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“Hana,” Shelby breathes. “Hana, are you there?”
“Yes, what’s wrong?” Lincoln opens the truck door for me, but I stand there, unable to get inside.
“Hana, I don’t know what to do!” Shelby’s words are frantic, rushed. There’s shuffling on the line, and I think she’s running until I hear the sound of her car starting up.
“What the hell happened?” I ask.
Lincoln’s expression falls as he watches me with concern.
Shelby starts crying and my stomach drops. “Shelby, are you okay? Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“No,” she says between sobs. “It’s not me. It’s Ash.”
“What about Ash?” I ask, pressing the phone hard to my ear as if that’ll somehow make her talk faster.
“He’s had an accident.”
Chapter 14
Though Shelby’s first reaction anytime something happens to her family is to freak out like the world is ending, it soon becomes clear that Ash is okay. He’d broken his arm, dislocated his shoulder, and suffered a mild concussion while racing in Florida. Another guy had crashed on the whoops, and Ash couldn’t get out of the way in time. His head had slammed straight into the inch of dirt covering the stadium’s concrete floor. I figured that Ash’s condition wasn’t life or death since she wasn’t praying as fiercely as she did when Shawn got hurt, but it takes me about an hour of sitting with Shelby in her living room to coax all of that information out of her. Her parents took the first flight to Fort Lauderdale and left Shelby home with her little brother.
I sleep on Shelby’s couch for three days so I can help out with Shawn and make sure Shelby actually eats each day. She’s so distraught you’d think Ash had been kidnapped by terrorists or something. Dad even lets me work half-days at the track so I can spend more time comforting her. After a week, Ash has been cleared from the hospital, and her parents rent a car to drive him back home. His dad said Ash wouldn’t be able to race for a few more weeks, but Team Yamaha isn’t mad about it. They want him to rest and come back fully healed. The trip from Florida to Mixon will take two days, so since I’ve done everything a good friend can do, and I think avoiding Ash is probably best, I decide to head home early.
“Are you seriously leaving?” Shelby asks while I throw some of my things back into my backpack. She’s sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket like she has been for the entire day. We’ve been watching movies and playing board games with Shawn. “They’ll be home in a couple of hours.”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m leaving,” I say, shoving my pajama pants into the bag and struggling to zip it closed. “My work here is done.”
Shelby throws the blanket off her legs and leans forward, lines appearing across her forehead. “You can’t leave now! We all need to be here to support Ash. Mom said he’s pretty depressed that he’s forced to quit riding for a few weeks.”
Forced to quit riding his new girlfriend, more like.
“You guys can handle it, I’m sure.” I stand and throw the bag over my shoulder. Outside, the rumble of an engine makes my heart speed up, but I glance out of the window and see with relief that it’s just a passing car, not the Carters getting home early.
“Hana, stop.” Shelby puts herself in front of me, blocking my exit. “You can’t leave. You’re his friend.”
I push her to the side, slowly but firmly. “No. I’m his ex-girlfriend. There’s a huge difference.”
Shelby grinds her teeth together. The way the sunlight hits her face through the window highlights the dark circles under her eyes. For just a second I can almost picture Ash, see his features staring at me in her own expression. I blink the thought away. Shelby folds her arms across her chest. “So you can be here when I need you, but not when my brother needs you?”
“He doesn’t need me, Shelby. I’m sorry, but he doesn’t.”
“He does need you. He might be your ex, but he’s still your friend and I know you still care about each other.”
“Look Shell,” I say, trying not to get angry when she’s so upset. “If Ash were dying or something, then yeah, I’d be here. But it’s just a minor injury. He’ll be fine without me.”
I pull open the door and Shelby says one more thing, her voice low. “He would be there if you were hurt.”
I snort. “Something tells me his new girlfriend wouldn’t allow that.”
*
Even though Ash has only been home for a week and a half, it feels like months since I last hung out with Shelby. She’s made attempts to get me to come over, but I know Ash is there, and that is so not happening. I don’t want to see him all broken up. I don’t want to feel sorry for him or tell him I hope he gets better. That’s his new girlfriend’s job, not mine.
After that one day of epic bad decision making, I haven’t been back online at all. I haven’t checked Ash’s social media profiles or even my own. I just don’t care. I can’t risk seeing something I don’t want to see anymore. Maybe I’ll get online one day, but it won’t be anytime soon.
For now, I focus solely on my work, coming in early each day and staying as late as possible unless I’m hanging out with Lincoln, in which case I’ll rush home and shower. We’ve been on three more dates since the brunch date. He held my hand in his truck on the way home from dinner last night. I’m still wondering how I feel about that. I mean, I like him, but I still don’t have the butterflies.
I’m wondering if the butterflies come naturally for every guy or just for your first love? Am I doomed to never feel them again now that Ash and I are over? I draw in a deep breath and crank up the radio in the score tower. Dad and Marty are off working on the track, and I’m in here alone, copying sign in wavers and registration forms. I used to find this type of work boring, but now I’m glad for something to do. Staying busy is the key to forgetting things that hurt.
