Supercross Me (Motocross Me #2)

by Cheyanne Young

  “I was as supportive as I could be, but then you totally ignored me in that stupid interview,” I said, no longer trying to force back the anger in my chest. “How am I supposed to sit here and pretend everything is fine when clearly you don’t want to be with me?”

  “What would make you think that?” Ash said, his voice breaking. “I love you! And that interview was one damn mistake. I’ve apologized for it a million times. You have to let it go or you’re going to ruin us.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. Every part of my body screamed for me to stop, to shut the hell up and run into Ash’s arms. But something had taken ahold of me now, and it was stronger than my heart was. “You’re the one who ruined us, Ash.”

  He flinched and then straightened himself to his full height. “Is that really what you think?”

  No.

  “Yes.”

  He sighed, staring at the floor for an uncomfortable length of time. “Okay,” he said, resigning. “I guess we’ll just end this now.”

  No.

  I blinked. “I guess we will.”

  He turned to leave and I should have stopped him.

  The door closed behind him with a resounding click that told me we were over, officially. I waited a beat and then rushed to the door, wanting to throw it open and apologize. But what would be the point? We’d just fall apart again, in some other heartbreaking scene in the future. I twisted the doorknob and opened it just an inch, silently watching while my first love walked away.

  He reached the end of the hallway and stopped. My heart went cold, the sudden rush of hope sparking up my insides. But he didn’t turn around. He reached into his pocket and took out a small black box. Staring at it for a minute, he dropped it into the trashcan and left.

  I raced down the hallway, my heels clacking on the tiled floor. The box was sitting on top of a pile of old fast food bags and I grabbed it, feeling the velvety exterior. Once I was safely back in my dorm room, I held the box with shaking hands and opened the lid.

  It was a silver necklace. The pendant was a dirt bike number plate, the number three-three-six on it. My eyes filled with tears as I turned it over in my hand. Hana & Ash was engraved on the back.

  This was better than flowers.

  I guess breaking up made sense now. I didn’t deserve Ash Carter.

  Chapter 27

  Regionals Race Day

  It’s four in the morning and I am awake five minutes before my alarm. My body knows the drill by now. I throw off the covers and make my way downstairs. I grab a granola bar and scrawl a note telling Teig good luck, then leave it taped to the bathroom door. I go through all of the same motions as I would on any other race day, only this time I’m doing them alone. There’s no Molly in the kitchen making breakfast burritos, and Dad isn’t already at the track flipping on light switches and brewing coffee. Today, it’s all up to me and the small staff at Mixon Motocross Park.

  A loud knocking on the front door makes me jump and stub my toe on the pantry door. I’d been reaching for a third granola bar, which was doing nothing to cure my morning hunger like one of Molly’s burritos does.

  Door-to-door salesmen don’t come around before the sun is up, so it’s probably Marty stopping by for some reason. I amble over there, actually craving some coffee for the first time in my life, and pull open the door.

  Shelby waits on the welcome mat, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Hana . . . Fisher,” she says, uncrossing her hands and putting them on her hips. “I don’t know your middle name or that would have sounded more menacing.”

  “What the hell did I do to you?” I ask, a smile playing on my lips so she knows I’m not really upset. She bends down and retrieves two Starbucks coffees that she’d set by her feet and hands me one.

  “Did you put these on the ground just so you could cross your arms when I opened the door?” I ask.

  She nods. “I had to because I’m mad at you. Well, disappointed, more like.”

  I roll my eyes and take a sip of the coffee, wondering how she knew I’d need this caffeine boost to get through the day. It tastes delicious, hot and sugary with a hint of creamer. Shelby can order a good cup of coffee. Not that I’m willing to admit to liking the stuff just yet.

  I let her inside. “What did I do?”

  “You’ve completely shut me out of what’s going on with your dad!” Her knuckles turn white over the paper sleeve of her coffee cup and she shakes her head. I realize now that she’s wearing a Mixon Motocross shirt and the old running shoes she wears when she works at the track. “I can’t believe the races are still going on! You guys should have cancelled it. But I had to find out from Dorothy when I went to visit Mr. Fisher at the hospital last night. She said she was worried to death about you and Marty because you’ve been working yourselves like crazy. I thought we discussed at dinner the other day that you need to slow down.”

  She peers down at me because she’s a little taller than I am, and something inside of me writhes in agony. Her disappointed expression looks so much like her twin brother’s and I can’t stand this. “Sorry I haven’t talked to you much lately. It wasn’t on purpose, I’ve just been so busy. And I know you wanted me to slow down but I can’t. This race has to go on.”

  “Why didn’t you just cancel the race? Your dad’s health is more important.”

  I shake my head. “Since this is a Regionals race, it’ll earn more than half of our yearly income from this weekend alone. I couldn’t just cancel the race and have Dad’s financials screwed up for the rest of the year. God knows how much his medical bills are going to cost, you know?”

  She frowns and sips her coffee. “I guess that makes sense. Mr. Fisher was doing okay last night when I saw him. He’s still all sedated and everything, but Molly said he was doing good.”

