Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

by Shey Stahl

  “Wow,” Alley rolled her eyes. “I warned you once and I won’t say it again. If you get hurt, don’t come crying to me.” she handed Emma a box though her eyes remained focused on me.

  Emma just stood there looking in between us both wondering what the hell was going on.

  “Why is it such a big deal to everyone what we do with each other?” I asked getting annoyed that everyone cared so much if we were, using Jameson’s term, humping.

  Alley threw her arms up in the air. “Because Sway,” her expression changed, softened. “You’re our friend too. I’ve known you just as long as I’ve known him. If this doesn’t, and I doubt it will, not only does Jameson lose his best friend, we do too.”

  I felt my face crumble at her words. “I wouldn’t do that to you guys.”

  “I warned you because Jameson has no clue what’s going on, he can’t see it. And at this point, I’m not sure you can’t either.”

  Why does everyone keep saying that?

  Before I could ask her, Alley’s phone rang.

  She glared down at the screen. “Great, Gordon’s calling. After a moment of silence and more listening, she hung up without so much as a goodbye.

  “See,” she held out her phone. “That little stunt you guys pulled last night has Jameson being called to the principal’s office.”

  I just rolled my eyes.

  Jameson wouldn’t care and neither did I. That was one hell of a ride and worth it to me. After his reaction to the micro polishing, I’m sure he felt the same way.

  Jameson was still on the track when I made it down to pit lane and stepped on the pit box next to Kyle. Mason sat on the other side of him focused on the laptop in front of him as he entered data.

  Kyle looked furious obsessively clicking a pen in his hand, his knuckles white.

  “What’s up?” I asked, almost scared to know.

  Kyle pulled his head set aside handing me the spare set next to him. “Darrin is all over him out there.” He hollered over the rumble of the cars and then positioned the headset back against his ears. “I know. There’s not much I can do. Hang in there.”

  Once I adjusted my own headset, immediately I heard a fuming Jameson coming through the scanner.

  “What the fuck? I mean...Christ almighty this is practice, not the goddamn race. Why is he crowding me?”

  “Middle two, middle one, clear low...four car high, fourteen low on the inside...at your door...at your rear...clear.” Aiden announced as Jameson passed Darrin again coming out of turn one.

  We couldn’t see but we could follow him on the laptop Kyle had open watching ESPN.

  They were all over this with the media. The series point leader and the second place car battling in practice was a headliner for sure.

  Probably just as good as the headlines after the Winston.

  Just the few laps I’d been watching of this, they seemed to be playing this cat and mouse game with each other.

  One would lead, then the other before Darrin would slide up the track on him and purposely take his line forcing him to run another. Which would have been fine, it’s practice after all, but as soon as Jameson found another line and gave Darrin room, Darrin would hang back and find him again.

  “Kyle,” Jameson’s voice was less than thrilled. “go talk to Frank. I wanna see what his goddamn problem is. If he bumps me one more time, I’m slamming his ass in the wall.” Jameson warned. “I’m not gonna take this shit much longer.”

  “Calm down.” Kyle told him trying to ease his frustrations but really, there was no use now.

  Once Jameson got riled up, it was pretty much impossible to calm him down. You just had to wait for the storm to pass.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down, Kyle!” Jameson snapped back. “It’s bad enough I’m fishtailing all over the fucking place and now I got him all over me. I can’t keep the car straight. We’re lucky I haven’t wadded it up already.”

  “Mason went to talk to Frank.” Kyle replied and then threw the clipboard across the pit box. It smashed against a pile of tires on the ground beside us.

  “That bad?” I asked Kyle as he busied himself looking over the lap times and the last adjustments they made to the car, tugging at his hair in frustration.

  Everything was kept electronically in the teams laptop so they could immediately decipher lap times, fuel mileage, and adjustments they made to the car. That way, if they made an adjustment that didn’t work; they could document it and know the result the adjustment had to the lap times or even fuel mileage.

