Shifting Gears

21. So Long, Jerkier Jerk

I thought my brother would want to skip the next race, seeing as he was banned from participating. But he came the stairs the morning of—a Tuesday, as they had to push the race back again until the rain finally stopped—dressed with his keys in his hands.

"Where are you going?" I questioned.

"The race."

His response was short, and I pursed my lips at him, about to just ignore him and turn back to my book I was reading on the couch. Since my conversation with Audrey a couple of days ago, that's about how all conversations between Clay and I had been the past few days. I didn't want to talk to him, or really be with him. Unfortunately, the rain persisted, and kept us cooped up here in this musty house.

On that thought, it might be nice to get out.

So I snapped my book shut, skirting around the ottoman on the plush rug to walk up to him. "I'm coming with you."

He had just finished pulling his shoes on, and he stood up, eyeing me. He had the top half of his gear on, apparently wanting to be as part of the race as he could, the light royal blue and black clashing terribly with the yellowed purple bruise on his cheek.

"Why?"

"Why are you still going?" I threw back at him, grabbing my vans and sliding them on.

He frowned down at me. "Because I—I need to check on something."

Okay, he could have just said he wants to be at the races and I'd not question it, but that was a weird answer. I frowned back at him. "What? What do you mean? What do you need to check?"

He averted his eyes. "I just did something, and I want to make sure it's followed through on."

"Did what?" I pushed, standing up straight and blowing hair out of my face.

He looked back toward me, and I thought I actually saw delight in his eyes. It was smothered, and hidden, and definitely an evil delight, but something had happened—or something would happen—that Clay wanted to get to the track and see.

I rolled my eyes. I didn't even press him, because I knew I wouldn't get an answer anyway. I'd just find out for myself.

"Well, I'm coming, because I could use some fresh air, and I want to make sure you don't do anything stupid again."

He looked like he might try to discourage it, but then he just shook his head, resigning himself to the fact that he had a stubborn sister, and walked out the door, leaving me to follow him.

— - — @ — - —

Word had spread quickly that Clay and Greyson were out of this race. There was an eagerness among the racers as they felt it was their time to shine, hungry for a chance to finally claim first and get the high points that top performers get. They nodded to Clay as we walked into the racing grounds, expressing sympathy but I could hear in their tone they were excited to have the chance to be the star today.

A few officials cast wary looks over to my brother, but relaxed when seeing he wasn't here to cause trouble or complain. Clay ditched me quickly to walk to the shop, apparently needing to tell Uncle Phil something.

So I watched the first race with Becka. Glen placed first, much to his girlfriend's delight. I smiled as I watched her jump up and down and run to the fenceline to give him a hug as he drove out. Glen had been doing well in this competition, he'd definitely make it to the final race.

As the last of the racers crossed the finish line, their gear muddy but the fierce sun drying it quickly, feedback squeaked in the air as the announcer tuned in.