  I stare at my name, scrawled in black marker on the side of the coffee. “I just know that if we can pull off this race, then Dad will be proud. It’ll be one less stress for him to come home to. So yeah, thanks for the coffee, but I have to get to work.”

  “You mean we have to get to work,” she says, donning a grin that also reminds me of her brother. “I’m here for you, Hana.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  We gather some things for work and decide against taking one of our vehicles to the track since there will be so many racers and spectators today that parking will be limited. It’s much easier just walking across the dew-covered grass, no matter how much I hate the icky feeling on my legs.

  “I feel like we haven’t talked in forever,” Shelby says while we walk. “What’s up with you and Ash?”

  “You’ve been dying to ask that, haven’t you?” I let out a chuckle that sounds way more lighthearted than I feel. “I don’t think there’s anything up with us. His career is literally on the line right now, so we haven’t talked much.”

  “Yeah, he said if he doesn’t get a good finish time at tonight’s race, then he’s screwed. I’ve got it set to record on the DVR in case I’m here too late to see it. God, I hope he does well.”

  “Me too,” I say, and it’s only kind of a lie. I do want him to succeed. I just wish his career didn’t take him away from me. The second the words cross my mind I feel like an epic asshole for being so selfish. Ash deserves all of the success in the world. If only I wasn’t so stupid to have let him slip away.

  “Still, I kind of thought something was going on between you last time he was here,” she says. “Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.”

  My stomach tightens when I remember our frenzied kiss that night, the feel of his hands on me after months of being without him. But that was all it was—a lapse of judgment between two former lovers. Right? Ash has only sent me a few texts in the last few days, most of them asking how my dad is doing. “Yeah, I don’t think Ash wants to be anything more than friends with me.”

  “Oh.” Shelby kicks an acorn across the wooden bridge. “Well call me crazy, but you two were holding hands last time he was h
ere. That’s not exactly a friend thing.”

  I sigh. “I’d be lying if I said I maybe, sort of, kind of, wish that we were starting up again.”

  Shelby stops in her tracks. “I knew it!” When I keep walking, she hurries to catch up. “I mean, I don’t even understand why you guys broke up in the first place. You’re obviously soul mates. I’m so glad you’re finally admitting it.”

  I level a glare at her. “I’m not going to tell you things if you’re going to act like that.”

  “I’m cool,” she says, holding up her hands. “I won’t make a big deal about it, but I’m telling you, Ash feels the same way. You two just need to get together and make amends already.”

  “Right. Because that’s so easy to do when he’s never here.”

  Shelby reaches for my hand and gives a squeeze. “He’ll be here. Eventually.”

  *

  The air is alive with the buzz of race day. The smell of high-octane fuel mixes with the sweetness of the wildflowers that grow along the sides of the track’s biggest jumps. People are everywhere, from proud grandmas in massive sunhats on the bleachers, to kids in full body motocross gear with helmets so huge they look like colorful alien heads walking around. Dads run around fixing bikes and refueling gas tanks while Moms administer bandages to scraped elbows and apply sunblock to the tops of noses.

  I stand on the roof balcony at the top of the score tower, gazing out at this massive gathering of motocross racers and fans from all over the state. Marty is making the pre-race announcements below me, and at the front gates Shelby and Dorothy are signing in the long line of spectators. The ambulance guys have staged themselves near the track in case anyone gets hurt. Our flaggers are all stationed around the track, and the first moto is lining up at the gate. The American flag whips through the air, and everyone turns their attention toward it as Alyson begins to sing the anthem.

  My walkie-talkie rests on my hip, silent for the last half hour. Everything is running smoothly. From my vantage point three floors high, I smile at the event below me. I feel like I could take on the freaking world.

  The gate drops and the races begin. I know Teig is getting ready for his race in the fifth moto, so I’ll head down there to give him a high-five in a few minutes. But for now, I just want to breathe in the warm summer air and admire everything we’ve accomplished while Dad was in the hospital.

  My phone rings, the familiar jingle of the Skype app. For a brief second, I think Ash is calling me since we used to Skype all the time when we were dating. I don’t have time to let my stomach get twisted up in knots before I see Molly’s name on the screen.

  “Hey,” I say, answering the video call.

  Molly’s eyes are dark orbs in the dim hospital lighting, but when she bursts into a smile, the whole screen lights up with her. “How are things going?”

  “Things are running perfectly so far,” I say. “You don’t need to worry about us, okay?”

  “Oh I’m not worried.” Molly’s eyes dart to something off the screen and then she gives me a mischievous look. “Someone is awake and wants to talk to you.”

  “Dad!” my question is more of a shout. The screen blurs and then my dad’s face comes into view. He’s lying back on his hospital bed but for once, his eyes are open.

  “Hi, honey.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. “Dad, you’re awake.” It’s all I can say before I choke up. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve felt better,” he says, glancing at Molly at then grinning. “But for almost dying, I guess I can’t complain.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not there,” I say, turning around to lean my back against the balcony’s railing. “I can probably leave right now and get there soon.”

  He shakes his head. “Nah, honey. You stay there. Molly told me what you and Marty and the rest of the crew are doing. I couldn’t be more proud of you, Hana.”

