Captivating Clay (Team Loco #3)

by Amy Sparling

  To avoid some kind of popularity contest, Marcus divides the kids up randomly, and soon I’m standing in front of five boys and one girl, all ranging in ages from nine to thirteen. Their eager faces look at me as if I’m some superhero. Ugh.

  “Let’s figure out where we’re going, so our kids don’t crash into each other,” Jett says.

  “I’ll take the supercross track,” Aiden says. “My kids are all older so I think they can handle it.”

  Jett and Zach each want one of the kid tracks and I decide to take the main motocross track. Quickly, I realize a small problem. The kids are all on their dirt bikes but I don’t have anything but my legs to transport me. The motocross track is at least a five-minute walk away.

  I glance at Marcus, and he’s happily chatting away with some parents. I wonder how many more annoying mishaps will crop up during the next two weeks of training camps. This whole ordeal is going to be more trouble than it’s worth. However much money Marcus has raised for charity through this, I wish I could have just donated it myself and skipped all this crap. It’s the offseason, dammit. I could be at home surfing right now.

  “You guys head over to the starting line,” I tell the six kids who are eagerly awaiting my instruction. “I’ll be here in a second.”

  Their bikes start up and I watch them all race through the pits toward the starting line. Going any faster than first gear in the pits is breaking the number one rule of the track, but these kids are clearly eager to impress me. I roll my eyes.

  I am not an idol.

  I hate that people try to make me one.

  I don’t even know the first thing about children, let alone teaching. I grew up on my own. My mother abandoned me when I was too young to remember and whoever the loser was who knocked her up has never been in the picture. My grandmother died before I was born, which left me being raised by my grandfather. After a car wreck in his twenties, he could only hear out of one ear, and most of the time he just kept to himself. Sure, he kept the pantry full and he gave me money for new clothes when my old stuff was getting too small, but I basically raised myself.

  We didn’t do Christmas, and we didn’t do Thanksgiving. We watched TV and went to the farmer’s market on the weekends. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, which makes him my hero if I’m being honest. I was sixteen years old when he died, a sophomore in high school, and I had to fight like hell to get myself emancipated and declared a legal adult. They wanted to put me into the foster care system, but luckily my old grandad left me enough money that I could get by on my own. I wasn’t rich by any means, but I could afford to take care of myself.

  I did what any teenager in my position would do: I dropped out of high school, got my GED, and moved somewhere beautiful.

  Then I bought myself a dirt bike. I’m the only member of Team Loco who hasn’t been riding since before I could walk. I’m the latecomer, the guy who had absolutely nothing to my advantage except sheer determination. Jett had his famous motocross racing father, Zach had his mom, his friends, and he lived next to a track, and Aiden had money, plus his famous older brother. All I had was myself.

  I’m halfway to the starting line where I see my six little students hanging out on their bikes. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to tell them or how I’m supposed to teach them. No one taught me. I just got on a bike, drove myself an hour away to the closest track each day, and worked my butt off. I lived off protein shakes and McDonald’s and spent every second of my life at the track. I did it because, like surfing, I loved it.

  It wasn’t until I was eighteen years old that I got invited to join Team Loco and suddenly an entire world of possibility opened up before me. I hadn’t even thought of going pro. I just liked to ride. But the job with Team Loco was needed because my grandfather’s life savings wouldn’t last forever. I accepted Marcus’ offer and never looked back.

  Now, I’m regretting it. Now, I have to teach kids. And this is just the first of five freaking classes.

  “Excuse me! Wait up!”

  I turn around and see a woman, one of the kid’s moms, jogging up to me. She’s wearing high heels—freaking heels to a dirt bike track that’s all grass and dirt—and waving at me to get my attention. I slow down and let her catch up.

  “Can I help you?”

  “You’re already doing more than enough,” she says, giving me a big grin and a playful smack on the arm. “My son is so happy to learn from the pros today.”

  I just nod and hope she goes away, but she’s clearly going to walk next to me until we get to the starting line.

