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I ignored her and leaned forward. “Go back the way you came,” I told the driver. “Take the first right. Then take the first right again. It’ll take you past the field to the other side where the school actually is.”
“Axel,” Marta said, wrapping her fingers on my bicep to force my attention to her.
My gaze slowly lowered to the grasp then lifted to glare at her. “Take your hand off me,” I growled. “Touch me again, and you’re fired on the spot.”
Wisely, she dropped her hand and crossed her arms over her chest. I ignored her the rest of the way to the school, taking out my phone and scrolling to see if there were any train wrecks to my image I’d need to deal with today. Thankfully, there were none.
I leapt out of the vehicle as soon as the SUV pulled up to the front doors of Cherish Cove Elementary, not waiting for the wheels to fully stop. I definitely didn’t wait for Marta.
“Axel,” a woman greeted me, smiling at me when I burst through the glass doors. In her fifties, with salt and pepper curls, she looked vaguely familiar, making me think she’d been one of my teachers at one time. Right. Fourth grade. I’d been the bane of her existence.
“Hey, Mrs. Benson. You’re not going to send me to the office, are you?”
“Well, you’re late,” she joked with a laugh. “Welcome back to Cherish Cove. If you’ll come right this way, I’ll take you to where you’ll be set up. Your car is already here.”
“I’ll take him,” a second woman volunteered, practically popping up in front of us. She was about my age, and she looked familiar, as well. She caught me studying her and bobbed her head from side to side. “I’m Helen Prewitt. We went to school together.”
I nodded as if that clicked on a lightbulb. It didn’t. The honest truth was, besides Bristol—and probably because of my obsession with her—I‘d barely ever registered other females in high school, unless they were in my close friend group. Anyone else was just a face in the crowd.
As we left Mrs. Benson manning the doors, Helen chatted about the town and the events of the day, which would include me doing a lot of standing around.
“Here we are,” she announced when we reached the metal doors that were still painted the same weird plum-brown they’d been when I’d attended here. I hadn’t needed directions here. This had been my favorite part of the school from kindergarten through fifth grade.
The classic gymnasium brought back a million memories. The old space with aged but polished wood-planked floors took me back to happier, carefree days. I could almost hear the echoing sound of the red rubber dodge balls bouncing off the walls and smell the scent of the oily wood cleaner.
The room teamed with people at the moment, leaving me no room for memories. To the far side was another set double doors that weren’t ever used by students. They led to the side parking lot, and two stock cars had been pulled through them and were now on display for attendees to check out later today. To the left was my display car that was only used for this sort of appearance. To the right was another it took me a mere second to recognize—Troy Pressure’s from Pressure Racing. He’d been my idol while growing up, but he’d retired now. I knew he lived nearby, though. He also ran a race team—one I competed against most of the year.
I didn’t see Troy, but glancing around, I took in who else was here in what Helen had calledCelebrity Rowwhen we’d been walking through the hallway. Not too far from me, I saw Hasya Novak fromCzech Mate, sitting on a stool with his violin rested across his parted knees. In truth, I only knew it was him because of the poster pasted to the wall behind him. He had Bristol’s cousin, Sutton, pulled close to his side while he spoke in her ear, his hand resting low on her hip. They shared a secret smile, and I shifted away my gaze.
Near him, Flip and Neva stood beside their motocross bikes. They both wore their riding suits, and it made me wonder if Marta had been right and I should have worn my fire suit. I quickly discarded that idea as I approached my car.
Leaning against it, with my arms and ankles crossed, I perused the other side of the room. I spotted Troy talking to Dray Hunter of the mega bandHunter. They hugged before Troy headed over, coming straight toward me and not his own car.
Dropping my arms to my side, I straightened and slipped into my public persona. I held out a hand to him. “Axel Pendleton,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Great to meet you, too. I’ve been following your career for years. Impressive. You came close to getting the cup last year.”
I grimaced then nodded. “Thanks. Too bad close only counts in horseshoes.”
He winked. “An hand grenades. And something tells me you have some explosions bottled up inside you. I’m looking forward to seeing those as you move forward.”
“Thanks,” I said again, a little speechless and awestruck that this guy, one of my idols, had supportive words for me. Since I’d left my dad’s ARCA team, it was more than I’d gotten from anyone who wasn’t a fan . “Glad I’m not racing against you, though.”
“Nah, you’d give me a run for my money.”
“I’d sure as hell try, but it’d get pretty awkward with me riding around the track, trying to get your autograph.”
Troy dropped his head forward while a deep belly laugh rocked his body. He shook his head and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Kid, you’re okay.”
I tried to hide it, but I wouldn’t have been more elated if Santa Claus had popped up in front of me and given me my greatest wish. I was working on getting that one, all on my own, though. When our laughter settled, we stood in companionable silence, side by side, in similar feet-planted, arms-crossed stances I’d always called the NASCAR driver pose.
“I didn’t realize Cherish Cove had so many celebrities,” I joked after an extended silence. There were at least ten stations with people. Mrs. Willow Woods, Bristol’s aunt and the woman in charge of this whole thing, made her way around the room to greet all of us. She would have her own place, with her softball team, national league champs. The public wouldn’t be let in for a little bit yet, so all of us in here were able to relax and visit for the moment.
Except… I saw Marta enter. The glare I sent her way warned her to keep her distance. I couldn’t deal with her now. She rolled her eyes and turned to talk to some guy near the door.
“Well…technically, I’m not from here,” Troy said. “And neither is Dray. He’s sort of my nephew-in-law, though, so I roped him into coming. Willow was thrilled. I’m surprised they got you here, though. I thought you’d be down at Daytona for testing. Your qualifying run and practices are in a couple days, too.”
Right. As a team owner and former driver, he knew the exact schedule of events. He’d likely be heading to Daytona right after this, since his team was there.
