He turned to leave and I should have stopped him.
The door closed behind him with a resounding click that told me we were over, officially. I waited a beat and then rushed to the door, wanting to throw it open and apologize. But what would be the point? We’d just fall apart again, in some other heartbreaking scene in the future. I twisted the doorknob and opened it just an inch, silently watching while my first love walked away.
He reached the end of the hallway and stopped. My heart went cold, the sudden rush of hope sparking up my insides. But he didn’t turn around. He reached into his pocket and took out a small black box. Staring at it for a minute, he dropped it into the trashcan and left.
I raced down the hallway, my heels clacking on the tiled floor. The box was sitting on top of a pile of old fast food bags and I grabbed it, feeling the velvety exterior. Once I was safely back in my dorm room, I held the box with shaking hands and opened the lid.
It was a silver necklace. The pendant was a dirt bike number plate, the number three-three-six on it. My eyes filled with tears as I turned it over in my hand. Hana & Ash was engraved on the back.
This was better than flowers.
I guess breaking up made sense now. I didn’t deserve Ash Carter.
Chapter 27
Regionals Race Day
It’s four in the morning and I am awake five minutes before my alarm. My body knows the drill by now. I throw off the covers and make my way downstairs. I grab a granola bar and scrawl a note telling Teig good luck, then leave it taped to the bathroom door. I go through all of the same motions as I would on any other race day, only this time I’m doing them alone. There’s no Molly in the kitchen making breakfast burritos, and Dad isn’t already at the track flipping on light switches and brewing coffee. Today, it’s all up to me and the small staff at Mixon Motocross Park.
A loud knocking on the front door makes me jump and stub my toe on the pantry door. I’d been reaching for a third granola bar, which was doing nothing to cure my morning hunger like one of Molly’s burritos does.
Door-to-door salesmen don’t come around before the sun is up, so it’s probably Marty stopping by for some reason. I amble over there, actually craving some coffee for the first time in my life, and pull open the door.
Shelby waits on the welcome mat, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Hana . . . Fisher,” she says, uncrossing her hands and putting them on her hips. “I don’t know your middle name or that would have sounded more menacing.”
“What the hell did I do to you?” I ask, a smile playing on my lips so she knows I’m not really upset. She bends down and retrieves two Starbucks coffees that she’d set by her feet and hands me one.
“Did you put these on the ground just so you could cross your arms when I opened the door?” I ask.
She nods. “I had to because I’m mad at you. Well, disappointed, more like.”
I roll my eyes and take a sip of the coffee, wondering how she knew I’d need this caffeine boost to get through the day. It tastes delicious, hot and sugary with a hint of creamer. Shelby can order a good cup of coffee. Not that I’m willing to admit to liking the stuff just yet.
I let her inside. “What did I do?”
“You’ve completely shut me out of what’s going on with your dad!” Her knuckles turn white over the paper sleeve of her coffee cup and she shakes her head. I realize now that she’s wearing a Mixon Motocross shirt and the old running shoes she wears when she works at the track. “I can’t believe the races are still going on! You guys should have cancelled it. But I had to find out from Dorothy when I went to visit Mr. Fisher at the hospital last night. She said she was worried to death about you and Marty because you’ve been working yourselves like crazy. I thought we discussed at dinner the other day that you need to slow down.”
She peers down at me because she’s a little taller than I am, and something inside of me writhes in agony. Her disappointed expression looks so much like her twin brother’s and I can’t stand this. “Sorry I haven’t talked to you much lately. It wasn’t on purpose, I’ve just been so busy. And I know you wanted me to slow down but I can’t. This race has to go on.”
“Why didn’t you just cancel the race? Your dad’s health is more important.”
I shake my head. “Since this is a Regionals race, it’ll earn more than half of our yearly income from this weekend alone. I couldn’t just cancel the race and have Dad’s financials screwed up for the rest of the year. God knows how much his medical bills are going to cost, you know?”
She frowns and sips her coffee. “I guess that makes sense. Mr. Fisher was doing okay last night when I saw him. He’s still all sedated and everything, but Molly said he was doing good.”
I stare at my name, scrawled in black marker on the side of the coffee. “I just know that if we can pull off this race, then Dad will be proud. It’ll be one less stress for him to come home to. So yeah, thanks for the coffee, but I have to get to work.”
“You mean we have to get to work,” she says, donning a grin that also reminds me of her brother. “I’m here for you, Hana.”
“Thanks,” I say.
We gather some things for work and decide against taking one of our vehicles to the track since there will be so many racers and spectators today that parking will be limited. It’s much easier just walking across the dew-covered grass, no matter how much I hate the icky feeling on my legs.
“I feel like we haven’t talked in forever,” Shelby says while we walk. “What’s up with you and Ash?”
“You’ve been dying to ask that, haven’t you?” I let out a chuckle that sounds way more lighthearted than I feel. “I don’t think there’s anything up with us. His career is literally on the line right now, so we haven’t talked much.”
“Yeah, he said if he doesn’t get a good finish time at tonight’s race, then he’s screwed. I’ve got it set to record on the DVR in case I’m here too late to see it. God, I hope he does well.”