  “My son’s name is Jeremy,” she says, pointing toward the kids. “He’s on the left on the Yamaha.”

  I don’t answer. I don’t see a reason to.

  “Hey, kids,” I say once I finally make it over to them. The mom is standing entirely too close to me, so I step to the side to put some distance between us. I don’t like that she’s here. I already have no idea what I’m doing and the last thing I need is an audience. All six kids turn to me, their eyes barely visible beneath their helmets and goggles.

  I clap my hands together and make something up on the fly. “We’re going to practice holeshots today.”

  “What’s a holeshot?” one of the kids says.

  Seriously?

  “It’s the start of the race. All the racers line up at the starting line and when the gate drops, you take off. The person who gets to the front of the line first has just gotten the holeshot.”

  “That’s a weird word,” the mom says.

  I ignore her.

  “So let’s get started,” I tell the kids. “Everyone line up at the gate but keep one space between each of you, that way you won’t crash into each other on your first try.”

  All the kids roll their bikes to the starting line. The one on the Yamaha raises his hand. “Are we going to practice big jumps?”

  Yeah, right. The last thing I want to do is have some kid get hurt on my watch. I shake my head. “Not today. We’re going to practice holeshots because, guess what? That’s the single most important part of any race.”

  They all look excited.

  “Really?” the mom says. “I didn’t know that.”

  I nod, keeping my focus on the kids. “It’s much easier to stay in first place if you’re the first one there. If you end up at the back of the pack, it’s so much harder to work your way up, passing everyone until you’re in first place. If you can master the holeshot, then you’re already way better than your fellow racers.”

  “You’re so very talented,” the mom says.

  Great. The fangirls aren’t allowed in today, but there’s nothing stopping the moms from becoming fangirls. I make a mental note to tell Marcus to keep the parents the hell away from me at the next training camps.

  As I suspected, all six kids are terrible at holeshots. It’s a hard thing, even if it just seems like pinning the throttle and going fast. It’s so much more than that. The starting line was my biggest weakness when I first started racing and I’ve spent hundreds of hours practicing it over and over.

  I give them as many pointers as I can, and I stand at the gate each time, holding out my arms and then dropping them to signal the start of the race. The kids take off, get to the end of the straightaway, and then turn around line back up at the starting line again. They’re all really enjoying it, I think.

  It’s actually slightly more fun than I thought it would be, teaching kids. Only one person in particular is making it annoying as hell. Her name is Kassie. I know this because right after the kids rode off on their bikes the first time, she put her hand on my arm and introduced herself.

  “I’m Kassie, by the way,” she had said. “And I’m a single mom. Always on the lookout though!” she had said it with a fake ass laugh that makes me want to puke. Yeah, thanks lady for throwing it out there, but I have no interest in you.

  If I were truly the jerk that people think I am, I would tell her that to her face. But I’m not, so I just keep my distance
and avoid talking to her at all costs.

  It doesn’t work.

  Kassie is on my nuts every single second she gets. I start walking around, talking to each kid individually, hoping that all the movement will make her want to stop following me around. I’m about to lose my damn mind, and when I check my watch, it’s only been thirty minutes. The training camp lasts three hours and then we have a pizza party for lunch, a Q&A Session, and then we’re finally done.

  And it’s only been thirty minutes.

  I’m trying to think of a polite way to tell Kassie to leave me alone because I’m not into her, and we’re not going to hook up, when I notice someone else is walking over to join us. Avery is wearing one of the new Team Loco training camp shirts, which is different from earlier. She’s also wearing black shoes with denim shorts and even though the girl is short as hell, she’s got some pretty nice legs.

  I pull my attention away from her and focus on the kids, who are all huddled around me while sitting on their bikes. I pull my hand across my neck, signaling for them to turn off the engines. All the rumbling goes silent.

  “That was really great,” I tell them, and I mean it. They’ve all gotten better at this in just half an hour. “Now we’re going to go one by one so that I can time you, and I’ll save it in my phone and then we’re going to shave five seconds off each of your holeshot times before our day is over.”

