"So, Mik, you're coming to the race next Sunday, right?" my brother asked me.
"Yes, hon, I am. I told you I would and that's exactly what I'm going to do," I answered. "I told you I'd be there that Saturday night. It's only Thursday. That's a whole week away."
I was flying out from Los Angeles, California to Daytona Beach, Florida to watch my brother race in the Daytona 500 as I did every year since 1999 when he finally made it into the NASCAR Cup Series.
Actually, I had flown out to Daytona already. Currently, I was in a rental car pulling into parking lot of the racetrack. I was going to surprise my brother by showing up a few days early prior to the first Nextel Cup Series race, so I could spend a few days with him in Daytona. Then, we'd both be back in California; him racing the second race of the season at California Speedway and me watching him hopefully dominate the track.
He was quiet for a while.
"What's bothering you?"
"Nothing; I just feel like this season is going to be a good one for me and I want you here to see it, that's all," he sighed.
I could tell he was standing behind the garages now. There was no way he'd actually have said those words with people around. If the media had got a hold of it, they would have made it seem like he was being cocky, where as he was only reassuring himself that his talent was still in existence.
"I'm sure you'll do great," I laughed. "You did win the championship last year."
"Where are you?" He must have heard the sounds from the track.
"I'm running errands before I have to go into work," I lied, showing the guy at the entrance my hard card.
With just a quick glance, he waved me in; the last name is probably the only thing he saw.
"Oh, I thought I… never mind." I saw him then, just as I pictured. Standing behind the garages on the right side, leaning against the wall with his back to me, and his phone pressed to his ear. As I got closer, I noticed he was watching another driver talk to his pit crew.
"Listen, I have to go," I said, stopping a few feet behind him. "There's this idiot in an ugly orange fire suit in my way." As he spun around with wide eyes, he almost dropped his phone.
"Mikaela!" he yelled, embracing me in a tight hug and lifting me off the ground a few feet.
"It's nice to see you too, Tony." I said, trying to squirm out of his grip. "But it'd be even nicer if I could breathe."
He let go of me. "Sorry, Mik." Mik was a nickname only Tony was allowed to use; he was the only person I could tolerate hearing it from without cringing and wanting to punch them in the face.
"Surprised much?"
"Definitely," he laughed. "You're such a liar."
"No, you're just too gullible."
"You're my sister. You're not supposed to be lying to me in the first place."
I grinned. "But you love me anyway."
"Not like I have a choice," he muttered as I punched him in the arm and he laughed.
His eyes fell on the same driver he was watching before. The guy was tall, although he was shorter than Tony, muscular, and he was blonde-haired and blue-eyed; basically, he was gorgeous. He stood, mostly facing us, chatting with a pit crew.
"Whoa," I said. "Who's that?"
"That would be J.J. Yeley. He's a rookie and one of my newest fulltime teammates," Tony answered.
"Fulltime teammate?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah, he's been around since '04, driving part-time in the Busch Series. Last season, he basically saved my ass during qualifying for the Chicagoland race after I was injured in practice. He got booted up to fulltime Nextel Cup Series driver because of it too."
"Nice," I stated. "Any way you could introduce me?"
He laughed. "Unfortunately for you, he's married and he has a kid."
"That wasn't what I was suggesting. But never mind then," I frowned. "Hey, so I heard Denny Hamlin's also a rookie for the Cup Series this season."
"He's also my newest fulltime teammate," he sighed.
"What's up? Are you two not getting along already?"
He shook his head. "It's not that - I mean, we get on along fine off the track so far. I just think that he and I will have a lot of problems communicating on the track."
"It'll be fine, you'll see," I gave him another hug. "I think I'm going to go find Junior."
"Well, that was fast," he said, giving me a suspicious look. "Is there something I should know?"
Great, here we go again, I thought.
"No, there's not," I protested, beginning to walk away. "We broke up; we're over with. Junior and I are just friends. That is something you do know."
"If you say so."
"Ugh, I don't get why you hate him so much." I turned to face him once again.
"I don't hate him, not really anyway; I just hate the fact that he's dating my sister," he said. "You know I don't like it when you date other drivers."
"Was. He was dating your sister!" I yelled. "We're through talking about this. I date who I want, got it? You have no say anymore."
When I realized I had caught the attention of a few drivers and crewmembers, I attempted to apologize; not for what I had said, but for making a scene.
"Leave," he said coldly.
"Tony, I -"
"Just fucking leave, Mikaela."
