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I began to sob uncontrollably. I didn’t even know why anymore. I missed him, and there was nothing I could do about it.
“Shh…” Jillian said, hugging me and hugging me close to her. “Everything is going to work out. You’ll see.”
I cried myself to sleep that night—soft sobs squeaked from my soul.
AVA
After feeding Simon breakfast and getting him off to school the next morning, I returned home, making my way to Jillian’s bedroom. Just when I thought I had no more tears, I heard the sound of my phone ringing and vibrating in my pocket. I reached for it and raised it in front of my face to see who was calling.
It was Dyson’s mother. I answered. Everything changed in an instant.
Not since the night my sister died, had I endured such gut wrenching news. Dyson had crashed his motorcycle in a crop field at speeds well over one hundred miles an hour.
Not long after he’d left the house, Chance took off in his pickup truck after him. Dyson had taken the same route that they’d raced each other on when they were kids, and Chance saw the tracks leading off the highway. Yet once again, by some miracle, Dyson managed to avoid serious injury.
He was stable, awake and asking to see me.
Stunned, I dropped my purse and phone in my room before knocking on Jillian’s door.
“Come in!” My roommate called out from her bathroom. She’d finished showering moments earlier. I walked inside and sat down on her bed. A few seconds later she came out, one towel wrapped around her torso, another around her head.
“Jesus, Ava, you look terrible. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Dyson.”
Jillian rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You know how I feel about what he’s done to you. I can’t keep being a shoulder for you to cry on. If you don’t trust me as your friend to give you good advice then I’m afraid…”
I interrupted her, balling my fists. “Dyson wrecked his motorcycle! He could have died!”
I bent forward at the waist, slamming my knees against my elbows and dropping my head into my hands. In seconds, Jillian sat down next to me on the bed, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.
“Oh my God, honey, I’m so sorry… I didn’t know.”
Reaching around the front of her, I returned her embrace and buried my head into her shoulder. Whatever strength I had left to fight back my emotions left me.
I began to weep again. I was so tired of crying.
Just like the night before on the couch, Jillian helped me, moving back and forth with a gentle rocking motion. She remained silent, occasionally reaching up and running her hand from the crown of my head down to the center of my back, smoothing my hair in the process.
“Is he…” she whispered, pausing for a moment. “Will he… be okay?”
I leaned away from her, wiping away my tears once more.
“I think so. That’s what I was told, anyway.”
Jillian forced a sympathetic smile to her lips. She shook her head back and forth, moving slowly from one side to the other. I looked away from her, pushing myself off the bed into a standing position.
“I know what you’re going to say. I just… I don’t want to hear it right now.”
Jillian exhaled, and I listened while she stood from the bed. I noticed her walk back towards the bathroom in my peripheral vision.
“I’m glad that he’s okay, Ava.”
I pivoted, watching her while she removed the towel from her head and began to dry her hair.
“I feel a ‘but’ coming,” I said, sniffling a bit.
Without turning to look at me, she said, “I just think it’s a mistake. That’s all. I know you. I know you want to get on a plane and go out there right now.”
I looked away from her, shaking my head and rubbing my upper arms, trying to get rid of the sudden chill I felt.
“The way I see it,” Jillian said, pausing and looking at me before she continued. “If that guy really cares about you, he’ll come here and tell you.”
I didn’t know what to say. Maybe Jillian was right. Maybe she wasn’t.
The only thing I did know was I needed time to think, time to figure out what all these feelings meant. But, no sooner did the notion occur to me than my cell phone rang in my bedroom. Without saying anything to Jillian, I turned and walked out of her room.
“Don’t do anything stupid, Ava!” she yelled out.
I ignored her and continued towards my bedroom, nearly in a full jog by the time I reached my phone. To my surprise, Marco’s number flashed on the display. Assuming he had word about Dyson’s condition, I wasted no time in answering.