  Kyle sighed shaking his head. His eyes rose to meet mine as he pointed towards the screen in front of him. “Jameson’s right.” I watched the screen closely with him. “The car is all over the place. We made a spring adjustment but it’s still off.” Kyle motioned with his hand gesturing how the car would move up the track on Jameson. “When he drives into the corner, it wants to come around on him. That’s exactly when Darrin gets on him.” He flicked his hand in disgust towards the screen. “He’s trying to make him crash.”

  “Cole, you copy?” Jameson asked.

  “10-4, what’s up?” Bobby replied. “I see you got your hands full up there.”

  “Where the fuck are you? Help me out up here.”

  “I’m about two seconds behind you.” I could see Bobby coming out of turn four. “I’m pulling off though. I got a flat right front.”

  “Well fuck,” Jameson scoffed. “that’s just great.”

  Kyle got back on the radio again after entering some data in the computer and talking to Mason again. “Bring it in. We need to make some adjustments to the springs.” He told him. “I want to try putting a wedge in the rear springs and make a track bar adjustment. Tony wants to change the air pressure in the rear tires as well.”

  Jameson slowed coming out of turn three to make his way onto pit lane when Darrin clipped his right rear corner and spun him.

  Jameson tried to correct it, and did at first, but the car came back around on him and sent him into the inside wall.

  Both Kyle and I jumped up in the pit box to get a better look.

  His car was smashed against the inside wall entering pit lane.

  It was junk. There was no way that car, was racing in Sunday’s race.

  “You okay, Bud?” Kyle asked.

  Jameson didn’t respond, he was already ripping his gear away. We could now see him pull himself from the car, tearing hoses off and throwing his gloves and helmet inside the car.

  The paramedics were over there trying to get him to get in the aide car but he was refusing.

  Kyle yanked me forward. “Come on, I know what he’s about to do.”

  Yeah well, I knew too.

  In instances like this, Jameson reacted first and then thought later, always had.

  After today, it wasn’t lost on anyone that Darrin Torres had never heard of the “Gentlemen’s Agreement” in NASCAR.

  There are written rules that you abide by as a driver and enforced strictly by NASCAR and its officials.

  Then you have the unspoken rules, usually enforced by the veteran drivers, though all drivers are expected to follow them. And honestly, most veteran drivers have no problem letting the rookie drivers know about the “Gentlemen’s Agreement” when they feel they’ve forgot.

  The rules were simple really: If you’re a lapped car, give room to the leaders. If you’re a lapped car, don’t block and don’t challenge the leader. When bump drafting, use caution and never bump in draft through a corner. And finally, race with respect during practice, it was practice after all, not the race.

  Like I said, Darrin had obviously never heard of this.

  Kyle and I had just made it back to the garage area when we saw Jameson leaned inside Darrin’s car trying to pull him out with Spencer and Aiden in Frank, his crew chief’s, face.

  Kyle ran up to Jameson while I trailed close behind him. Kyle grabbed him by his racing suit, but with how angry Jameson was right then, it was going to take more than Kyle to
pull him away. His expression was lived, his chest heaving with deep breaths, similar to a bull.

  I grasped this wasn’t the right moment, but I kind of giggled to myself at how he was acting like a bull in that moment and he had the sexual stamina of a bull, ironic, huh?

  “Get out of the car!” Jameson roared at Darrin who was currently taking his helmet off to get out of the car. “What the fuck was that?”

  “You better be ready to finish the fight if you start one Riley.” Darrin warned pulling himself from the car ready to throw down it seemed.

  Before either of them could get to each other, most of their team, along with two NASCAR officials were dragging them apart. News reporters hovered everywhere eating this up along with Chelsea and Mariah standing on the other side of Darrin’s garage bay.

  “I’m ready to finish this right now.” Jameson pushed pass Spencer throwing his arms up taunting. “C’mon Darrin, I’m right here. Let’s see what you got.” He added trying to provoke him further, not that it was really needed at that point.

