Maya is D’andre’s girlfriend and she’s pretty much my only real friend besides the girls from college, who still haven’t texted me all summer. Maya and D’andre make a cute couple and I’d hate to see them split up.

I lean on my elbows from the other side of the counter until I’m eye level with him. “So why are you so sad?”

“Maya just left to visit her family in Maine.” He frowns and stares at his truck keys as if they’re fascinating. “She’s going to be gone for eight weeks.”

“Damn.” I pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know how I’ll survive without her for so long,” he says, standing up straighter. He goes to shove his hands in his pockets, but he’s wearing riding pants which don’t have pockets, so he just settles for slumping his shoulders. “I’m in love with this girl, Key. I can’t stand being away from her.”

“Trust me, I know how it is.” I grimace. “Jett leaves me every weekend and it’s freaking hell. He’s actually about to head up to the airport any minute now.” I glance at the clock on the computer screen. It’s noon and he’s leaving at 12:15. My chest aches and that hollow spot that appears when he’s gone has already wallowed out a spot inside my ribcage.

“We should hit up a movie this weekend and be miserable together.”

I laugh. “Sounds like a good idea. If I ever get off babysitting duty, I’ll call you.”

He nods, then opens up the wallet he’d set on the counter. “It’s ten bucks on Fridays, right?”

I wave my hand at him. “Today’s ride is on the house. Go ride until you’re not as sad anymore.”

He grins. “Thanks, Key.”

“Aww man, did I miss D’andre?” Jett asks a few minutes later. His sudden voice startles me since he’d came up from the back hallway and not the front door where I’m facing.

I turn around and see him staring out the window to where D’andre is driving his truck toward the back part of the track.

“Yep,” I say, throwing my arms around Jett’s strong torso. “And I forbid you to go chase him down and talk.”

“Why’s that?” he asks with a chuckle.

I press my cheek to his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. I’m immediately jealous that anyone on the plane sitting next to him will get to smell the same scent. “Because I want to stay right here holding you until your Uber gets here.”

His hands slide down my back until his fingers slip into my back pockets. “Sounds like a plan. I’d rather cuddle with you than D’andre anyhow.”

We have to break apart a minute later when another customer arrives. I check him in and then as soon as he leaves, I turn back to Jett, finding him sitting on the stool behind the computer, a dejected look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He lifts his shoulders. “I’m not feeling too confident about this race. I got like, zero practice this week.” He shakes his head, his neck muscles tight. “I’m just worried about it.”

“Well, you won the first three races so you’re allowed to not win this one. You’ll still be better ranked than the other guys.”

His tongue slides around the inside of his cheek and he stares off at nothing instead of looking at me. “I know it won’t technically matter, but I have this—like, dream—of having a total winning streak for this series. I’d be the first rookie to do it. With something like that under my belt, I’d be open to even better sponsorships and opportunities next year. I could finally be the guy the articles brag about.”

I give him a look. “Babe, you’re already bragged about in magazine articles.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m always the subject of articles called ‘Is this the new rising star of motocross?’ or ‘Jett Adams is the Rookie to Look Out For’.”

He rolls his eyes. “I want an article called, ‘Jett Adams is the Best Racer of the Year.’ No speculation, no watch lists. Just a definite, real, truth to it.”

I lean forward and wrap my arms around him, pulling him against my chest. He makes this pleased noise when his face presses against my boobs, and I laugh. “Baby, you are the best. Think of how many guys would kill to have any article written about them! You’ve got tons of people talking about you, and it’s all good stuff.”

He sighs. “I know you’re right. But that doesn’t stop me from worrying about this stupid race.”

“So don’t worry about it,” I say, running my hand through his dark hair. “Just take life as it comes and see what happens.”

His lips quirk up in the corners. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He shakes his head. “No possible way.”

We kiss and I hold onto the moment for as long as I can, but soon his phone beeps.

“My car is here,” he says, frowning just before he kisses me on the nose. “I’ll miss the hell out of you.”

“I’ll miss the hell out of you more,” I say with a teasing grin as I walk him to the door where a red Ford Escape is waiting for him. We get one more kiss and one lingering hug, and then he’s gone again.

Later, when The Track is finally closed and I’ve given Elijah a bath so Mom can relax a bit, I dress my little brother in the cutest onesie ever. It’s blue and slightly fuzzy, and has monster eyes all over it, making him look like a monster baby. Very, very cute. I kiss his head, which smells like baby powder, and sit in the rocking chair in his nursery, holding him tightly swaddled up in a blanket while I rock him to sleep.

Elijah’s bedroom is like a child’s dream come true. My parents had it designed with this huge built in fake tree. The branches rise up the walls and to the ceiling where it’s covered with silk leaves and little fake birds and animals. The main trunk of the tree is in the corner of the room, with a hole at the bottom where you can crawl inside and have your own playhouse. When Elijah gets older, he’s going to absolutely love it. I can already imagine the books I’ll read to him while we’re inside that tree with little Christmas lights strung up for ambiance. His life is going to be an absolute dream.

It won’t be anything like my childhood with my real mother was, I’ll make sure of that.

After he’s asleep, I snapchat with Jett for a little while before I finally convince him to get to bed. It’s not as late in Washington as it is here, but he still needs his sleep so he’ll be rested for tomorrow’s practice all day.

I’m feeling particularly woozy and lovesick as I brush my teeth and get ready for bed. There’s something about that boy that drives me crazy in all the right ways. I love him so much it physically hurts.

There’s a light on in the living room, and I walk in to find my mom sitting with her feet dangling off the edge of the recliner while she reads a book.

“Hi, honey,” she says, smiling up at me as I walk in the room.

“Can’t sleep?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I’m just enjoying some me time, even though I’m exhausted.” She slips her bookmark into the book and then closes it in her lap. “How was your day?”

I sit in the couch next to her. “Is there something wrong with me, like…mentally?” I ask. This makes her eyebrows shoot up, so I clarify. “It’s Jett… I mean… he leaves every weekend this summer and I know it’s coming and I know he’ll be back… I should be used to it by now, right? But my chest hurts and my stomach aches and I just hate it when he’s gone. I miss him so much. Earlier today I wanted to sneak over to his house and smell the clothes in his closet just to feel like I was near him.”

She chuckles and gives me that warm motherly smile that I love seeing. It means she cares about me, not just as a person, but way deep down where it matters. She treats me like real family.

“Honey… you’re not crazy. And there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“It certainly feels like something’s wrong,” I say with a sigh. I press my hand to my chest. “It just hurts so bad when he’s gone.”

She watches me with this expression I can’t quite place, but it’s a nice one, I think. “Keanna, sweetheart. You’re in love. That’s all there is to it.”