Spinning Out

Chapter 13

JAINA

I hear his car once he's at the end of my street. It's loud and rumbles like a low growl as it makes its way to my driveway. I'm not usually a girl with a lot of confidence when it comes to boys, but I need Elijah. I can't help but feel like he was put in my path for a reason. He has a love for cars that could help me find whoever did this to Nathan. Also, he isn't hard to look at.

I don't give him a chance to get out of the car before meeting him. I don't need my parents involved in this. I reach for the handle and he leans across the seats to help me pull it open. The old, solid door swings powerfully on its hinges. This car is a work of art.

"Hello again," he says.

"Hello. Are you ready for the best burrito of your life?" I ask. I 've been at the hospital all day. The only food I've had is a bag of Cheetos and a Dr. Pepper.

"I'll be the judge of that," he tells me as he backs out of the driveway. I point him in the direction of my and Nathan's favorite spot.

"They are open until 8:30. We don't have much time," I warn.

I swear Elijah's eyes twinkle at that challenge. He smirks from beneath his hat. The move makes my insides feel warm.

"Bet," he says.

He adjusts in his seat as we reach the end of my street. He chances a quick glance out of his rear view as if to check that no one is watching me leave, then he floors it onto the main street. It feels as if the front of the car lifts like we are about to take off in a plane and my body presses back into my seat. The road is clear due to the time of night, and we are flying.

The car shift through gears seamlessly, a beautiful sound I had never paid much attention to until now. I watch his hand grip the steering wheel for a the briefest of seconds before turning my attention back to the road. I'm holding my breath as we cover miles in no time at all.

"Left on the next street,' I finally manage to get out.

His grin exposes a few of his perfect teeth and he slows to stop for the light. He knows he's just caused my heart to race and my blood to pump with such fierceness through my veins. I can't hide it. My excitement is written all over my face. My hand smooths my hair as his car rumbles and growls at the red light. As soon as it switches back to green, I lean back in my seat, this time I don't take my eyes off of him as he drives like it's his profession. How can such a young man look so powerful under the dim lights of passing street lamps?

"End of the block turn into the small lot," I say almost out of breath. It's hard to breath when the air seems to be sucked out of the interior.

He smiles and nods. We are in the lot and parked before my thought have a chance to stop swirling in my head.

"I've never been here. Didn't even know this place existed," he says casually like we weren't just driving like the cops were chasing us. He's calm and poised as he unclips his belt and then does the same for mine. I'm stunned. He opens the door and comes around to open mine. He offers his hand to help me out of the lower seat. Seats in these cars aren't like the new ones. There are no seat warmers or extra fluff. No, seats of this era seem to have just served the purpose of helping to get you where you want to be...and I'm pretty happy being the girl with my hand in his as he helps pull me from the car.

He smells good, his soap and shampoo are floating on the night air as I stand on my own and let his hand go. We walk towards the door and I wait as he opens it and gestures for me to step inside. I haven't been in here since the accident. I guide Elijah past the "Seat Yourself" sign and to the booth in the back. It's my favorite. You can keep an eye on anyone who comes in and also have private conversations.

We have barely sat down when the waitress brings the best chips and salsa in this town. She stares at Elijah, prompting him for his drink order. He looks back to me, being the gentleman that he is and allow the lady to order first. But they know my order. Nathan and I are regulars here and have been since we could ride our bikes as kids.

The waitress adjusts her pen on the tablet, "She wants a Dr. Pepper. And you?" she asks.

"Same," he tells her.

She makes her way to the drink machine and I reach for the chips.

"Come here often?" he asks rhetorically.

"It will be your new favorite place too," I tell him honestly.

"Ok, then order me what you get," he says.

I nod. When the waitress returns with our drinks I hold up two fingers. She gets it.

"I was surprised you found me on Insta," he says.

"You weren't hard to find," I tell him.

"I get that. What I mean is I wasn't expecting you to reach out. I had a great time with you at the car meet, but you didn't stick around much when I dropped you off." Elijah scoops some salsa onto his chip.

"I have a lot on my mind," I tell him. I needed to think of the best way to get him onboard with helping me. I don't trust him enough to tell him everything. I need him to help and not judge. I don't want anyone else trying to talk me out of doing this research. I wouldn't tell my parents and I won't tell him yet.

"Fair enough. I'm glad you found me," he says. His eyes say he can be trusted, but this is too important of a mission to risk it yet.

"Do you ever race your car?" I ask.

I watch his body tense. The ship that was on its way to his mouth freezes in the middle of the table. He looks away, then back again as if trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say...or maybe how not to say what he doesn't.

"I take it to the track sometimes," he admits.

"Never on the street?" I ask. I know I'm pushing it, but I want to know how involved he is potentially in the world I want access to.

"No," he says. I believe him. Even though he seems tense, I don't think that's the lie. I'm not sure what he's holding back.

"You told me your friend is in a car club," I remind him. "Don't they race?"

He seems to relax. His shoulders lower and the tense look on his face melts away. "Oh, it's not really that kind of club."

"I don't think I will ever understand all of this," I say. It feels like there are so many layers to this whole world of cars and car clubs and I don't even know where to start

"It's a lot, but it isn't complicated," he assures me. "My friend is in a car club that likes exhibition. They drive fast, but don't usually race each other," he says but then stops and appears to rethink. "Actually," he corrects, "that not true. I've seen them race other cars but not usually from the same club. But it isn't like the movies. I guess it really depends on what kind of racing you're talking about."

The waitress arrives with our food and it looks so amazing I almost forget that we are on track to the information I need.

"You know the guys that race on the freeway?" I ask.

"That's not the kind of racing I'm used to," he says quietly as he studies his burrito. It comes out like a stream of consciousness more than an answer to my question. Almost like he hadn't even realized he said it.

"What do you mean?" I ask. My fork clanks against the side of my plate and pulls his attention back into the moment.

"Huh?" he asks confused, but then quickly catches up. "Oh, umm the racing that the assholes do on the freeway aren't the races I like to watch. It requires more balls and stupidity than talent and planning."

"It's all dangerous," I tell him.

"It is, but some them have a little more control than others. Have you ever been to an actually 'backroads' street race?" he asks.

"No," I say. I don't tell hm that I didn't know until just now that there was a difference to any of them.

"I'll take you."

It's hard to swallow the bite in my mouth. It feels like I've made some progress. I want to tell Nathan I might have just gotten my key to this world that spun his life out of control without a care.