Robert scoffs. “That’s not really up to you to decide.”
Right. “Fine, then. I don’t hateyou, at least.”
“There wasn’t any reason for you to. I’m a great guy.”
“And so modest!” Matt replies on reflex. He tenses when Robert stops walking.
“If you’re gonna not-hate me, you need to understand that I respect myself now. I am a good person, and I only want to surround myself with other good people.”
“Like Javier?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Despite what Robert thinks of him, Matt is a good person. He’ssucha good person that he doesn’t even mention that Javier was his friend first. That the only reason the two drivers could even communicate with each other was because Matt taught Robert Spanish and Javier English.
Matt’s such agood personthat he doesn’t shove anything back in Robert’s face. Especially not the fact that all of the things Robert still identifies himself with—his best friend, his profession, his favorite food—are all thingsMatthas given him.
Instead, because he is such agood person, Matt stays quiet. Robert can keep on believing that one night almost nine years ago defines who Matt is as an adult. What does it matter to him?
If Robert needs to be the victim, he can keep playing the victim. God knows the entire world has already chosen his side.
The announcer reads her card and looks up. “Which other driver would you choose to do an escape room with?”
The fans immediately cheer, which is obnoxious, but it happens every time Andes shares the fan stage with one of the popular teams. The sea of red-clad fans doesn’t give a flying fuck what Matt has to say.
“The answer is easy,non?” Thomas replies. “Rafael and I areteammates on the track, we can be teammates in escaping the room.”
There’s a full minute of applause before the crowd quiets enough for Rafael to add, “I would choose Thomas as well.”
“None of the other drivers have picked their teammates,” the announcer announces with barely contained glee. “Matthew, who would you choose?”
Matt thinks every room with Robert is already an escape room. Still, he’s a good employee, and he answers, “I think Robert and I could figure it out.”
The Ferraros laugh together, and Matt doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t believe himself either.
“I’d choose Javier,” Robert decides. “That way, if we failed, I wouldn’t want to kill myself.”
Though Bobby’s family had money, campers still needed to fit on the road. After Mr. Miller claimed the only real bed, the two teens were left to either share the convertible couch-bed or assemble their tent outside.
Most times, they were too tired to set either of them up after a long, hard day of racing. Those nights, they rolled out their sleeping bags and slept under the stars.
“I can't wait to join a team and fly places and sleep in hotels.” Bobby sighed once. “I’m agrowing boy. I need a bed and food that hasn’t been canned.”
“Your dad said we’re going to look back at this shit and think these are ‘the good ole days’.” There was a stick under Mateo’s shoulder blade that his arms were too tired to reach. That was a problem for tomorrow.
“If those days were so good for him, he’d be sleepin’ outside right next t’us.”
Mateo couldn't fault the logic, so he laughed.
“I like your laugh.”
Mateo stopped immediately. He hadn’t figured out how to laugh without snorting yet.
Robert never snorted. His laughter was perfect and infectious.
“Don’t make fun, I’m tired.”
“I’m not making fun! It’s the truth!”
