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“Huh?” I reach in my back pocket for my phone. It is ringing but I hadn’t heard it over the roar of a dozen dirt bikes blazing past us. I cover one ear with my hand and put my phone to the other.
“Hello?”
“Hana, baby, I’m so sorry.” It’s Mom.
“Um…yeah me too.” What else am I supposed to say? The checkered flag waves the final third moto racer off the track.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you honey, but Danny wants to buy you a plane ticket, and you could be here just in time for the reception.”
“I don’t…” Teig pins the gas and takes the holeshot. “YES!”
“Great, so you’ll come?”
“No, Mom, I’m sorry that was for Teig.” I struggle to speak and watch my brother race. “I can’t go Mom. It’s too late.”
“How is this going to make me look in front of my friends?”
The second place rider gains on Teig. I’m on the edge of Ash’s tailgate, holding my breath in anticipation. Come on Teig, don’t slow down under the pressure. They turn out of sight, giving me time to digest what Mom just said. So she doesn’t care about me being there as much as she cares what her friends will think.
“You only want me there to impress your friends? Seriously, Mom?” I glance at Ash. He’s not watching the race, he’s watching me. He should mind his own freaking business.
“I want you there to support me.” Her voice is softer now. “Is that too much to ask?”
The white flag waves. Only one more lap to go, and Teig is still in front.
“I can’t support you marrying a man you hardly know, Mom.” I dare to look at Ash again and his eyes w
ere wide with anger. Or, fear? None of those emotions make sense to me. There isn’t enough room in my heart to juggle anticipation for Teig, worry for Teig, annoyance with Mom, and hardcore crush syndrome with Ash.
“Well you should. I am your mother. I raised you, you know.”
“Yeah but you didn’t do a good job.”
“Excuse me? I gave you everything you ever wanted!” She is yelling now, on the verge of tears from the sound of it. I should apologize I guess. Forgive and forget. But as she rambles on telling me how spoiled and selfish I am, I zone it all out and watch Teig cross over the finish line. Dad leaps into the air and runs alongside Teig’s bike as he leaves the track and heads to the tower. Dad’s wearing his stupid Mixon Motocross shirt. Mom’s wearing her fifth wedding dress.
Mixon is where my heart is now, not Dallas.
“I’m sorry Mom. I can’t talk anymore.”
“I can’t believe you,” she says. I hang up.
Teig runs up to me carrying a first place trophy and smiling, quite literally from ear to ear. His cheeks are red, his hair is soaked and he’s panting like a dog. Shelby high-fives him.
“Good race kid.” Ash fist-bumps Teig’s gloved hand.
“You were awesome,” I say, ruffling his hair and regretting it when my hand comes out all wet and stinky. Teig hands me his trophy. “I won this for you.”
I take it and stare at the golden plastic dirt bike at the top of the trophy.
Yep. Mixon is my home now.
Chapter 13
Shelby stands pigeon-toed staring into the full-length mirror in my closet. She lets her shoulders slouch and the silver strap of my Chanel camisole slides down her arm. She doesn’t bother to pull it up, but she does sigh for the millionth time.
She tilts her head to the left, then to the right. Then she tousles her hair and groans. “This isn’t going to work.” She pulls her hair back and examines both sides of her head in a ponytail before letting it fall around her shoulders again. Now she looks down at my pair of incredibly expensive jeans she’s wearing and curls her lip.
“I’ll thank you not to look at my three hundred dollar jeans that way.” I shove her to the left with my hip so we can share the mirror. I can’t decide on a pair of black flats or black strappy sandals, so one of each are on my feet. I twirl and look at my dainty feet in the reflection. Well, the left foot is dainty. The right one is, at best, meh. Black flats it is.