  “Save your pride for after the races,” I say with a laugh. “There’s still plenty of time for everything to go to hell.”

  “I have faith in you. I always knew you’d be able to run this place after I was gone.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You’re not allowed to be gone any time soon, okay? One heart attack is enough. I’m going to make sure Molly keeps feeding you healthy food from now on.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. She’s already lectured me on all of our upcoming lifestyle changes. I’ll let you get back to work, Hana. I just wanted to say hi now that I’m awake.”

  “Okay, Dad. I love you.”

  “I love you, sweetheart.”

  The call ends and the sound of someone climbing the stairs to the roof balcony makes me spin back around to face the track. Dammit. I’m standing here all whimpery because I just talked to my dad who almost died. The last thing I want to do is small talk with some spectator. I slide my phone into my back pocket and wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes.

  Pretending to be incredibly interested in the track before me, I watch the first moto complete their laps. Maybe whoever it is will walk to the other side of the roof and leave me alone. Of course, now that word has gotten out about Dad’s heart attack, and the track’s Facebook page has mentioned that Jim’s daughter will be running the show today, it seems like everyone wants to talk to me.

  The stranger’s footsteps walk directly toward me. I stiffen, my hands going immediately into fists.

  “Hana?”

  The voice freezes every cell in my body. There’s no freaking way.

  I turn around, slowly, my eyes focused on the floor. If this is just a trick of my mind, some sick cruel joke conspired by my brain and heart working against me, I will lose it. His hand reaches out and takes mine, breaking the spell that had kept me from looking up.

  When my eyes meet his, I know this can’t possibly be real. He should be in California racing to keep his career intact. Maybe he’s a mirage, a figment of my imagination, appearing because I want him so badly that I’ve gone completely insane and gained the power of hallucination.

  “Ash?” I whisper, expecting him to poof into thin air.

  His head dips down as he pulls my hands forward and around his back until our bodies meet. His lips hover over mine, his breath minty and warm on my skin. I know without a doubt, that he is real.

  And he’s right here in Mixon, Texas.

  Chapter 28

  Ash’s hands slide up my arms, then tuck behind my waist. My back presses against the balcony railing. His dreadlocks cast a shade over my face. In the distance, Marty’s voice rings out, announcing the winner of this moto. My breathing is shallow, my heart straining beneath my ribcage.

  Ash’s movements make his actions pretty clear, yet there is still so much I don’t understand right now. I want him to kiss me, but his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and I get the feeling he’s trying to stop himself from doing that very thing. So instead, I lean forward, pressing my cheek against his solid chest. The action is so familiar, so comforting, it’s almost as if we’d never stopped being together.

  I listen to his heart beating, strong and stable as always and all of the commotion below fades into the background. “Why are you here?” I ask, still holding myself tightly to him. My fingers dig into his back, but he doesn’t make an effort to pull away.

  “Shelby said you were putting on this race by yourself, and I wanted to come help.”

  This time I do pull back, just enough to look at him, my eyebrow quirked. “You’re supposed to be racing in California today.”

  His shoulders lift. “I know.”

  My eyes narrow. “This race is important to your overall points standings since you missed so many races from your broken arm.”

  “I know,” he says again.

  My head tilts to the side. “You flew down here, to watch a silly Regionals race, when your entire professional supercross career is on the line?”

  The muscles in his back relax beneath my touch. “I did.”

  The weight of what he’s done slams into me like a
hurricane, and suddenly I am drowning in all of these emotions that I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden away. “Ash, you can’t do this.”

  I release him, and as much as my arms don’t want to let go, I move to the side and turn to look out over the track. My head shakes and I draw in a deep breath. “You can’t do this for me, Ash. You can’t just come here and put this on me.”

  His hand touches my lower back for a moment and then he brings his hands up to his face. The loss of his touch makes a cold shudder run through me. His fingers run through his hair and he stares up at the sky. “I’m not here to make you feel bad. My decision was my own. I don’t care about the race. I’d rather be here.”

  I let out my breath in a huff, trying like hell to build up some anger so this will be easier to say. “You need to rush back to the airport and see if there’s still time to race tonight.”

  “No. I’m here for you.” He tosses his arms in the air. “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. Put me to work. Where do you need an extra person?”

  “I don’t need your help.” In the distance, the gate drops and the roar of twenty dirt bikes floods out the silence that’s seeped in between us. As the bikes round the first turn and head toward the score tower, I fight back tears. I am so sick of crying lately. I love what he’s done for me, for us, but I can’t live with the guilt that my situation may have put his career in jeopardy. My fingers turn white on the metal railing. “I don’t know what you thought you’d accomplish by coming here, but now I just feel guilty as hell. You need to go back, Ash.”

  Ash makes a sound between a groan and a sigh. “We have to stop this, Hana.”

  “Stop what?”

  He makes a motion with his hand. “This . . . distance . . . between us. We both know it’s not right. You can’t seriously think that I wouldn’t do anything for you. Please stop pushing me away. My life has been shit since we broke up, and I can’t handle it anymore. Please, Hana.” Ash grabs the collar of his shirt, his hand clenching into a fist. “I love you.”