  You could tell Darrin wanted to take the first swing but with a NASCAR official standing there, he lowered his arm reluctantly. “See you on Sunday, Riley.” he replied curtly and turned to walk away with the rest of his team that had gathered around.

  “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Jameson advised using Darrin’s previous words against him.

  When Jameson turned towards me, it wasn’t hard to understand the now malevolent grin he had plastered across his face. I knew then what Darrin was stirring up in Jameson and I had a feeling Darrin was about to see a side of Jameson he never saw coming.

  Alley was immediately in his face. “You and Darrin are wanted in the NASCAR hauler.”

  NASCAR hauled around a big red hauler where you were summoned if you’d been bad. This wasn’t the first time Jameson had to go there to discuss his on the track conduct. And though he wasn’t really a frequent flyer, they didn’t call him “Rowdy Riley” for nothing.

  Jameson shook off Kyle and Spencer and began walking towards me, his eyes trained ahead, unmoving. “Come with me, Sway.” He grabbed me by the hand.

  I was being dragged around a lot today.

  On the way towards the hauler, a reporter with ESPN shoved a microphone right in Jameson’s face as he was trying to walk. “Jameson, we see that you and Darrin had an altercation back there and on pit road, can you tell us what happened?”

  Jameson kept walking but answered with brusqueness. “I don’t know what happened.” He told him unwilling to stop. “He was all over me during practice and when I pulled onto pit road, he spun me. I just wanted to see what his problem was.”

  Before Jameson could say anymore, Alley was beside us advising him to keep his mouth shut.

  “Decline to comment.” She told him pushing him forward.

  “They only want the truth.” Jameson snapped jerking away from her. “I’ll give ‘em the goddamn truth!”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to him so I said the first thing that came to mind. “Are you okay?” Alley walked away towards the hauler leaving us alone.

  He huffed, turning to glare at me while we continued walking. “I just wrecked the car during practice.” He threw his arms up in the air. “Now, my team has to get the back-up car ready to go before qualifying in two hours. So, yeah, I’m fucking great, Sway.”

  “Jesus,” I balked. “Why did you ask me to come with you if you’re going to talk to me like that?”

  Jameson snorted. “I just...look,” he stopped walking and turned towards me. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  I nodded feeling myself close to tears. There were people walking around us, so I knew this was no time for us to be having an argument. But I also didn’t appreciate this being taken out on me.

  Jameson noticed, abruptly I was brought tightly against his side as he whispered in my ear. “I really am sorry. I’m just pissed that my team is the one suffering from this because Darrin is an asshole and seems to have something to prove.”

  I nodded again. “You go ahead. I’m going to wait at your hauler.”

  Without another look, I turned and walked towards the hauler where the crew was unloading the back-up car with the dented hood.

  Jameson always reacted like this when angry. Anger first, lucidity later. I doubted that would ever change, so I never took it personally. It was just him—he didn’t mean anything by it.

  Not that it was okay to treat people like that but I knew he needed to simmer down before he said something he’d regret.

  With Jameson, he put everything he had into racing and when someone threatened that, he reacted the only way he knew how. The only way I could describe this to someone was comparing it to a mother and their child. It’s the exact same instincts for him.

  If you understood his passion for racing, you’d understand his reactions.

  Back at the hauler, everyone was hard at work preparing the back-up car for qualifying. Jimi was there now but wouldn’t be staying since he had a race in Knoxville tonight.

  “Where’s Jameson?” I heard him ask Alley.

  “Where else...the NASCAR hauler,” Alley answered, her Blackberry attached to her ear once again. “He’ll be back any minute.”

  “Oh goddamn him.” Jimi grumbled walking towards Kyle and Mason who were changing out the hoods. “Is he trying to set some sort of record for the amount of times he’s in there this year?”

