Chapter 5
Keanna
The shrill ringing of my cell phone makes me jolt awake, erasing all traces of whatever dream I was having. With heavy eyes, I reach over and look at my phone.
It’s a telemarketer. Ugh.
I hit ignore and drop my phone and plop back onto my bed. It’s just after midnight and I’m exhausted. I used to be able to stay up late and watch TV with no problem, but now that I’m working at The Track so much, I pass out around nine.
I yawn and turn on my side, ready to go back to sleep. Then a low rumbling sound comes through my windows. It’s barely there, but I’d recognize it anywhere.
Someone’s riding a dirt bike next door.
I look back at my phone. I don’t have any missed texts from Jett, but he probably wouldn’t risk waking me up by texting me this late. I crawl out of bed and slip on flip flops.
I’m wearing spandex workout shorts that barely cover my butt and one of Jett’s Team Loco T-shirts that does cover my butt. I take my phone to use as a flashlight as I maneuver through the house and out the back door. The dirt bike is louder out here. The lights on the track are still off, but I can see the bike zoom around in the glow of the full moon overhead.
It's Jett alright—his bike soars over jumps with grace and agility. I watch him ride as I walk through the dew-covered grass to the track next door. I climb up on the bleachers and sit at the very top. The cool aluminum seats send a chill down my legs and I tug on my shirt to cover more of my thighs.
Even in the summer, there’s a gentle breeze at night time. It’s warm, but it’s nicer than the harsh sun in the daytime. I take in the smell of the grass and the exhaust from Jett’s bike as he makes another loop around the track.
He seems determined, riding with his whole body attuned to the bike. He’s fun to watch in a race, and even more fun when he’s the only one on the track. It’s like he’s one with his bike. I can see why he loves this sport so much.
After half an hour, Jett slows the bike down and rolls over the final jump near the finish line, which is directly in front of the bleachers. He pulls off his goggles and hangs them on his arm. He rides his bike off the track and parks it just a few feet away from the bleachers, leaning it up against a tree.
I know he can’t see me and I think about keeping quiet and just watching him for a while. But then I quickly feel like a stalker so I call out, “Hi there.”
His helmeted head jerks my way.
“Hi there yourself,” he says with a playful tone in his voice.
I get up and walk down the bleachers, stopping on the bottom row. Jett removes his helmet and his gloves, leaving them on the bike seat when he joins me.
His hair is sweaty and he’s breathing heavily, but he grins at me. “Hi babe.”
I let his sweaty hands grab my sides and pull me up against him. I’m still on the bottom bleacher row and he’s on the ground, so we’re the same height. I grab his shoulders and make a face. “You’re all sweaty.”
“I thought you liked me sweaty,” he says, winking at me under the moonlight.
“Ew,” I say, shaking my head.
He laughs and throws his arms around me. I would scream at the grossness of his sweat all over me, but it’s late at night and I don’t want our parents thinking someone’s being murdered out here. I giggle instead.
“Grossss,” I say, letting him pull me on top of his lap as he sits on the bleacher seat.
“You were asleep, so I thought I’d come ride.”
I lean my head against his chest and stare up at the stars. You can see them so well here in the middle of nowhere. “Have you ridden at all this week?” I ask.
He shakes his head, then rests his chin on top of my hair. “Nope.” He sighs.
“You won the last three races,” I say. “You’ll win this next one, too.”
“We’ll see about that.”
We’re still like this for a few minutes. Jett smells a little like sweat, and although it is kind of gross, it’s a smell I’ve grown used to from being with him at the track. I know that underneath his jersey, his muscles are all bumped and his veins are protruding and he looks like a god. I can handle a little sweat for a boyfriend who is so unbelievably sexy.
“You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. He reaches up and brushes hair off my neck before kissing it.
