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I smile despite the pain and check on my other text message. It’s from Teig, telling me that the doctor made him leave the room so he could talk to Molly. I let out a ragged breath and try to type something back to him, something comforting and assuring, but I’ve got nothing.

If Ash were here, he’d know what to say. It’s probably some kind of sleep-induced insanity, but I can’t stop the sudden urge to want to call him and tell him everything. It’s a few hours earlier in California, but he’s no doubt practicing for the supercross race tomorrow. He’s currently ranked second in the whole nation, and after missing three races from his broken arm, he said he has to place at least third tonight or he risks losing a podium finish for this season.

Not finishing in the top three would be detrimental to his rookie career and he might even lose his sponsorship. His racing reputation would crash; he’d lose endorsements and have to build it all back again. I know how important the supercross race tomorrow is for him, so I can’t call him. I can’t text him, and I can’t give into my selfish desires to make him listen to all of my problems just because I know he’ll have something to say that will fix it all and make it all seem a little better than it really is. He needs to be focused right now.

As much as it hurts me to go without hearing his voice, I leave the phone in my pocket and decide to give him this night to himself. After the race tomorrow, maybe I’ll call him.

I head back to the track to finish setting up for tomorrow morning, and I tell myself that ignoring Ash is for his benefit, not mine. The truth is something I bury deep down in my subconscious, because there’s work to be done, and I don’t have time to spend on the thought that Ash and I aren’t really together and that my problems aren’t really any of his concern.

Chapter 26

Five months ago – February

For the first time since the semester had started, I had no fuzzy, love-struck feelings about Ash’s impending arrival. I kept trying to get excited, to call back those butterflies that used to swim around my stomach every time we talked on the phone. But they were gone. The last couple of months had been mostly arguments or thinly-veiled sarcasm from the both of us. I knew it started with me getting upset over the stupid television interview, but Ash hadn’t done much to make it right.

He didn’t even update his own social media accounts anymore, saying they were stupid, and that he only had them because his bosses made him stay in touch with the fans. So now apparently some intern at Team Yamaha made all of his posts for him and that was Ash’s reason as to why he never mentioned his girlfriend online.

And why did it even matter to me? Social media was stupid. No one puts an accurate representation of themselves online, always taking multiple photos and only posting the best ones, the ones that make them look pretty and thin and happy. Social media was a lie, especially for someone like Ash, whose small supercross fame had brought him into the public eye.

“You’re my girlfriend, that’s all that should matter,” Ash had said the last time we hung out. But if that was true, then why did he cancel his last two visits?

Work.

A busy schedule.

His excuses where there, but I didn’t believe them. Maybe some people just weren’t meant for long distance relationships. Maybe I was the problem. Maybe Ash had found someone else. All I knew was that things didn’t feel right between us anymore, and I didn’t know why. I just knew that I hated it.

My roommate sauntered into our shared living room space wearing the same black dress from the night before. Her hair was done up in braids and swoopy bun knots that made little sense to anyone but her. She gave me a weird look. “What are you so dressed up for?”

I glanced down. I wore a sage green flowy tank top with skinny jeans and heels that had little rhinestones on them. I wasn’t that dressed up. But I guess I wasn’t in my normal pajamas and Ash’s hoodie that I wore to most classes.

“Ash is coming over today.”

“Ah,” she said, really dragging out the word. “You two haven’t broken up yet?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Why would we do that?”

“Because you fight all the time, duh.”

I frowned and she swirled her finger in the air. We were lucky enough to get a deluxe dorm with a living room and two bedrooms and she points to the wall. “These walls are paper thin. You guys are bitter every time you’re on the phone lately. No wonder you get pissed when you can hear me having sex. It’s because you aren’t getting any.”

“Can you just . . . go now?” I said, letting my head fall back against the couch. “I don’t want you skulking around when he gets here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Zooey said, grabbing her purse from the floor.

My phone buzzed and I glanced down, getting weirdly nervous when I saw Ash’s name on the screen.

Flights are shitty today. I can’t stay long. Almost there, btw.

“Damn,” Zooey said with a low whistle. “I never see you looking that pissed off. What happened?”

I shook my head and shooed her off with my hand. “Nothing. Go, he’s almost here.”

“Good luck!” she said, blowing me a kiss before she opened the door. “Maybe you’ll get laid and the fighting will stop for a while.”

I groaned.

“Listen, here’s a test,” she said as if she were some kind of relationship expert all of a sudden. “If he shows up with flowers, then things are going to be okay. If he’s empty-handed, then screw him. Who cares if he’s famous and sexy? You deserve better, kay?”

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