  “Really?” one kid says. “That’s awesome.”

  “That’s impossible!” the girl says.

  I shake my head. “It’s totally possible, and I believe in you guys.”

  “How’s it going?” Avery asks. She’s lost that carefree look she had earlier today and she’s back to looking slightly terrified. It makes me wonder if maybe it’s me that scares her.

  “It’s uh… fine,” I say, casting a scornful glance toward the mom that’s been not-so-subtly flirting with me.

  “I’ve got you,” Avery says, winking at me. She leans in a bit, lifting up on her toes, and whispers, “I’ve been watching her and it seemed like you needed help.”

  I give her a curious glance, and then she walks over to Kassie and puts on a friendly but professional smile. “Hi there. I’m so sorry to be annoying, but I have to ask that you come back to the main tent and hang out with the other parents. Due to insurance and liability purposes, we can’t have any parents on the track.”

  Kassie juts out her bottom lip. “Okay, that sucks,” she says, still pouting. “But I understand.”

  She walks up to me and touches my arm, yet again. You’d think my arm was giving out free money or something with how much she wants to touch it. “I’ll see you later, Clay. You’re doing an amazing job.”

  She doesn’t even say goodbye to her kid, she just waves at him and then wobbles off in her high heels that clearly don’t do well on a grassy surface.

  I turn to Avery. “Thank you,” I say.

  She grins. “That’s my job.”

  I can’t help but smile back. Marcus should have hired her a long time ago.

  Chapter 8

  I stretch across my hotel bed and rub the soles of my feet while I wait for my phone to connect. My feet are absolutely killing me. I stood around all day long at the motocross track here in Ozark, Alabama, for the second training camp. This track wasn’t as nice as the one in Aiden’s hometown, and there were no places to sit. Not even bleachers, which you would think would be necessary for a place that has races.

  I probably need some new shoes because my old Nike’s just aren’t cutting it.

  Mandy finally answers my Facetime call. “Heyyy,” she says, waving at the screen.

  My best friend is wearing an NYU hoodie and her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy, but adorably cute bun. She’s also wearing an NYU headband. Behind her, an NYU pennant decorates her dorm room wall.

  “What college are you at again?” I say sarcastically. “I can’t remember.”

  “NYU, baby!” she says, pumping a fist in the air. She is clearly not bothered by my teasing. “My classes are ama-zing.”

  She closes her eyes on that last word, stretching it out as if she’s talking about a delicious slice of pizza instead of a college class. I can’t believe she likes education so much. I also can’t believe she’s having so much fun without me.

  But finally something has changed because I’m officially having fun, too. Well, except for my aching feet. I wonder if I can take a cab to the nearest shoe store and get back with a new pair of comfortable running shoes before we fly out in the morning.

  I’ve only briefly told Mandy about my new internship, in snippets of texting and Snapchats because we’ve both been so busy. But now it’s late in the evening, and we’re finally able to sit down and chat. I tell her all about Team Loco and how Marcus is a cool, laid-back boss. There’s no dress code so I wear shorts and a Team Loco shirt, and we always fly first class. I’ve only done two of the five training camps so far, but the work isn’t hard. The worst part was all the standing around earlier today, but in general, the job is fun. I get the feeling Marcus hired an intern because he wanted someone to do all the work for him while he hangs out and chats with people.

  Fine by me. I get to travel.

  “So where have you been so far?” Mandy asks.

  “Louisiana and now Alabama.”

  She curls her lip, the expression on her face is clearly not amused. “That’s all?”

  “Well it’s only been two trips so far,” I say. “There’s four more to go, and that’s just for the off-season holiday thing. As soon as the official supercross season opens, I’ll get to go to all of those states too. I think there are twenty-four races.”

  She doesn’t seem impressed. “Are you coming to New York?”

  “Sadly, no.”

  “Then where are you going?”