“Marco,” I began, pacing back and forth across my bedroom. “Have you heard anything? What’s the latest with Dyson?”
“No, I don’t have any news other than what is being reported right now.”
Exhaling, I sat down on the corner of my bed. Jillian appeared in my doorway, leaning against the frame. I looked up at her, shaking my head for a moment before I returned my attention to the call.
“Why are you calling me, Marco? I’m not with the team anymore. I mean, I like you, and I don’t want to be rude. But what do you want?”
Marco spent the next few minutes explaining to me how he’d talked to Gunter after the fight they had with him at the bar. He’d managed to talk some sense into Dyson’s rival, but now everyone needed my help.
“Marco,” I began, dropping my head into the palm of my hand. “You aren’t making any sense. Dyson told me that he’s done with racing. Even if he wasn’t, there is nothing I can do. If you’ll recall, Gunter is the one who got Dyson suspended in the first place for accusing him of fighting.”
“Yes, I know that,” he replied. “But Gunter can only do so much in the situation. The only one that can get Dyson back on the race track is you, Ava.”
I stood from the bed and immediately began to pace.
“Give me one good reason why I should do that, Marco. Go ahead, just one. I’d like to hear it. Dyson is determined to never race Formula One again. I’ll say it one more time. The person you need to get involved before even talking to me is Gunter. Without him, the suspension doesn’t get lifted, no matter what I say.”
Marco fell silent for a moment. “So, if Gunter agrees to help, will you talk to Dyson?”
I stopped in place, dropping my head backward in frustration.
“Jesus, Marco, I don’t know anymore.”
“Ava, please!” Marco exclaimed. “This is important. If Gunter is willing to help, will you?”
I exhaled, knowing full well that the chances of getting Dyson’s rival to agree to help him were right around zero.
“Okay,” I said, dropping my hand and slapping it against the outside of my thigh in frustration. “Sure, if you can somehow pull off that miracle, I’ll do it.”
Even as I said the words, I closed my eyes and cursed myself.
Why should I agreed to help Dyson? What was I doing? After the way he treated me? Jillian was right—he didn’t deserve anything from me except my anger.
In fact, the longer I thought about it, the less I wanted to do it. Almost before I’d agreed, I cleared my throat and decided against it.
“Marco, wait,” I began. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t care if Gunter helps or not. I’m not interested.”
“That’s a shame.” A new voice replied.
“Gunter?”
AVA
“Hello, Ava.”
“Hang on a second,” I began, covering the receiver and looking at Jillian. “I’ll be done in just a minute. Can you close the door? I just need some privacy.”
Jillian eased herself away from the door frame. “Sure. If you need me for anything, just let me know.”
With that, I nodded and Jillian left my room, closing the door behind her. Afterward, I moved my hand away from the receiver and turned my attention back to the phone call.
“What do you want, Gunter?”
Gunter cleared his throat. “Obviously you’ve heard the news about what happened to Dyson.”
“Yes, of course. Is that what you want to talk about? His crash? Because if it is, I don’t know anything about it. If you really want to know what happened, you’ll need to…”
He interrupted me. “Ava, I’m not trying to get information from you about the crash. I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
I frowned, glancing at the phone for a moment in confusion before returning it to my ear.
“Gunter, I really don’t have time for this. I’m exhausted, and if you don’t get to the point, I’m going to hang up.”
“Okay, okay,” he began. “I’ll keep it short. Formula One needs Dyson. The races are better when he’s involved. I’m better when he’s involved.”
I walked over to the only window in my room. Looking out over the parking lot in our apartment complex, I replied, “Well, you should’ve thought about that before you got him suspended.”
“No,” Gunter said. “The suspension was needed. Dyson had to be taught a lesson, for his own good. But now, it’s clear to me that not only does the sport need him, but if he doesn’t have the sport, the consequences could be deadly.”
I placed one hand on my hip. Chewing my lip, I considered how to reply.
