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The stupid intro music plays and then that same show host appears, holding a rhinestone covered microphone while she talks to the camera. She’s standing outside of the Team Yamaha motorhome, a fancy rig that the team sleeps in when they drive to the next race instead of flying. Just seeing Miss Bouncy Boobs with her perfectly airbrushed makeup and blown out hair makes me cringe. I hate her on instinct just because she interviewed my boyfriend four months ago and he forgot all about me.
I watch the video, and Shelby is watching me watch it. The woman says something about getting an exclusive insider look on how the heartthrobs of supercross spend their time after races. She gives a seductive look to the camera and then lets herself inside the motor home.
I zone out while she talks to one of the other racers, an African American guy with a strand of twinkle lights draped across his bunk. He says they were put there as a prank on his birthday, but then he left them up because it helps him find his bunk late at night.
Eventually, the host moves onto Ash. And there he is, sitting at the motor home’s built-in breakfast nook, drinking an energy drink that’s been specifically placed with the label facing the camera. He smiles and shakes her hand, answering some of her questions. My chest aches from how cute he looks when he smiles straight into the camera, and I’m starting to wonder why Shelby would put me through this particular kind of torture.
“So . . . you know what I’m about to ask,” the host says in this over-the-top flirty way. “Let’s see your bunk. We all want to know where the hot rookie of Team Yamaha sleeps at night!”
There’s a flash of something on Ash’s face, almost like he forgot he’d have to do this part of the interview. He stands, and the host and cameraman follows him down a narrow hallway and past the bunk with the twinkle lights. On the bottom near the back of the motorhome, Ash points to a curtained wall and says, “Ta-da!”
The host looks to the camera and then rolls her eyes. “Can we get a peek inside? Actually, can we get a feel for how you to go sleep each night? Lay down and show us!”
“Wow,” I say sarcastically. “This is so lame.”
“I know,” Shelby says. “It’s ridiculously stupid. Keep watching.”
Ash pulls back the heavy curtain, revealing a small bunk much like the other guy’s. It has a black blanket, a black pillowcase, and a little flat screen TV built into the wall at the end.
“Yeah so, there’s not much to do but sleep in here,” Ash says, sitting down. “I’m not even sure that TV works. Sometimes I watch stuff on my phone, but mostly when we’re riding in this thing, we’re tired as hell after a night of racing.” The camera zooms in while he talks. “So yeah, no much to see here.”
“Not so fast!” the host says as she squeezes herself into the bunk next to him. She has to keep her knees close together because her dress barely covers her ass.
“Here it is,” Shelby says.
“May I ask who this beautiful girl is?” the host says, leaning back and pointing to a picture that’s been taped to the wall right next to Ash’s pillow.
A picture of me.
Ash clears his throat. “Yeah, that’s uh . . .”
“Your girlfriend?” the host finishes his sentence in a full on sing-song voice.
He looks at the photo for a second and my heart completely stops. “Yeah. That’s Hana. She’s uh, she’s my girl.”
“Well ladies, it looks like this rookie is spoken for,” she says, wrapping her arm around Ash’s shoulders. The camera zooms in on the two of them while the host wraps up the segment and tells the audience to stay tuned for their
next feature on another racer.
The video ends and Shelby spins in her chair, knocking her knees into mine. “There you have it. Proof.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I’m not even entirely sure I’m still breathing. Ash had a photo of me taped to his wall, just inches away from where he lays his head to sleep while he’s racing. Not the blonde girl. Me.
“When was that video taken?” I ask, realizing a little too late that it was probably months old.
“June third,” Shelby says with a smirk.
“That was right before he broke his arm,” I say. Chills spread across my shoulders as realization dawns on me. “Why would he have that? What about the blonde girl?”
Shelby snorts. “I told you he’s not dating her. He said he wasn’t dating anyone, and I believe him. He loves you, Hana.”
“I . . .” I say, before sinking into my chair and covering my face with my hands. My cheeks are so hot my skin might melt off any second now. “I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it,” Shelby says. “You need to give him another chance.”
“Me?” My voice is so loud it startles me. “He hasn’t asked for another chance.”
“So?” she says, waving my words away with her hand. “Go get my brother and tell him you’re back together. Do it now, before my head explodes with all the tension between you two.”
