Chapter 7
Keanna
While the summer time is always busier than usual at The Track because kids are out of school for summer, it’s even worse on Fridays. I’m guessing it’s because the parents who take their kids to ride can only take off work once a week and Friday is the best day for that. Not to mention, Fridays are the days Jett heads to the airport every week. So, in a world where most people love Friday, I’m beginning to resent it.
Try as I might, I can’t hold back the yawn that pries open my mouth. It’s the fourth one in just a few minutes, and I feel like a terrible employee. I’m working the front desk at The Track today, and we have five people in line right now.
“That’ll be twenty dollars,” I tell the older man standing in front of me. He reeks like cigar smoke and the coveralls he’s wearing are smeared with oil and dirt, meaning he probably just got off work himself before he brought his two kids up here to ride for the day.
He reaches into his wallet and hands me a fifty, so I open the cash register to get his change.
The two boys who are with him are dressed in identical red riding gear, and I’m still trying to decide if they’re twins are just brothers who look a lot alike. One of them looks up at me.
“Why is this place called The Track?” he asks as I hand his dad the change.
“Because it’s a dirt bike track?” I say.
The other one laughs. “But that’s a stupid name. Other tracks are called Oakcreek and Ultimate Motocross.”
I shrug. “Don’t blame me, kid. I didn’t name the place.”
The dad smiles at me and then they leave as the next person steps forward in line. It’s been so busy, I didn’t even recognize D’andre standing there all this time. He’s one of Jett’s best friends, and he loves riding motocross even though he’s not at a professional skill level or anything.
“Hey!” I say, happy for a familiar face. “You didn’t have to wait in line.”
He shrugs. “I don’t mind. To be honest, I don’t even want to ride today.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”
He shrugs again and steps to the side, motioning for the two older women behind him to move up. “Y’all can go ahead of me,” he says.
The women hand me their money and sign in quickly. They’re in their forties and have been riding their whole lives. They come in at least three times a week.
“Have fun, ladies,” I say, waving as they walk back outside.
D’andre waits while I take care of the remaining customers, and then he rests his elbows on the counter. I get the feeling he’d rather chat instead of ride right now.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “And why bother bringing your bike up here if you don’t want to ride?”
He shrugs. He’s done pretty much nothing but shrug since he got here. “I don’t know, Key. I’m just… blah.”
I frown. “It’s summer time. You should be happy.” Then an idea hits me that’s so sad it can’t possibly be true. “Wait…” I eye him suspiciously. “You and Maya…”
He shakes his head. “Nah, we’re good. Perfect, actually.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding. “Good.”
Maya is D’andre’s girlfriend and she’s pretty much my only real friend besides the girls from college, who still haven’t texted me all summer. Maya and D’andre make a cute couple and I’d hate to see them split up.
I lean on my elbows from the other side of the counter until I’m eye level with him. “So why are you so sad?”
“Maya just left to visit her family in Maine.” He frowns and stares at his truck keys as if they’re fascinating. “She’s going to be gone for eight weeks.”
“Damn.” I pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know how I’ll survive without her for so long,” he says, standing up straighter. He goes to shove his hands in his pockets, but he’s wearing riding pants which don’t have pockets, so he just settles for slumping his shoulders. “I’m in love with this girl, Key. I can’t stand being away from her.”
“Trust me, I know how it is.” I grimace. “Jett leaves me every weekend and it’s freaking hell. He’s actually about to head up to the airport any minute now.” I glance at the clock on the computer screen. It’s noon and he’s leaving at 12:15. My chest aches and that hollow spot that appears when he’s gone has already wallowed out a spot inside my ribcage.