  Gentry nudged me nodding his head at the hood.

  “Shut up.” I backhanded his shoulder. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  He never answered, just smiled twirling a wrench in his hand.

  Gentry, was the type of guy who loved to make you squirm with embarrassment, kind of like Kyle and Spencer.

  Let’s just say he fit in well with these goons.

  “What did he do this time?” Jimi asked looking to us for an answer.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I heard Jameson’s even tone coming from behind me. “Darrin started it.” He answered sharply and began assisting the crew.

  He still seemed angry, but his mood improved when he walked past me and winked.

  Why am I so turned on by winking?

  “Jesus Christ Jameson,” Jimi was pacing back and forth by now while Alley filled him in. “I swear you need anger management.”

  “Do not.” Jameson barked from under the hood but didn’t look up.

  “He’s also being fined five thousand for that little stunt he pulled last night on the track.” Alley added.

  “What?” Jimi yelled over the shrill of the engine they’d just started.

  Even now, Jameson didn’t look up but it wasn’t hard to see the smile when he snuck a quick peek at me.

  What was I doing?

  Giggling of course.

  “What stunt on the track?” Jimi growled towards Jameson.

  “It was nothing,” Jameson eluded with a shrug.

  Jimi wasn’t accepting that as answer so Jameson continued. “I took Sway for a ride around the track. I cleared it with Gordon first,” he defended. “but...I did a burn out. Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to.”

  “You did what?” Jimi scorned—his face flushed with anger. “What would you have done if you wrecked out there? You could have killed her.”

  “I didn’t though.”

  “You never think about anybody but yourself, do you?” Jimi was in Jameson’s face by now while the rest of us watched their disagreement.

  This happened often and usually ended with one, or both of them, yelling and then walking away.

  Jameson threw the hammer he had in his hand against the back of the hauler. “Don’t ever question my concern for Sway’s safety.” He yelled in his dad’s face. “I was careful.”

  Air tools and hammers seized as the paddock silenced.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and gaped at them, standing within inches of each other.

  I knew Jameson would never actually
hit Jimi, but I questioned it a time or two. Now was one of those instances.

  Jimi shook his head, and backed away from Jameson. “I have a plane to catch.” He turned sharply and walked away. This also happened often. “Try to stay out of trouble for one damn weekend.”

  Jameson ran his hand across the back of his neck and then looked my direction. Again, I didn’t know what to do so I winked at him. Girls could wink, right?

  I didn’t expect it given his mood but he winked back before turning to his torn up race car.

  Emma walked up and sat down next to me outside the hauler. “Come shopping with me, I’m bored.”

  “And miss this excitement, not a chance.” I leaned back in the chair and watched my hot head at work. It was almost as good as watching him drive the car last night.

  “What happened?” Emma asked motioning towards the car.

  The crew and Jameson were frantically changing out the engine.

  “Darrin wrecked him when he was entering pit road.” I answered still staring at Jameson who was now bent over the fender providing me with a wonderful view.

  “Seriously?”

  I nodded, my eyes focused ahead.

  “What an asshole!” she looked down at her phone in her lap and then grinned. “I heard you called Chelsea and Mariah lesbians.”

  I whipped my head around. “How’d you know about that?”

  “Dana.”

  “Who’s Dana?”

  “Another pit lizard in love with Jameson,”

  “What? How did I not know about her?”

  Emma waved her hand around dismissively. “She’s harmless, a little crazy, but ostensibly harmless. She doesn’t come around him though after Las Vegas. He found her in his motor coach one night and ended up calling the police on her because she refused to leave.”

  I laughed. “I would have liked to see that.”

  “Watch this,” Emma’s once amused smile took on a wicked edge. “Jameson?” she chimed towards him.

  Jameson didn’t look up but grunted, “What?” as he tightened bolts down.

  “Dana says hello.”

  Slowly, he looked up at her, the color drained from his face while he stared at Emma with a wary expression.