  I list off the next three stops because I have the itinerary memorized. “Florida, Tennessee, Nevada, and then back to Texas. The next three are all like two days apart and then we have five days off, where I’ll go back home, and then we head to Texas. There’s some big Christmas party thing on December 23rd. It’s at Jett Adam’s house.”

  “None of those states are fun,” Mandy says.

  Now that she’s obsessed with the Big Apple, I guess she’s too good for any traveling that’s not to New York City. My shoulders fall as Mandy quickly changes the subject, talking about her college classes and how much she loves the city. I guess I wanted her to be more interested in my internship. After months of feeling stuck and hopeless, I finally have something to get excited about. I just wish someone would be excited with me.

  We talk for a little while longer, and then there’s a loud knocking sound coming from her end of the phone. Three girls pile into Mandy’s dorm room, and they’re so loud I have to hold the phone further away from my face.

  “Oh my god, guys!” Mandy says, waving them away with her hands. “Yes, we can get pizza.” She turns her attention to me. “I gotta go. I miss you, Avery!”

  “I miss you too,” I say, but the last part is cut off when she ends the call. I barely got a glimpse of those girls, but I don’t need to see them to know that they’ve clearly replaced the spot I used to have in Mandy’s life. Oh well, I guess it’s good that she’s happy.

  Once we’re off the phone, I realize I completely forgot to tell her about the other awesome thing about Team Loco. When I was filling out my internship paperwork on the flight here, Marcus had sat next to me in first class and he told me all about Team Loco’s employment opportunities. There’s a possibility that I could get an official job with the team, as marketing or HR or something. Team Loco even pays for college classes once I’ve worked or interned here for a year, as long as I pass the college courses with a grade of a B or higher. How cool is that?

  I roll my eyes and fall back on my bed, annoyed that I forgot to tell Mandy. But I doubt she would have cared anyway. It’s the first time we’ve gotten to talk in ages and she only wanted to talk about hers
elf and her stupid amazing new life.

  There’s a knock on my hotel door, or at least it sounds like it. But why would anyone be visiting me? I check the time on the digital clock on my nightstand. It’s just after eight-thirty. I walk over and peek out of the peephole in my door. Three girls are standing outside. I only recognize one of them—Keanna.

  I open the door.

  “Hey!” Keanna says, all smiles just like always. “The other girlfriends are here and I wanted to introduce you to them.”

  “Oh, cool,” I say, flashing a smile to the two strangers. Keanna introduces me to Bree, who has long dark brown hair and a heart-shaped face. She’s Zach’s girlfriend. The other girl is Aiden’s girlfriend Jenn, who is curvy with lighter hair that’s cut into a cute bob style. She’s wearing bright red lipstick and is holding a pair of flip-flops.

  “We came to rescue you from hotel room boredom,” Jenn says as she holds out the flip-flops to me.

  I take them and realize that they’re all wearing the same flip-flops. They’re navy blue with the hotel’s logo printed on the sole. “Where are we going? I ask. I don’t really care, though. I’m excited to get out of here.

  “Do you have a swimsuit?” Keanna asks.

  I grin. “Yep.”

  “Perfect,” she says as they let themselves into my hotel room. “Go change into it. We’re hitting up the indoor pool.”

  Before I know it, I’m hanging out with three pretty girls who are all vastly cooler than I am. We’re floating on pool noodles in the hotel’s gorgeous indoor pool. There’s a rock waterfall, colorful LED lights, and palm trees filling the room so you can almost imagine that you’re outside in a tropical paradise. Swimming in a heated pool in the middle of December is something I didn’t know I needed. My feet are thanking me right now as I hold them over a water jet.

  “I’m so glad you were able to come,” Keanna says to Jenn. “How’s the internship?”

  I perk up at her question because it’s cool that another one of us is doing an internship.

  “It’s hard and challenging, but amazing,” Jenn says. She’s the only one who has dunked her head in the water, so her hair is all shriveled up and dripping water while we float in the pool. “I’m glad I got some time off to come hang out.”