Girl on Track

19| Big ego

Mom makes me wake up extra early for school. There's no heading to the track with Tyler anymore, there's just school and home, according to her, with work thrown in intermittently.

I'm silent for the whole drive there. She tries to make small talk, like asking me what radio station I want will make up for her taking away my only happiness in life, but it doesn't. There's only a week until the qualifying rounds, but there will be one less rider attending.

"Have a nice day," she says as I climb out of the car, but I can only nod in reply. I've almost escaped when she grabs my arm, forcing me to look back. "I know you're mad at me," she says, "but I'm doing this because I love you, even if you can't see that right now."

My eyes soften. It's hard to stay mad at her, especially these days. "I know that's why you're doing it," I say, hoisting up my bag, "but that doesn't mean you're right." I slam the door behind me and walk toward school, certain she's watching me.

Vanessa and Niko try to cheer me up all morning, but it's impossible. I can't stop thinking about how much effort I've invested into training these past few weeks, and now none of it matters.

Tyler hasn't responded, either, which irks me more than I'd like. It's not like we usually message outside of training, but the least he could do is check in on me. Or maybe he doesn't care, maybe to him, this was only ever about winning his stupid bet with his friends. Maybe now that our training is over, so is any communication between us.

"Does this mean you don't want me to get you into the qualifying rounds?" Niko asks. We're gathered around my locker as usual, where we like to regroup between classes. Vanessa nudges him like he's being unsympathetic, but all he says is, "What? I kinda need to know."

I shrug. It's not like I don't have a bike to ride – my parents might have taken mine, but thanks to my mother's lack of observational skills, she's not aware I've been riding Tyler's. Still, after the blow-up we had, I'm not sure I want to risk lying again, even for racing.

"As soon as I've decided, I'll let you know," I say.

He nods, and the pair of them are extra nice to me, with Niko offering me his cheesy fries at lunch. As much as it sucks that I'm in this situation, I'm grateful at least that I've made friends here.

For the rest of the day, I focus on my classes, trying not to think about later. I'm dreading my shift at the track, mostly because watching the others ride while knowing I can't is torture, but also because a part of me is nervous about seeing Tyler. Nervous that he doesn't want to talk now that he no longer needs me, and nervous I even care.

I don't.

***

As soon as we pull up to the track, my heart does this summersault. Mom waves me off, so I begrudgingly head up the steps to the patio, maneuvering past the crowds of people who have gathered for the evening race. Friday nights are always the busiest, and tonight is no exception.

Inside the bar, Alex is busy wiping down tables but stops when she sees me. I try to smile before heading out back, where I put away my things and slip on my track t-shirt, followed by my little black apron.

"You okay?"

I turn to find Alex leaning on a locker, head tilted in concern. "Fine," I say. "Well, no, not really. I'm not allowed to race anymore." I thought maybe I'd be mad when I saw her, but I'm not. She couldn't have known when she'd pointed me out that I'd been lying to my family.

"What do you mean you're not allowed to?" she asks. "Who's stopping you from racing now? Sam? Tyler? I swear, I'm going to–"

"It's not them," I say, sighing. "It's my mom. She found out I'd been lying about racing, and now I'm grounded."