I turned and walked away; pulling my hat down low over my eyes so I could avoid the stares of those around me. I hated when this happened; us bickering at each other over stupid things like my love life. I still didn't understand what his problem with Junior was. He was a great guy and we weren't even together that long.
Dale Earnhardt, Jr. and I began dating at the end of the season in '04. We dated for about a year when we decided that a long distance relationship wasn't working out for either of us. The only time we saw each other was during the five races I attended last year and during the off-season of the year before. Although, much to my brother's relief, we had broken up, we still remained friends.
We had spent a lot time together during this past off-season, just hanging around his house in North Carolina. I'd say about four out of five times I wasn't working on the weekends, I was out with Junior.
"Hey Mikaela!" The voice came from behind me. I turned around but kept walking backwards. I didn't see anyone looking my direction and by the time I had turned around again, I tripped over someone in front of me. Someone else caught me by the arm just before I hit the ground. I looked up to see two guys towering over me.
"You should watch where you're going," the bigger, chubbier man said to me in a grumpy attitude. "Or you'll end up getting hurt." He was wearing glasses and a FedEx Racing cap and shirt, definitely part of a pit crew.
"I'm sorry," I muttered as the other guy pulled me to my feet. "I'm just really out of it."
The man grunted something incomprehensible and said his goodbyes to the guy standing in front of me.
"See ya, Mike," he said and turned to me. "Sorry, he's not always like that." This guy was wearing a black and purple FedEx Express firesuit and he was also wearing a FedEx Racing hat; he must have been a driver.
"And I'm not usually this clumsy," I smiled, taking notice on how amazing his greyish-green eyes were; they were simply beautiful. And then, it hit me. I knew who this guy was.
He laughed. "Nice to know. I'm -"
"Denny Hamlin."
"Yeah. And you are?" he said, slightly confused and scratched his head.
I stuck out my hand and he shook it. "I'm Mikaela." His hand felt warm and clammy against mine, even though it was a bit cold outside.
"Well Mikaela, you must be a big Tony Stewart fan," he smiled, indicating my Home Depot hat and my Tony Stewart shirt.
"Not by choice," I sighed. He looked a bit confused still.
"You're not a pit lizard, are you?"
"Excuse me?" At first, I was amazed that he would even assume that. Then I laughed and shook my head. "No, I'm not." A pit lizard was a girl who only came to races to hang out on pit road and try to hit on drivers, and to eventually hook up with one.
"Then, you must be a follower of Joe Gibbs Racing since you already know who I am."
"Not really," I said. "I'm just here to see my brother race."
He looked taken aback for a second. "Brother? Who's your brother? What did you say your name was again?"
I laughed again. "Mikaela. Mikaela Stewart."
"So, you're Tony's younger sister?"
I nodded and smiled at him. "the one and only."
"Well, I would have never guessed. You two look nothing alike," he said, eyeing me.
I grinned. "That's good to know."
"I have been hearing a lot about you lately."
"Great," I muttered.
"It's nothing bad though. Just stories about when you and Tony were little. I have to ask though, if you're not a real big fan of racing, how did you know who I was?"
"You know, when your brother's a famous racecar driver, you come to learn about his teammates. Whether you like it or not. That's the only reason I knew who you were."
"Hey Denny!" It was the Mike guy again, waving Denny over.
"I should go. It was nice talking to you though," he said, backing away. "How long are you hanging with Tony?"
"Just until the Daytona 500 race, then I'll be back home."
"I'll see you around then."
"Hey, have you've seen Junior by any chance?"
"Over by his car, talking with people." He waved as he reached Mike, who I finally realized was Denny's crew chief, and he turned his back to me.
Junior's car was down at the end of pit road, by the FanZone area. Even as I left Denny's pit area, I could see the small bright red Budweiser car; it always stuck out of the crowd, making Junior the easiest one to find. As I approached him, I noticed that he was talking to a few fans, all of whom were girls in their early twenties.
They're going to hate me, I thought. Oh well, more fun for me.
I took off my hat as I got closer to him and pushed the brown hair that had fallen from my ponytail back away from my face, so the girls could clearly see who I was. I gave them a smile as I finally reached him and stole his black and red Budweiser hat from behind, replacing it with my own Home Depot one.
This something we had always done. We'd switch hats with each other at the track for the day or I'd just steal his if I wasn't wearing one. As I placed his hat on my head, he turned to face me.
"Oh my God, Mikaela!" Like Tony, Junior picked me up in a crushing hug, only this time I giggled. I was getting dirty looks from the girls now and all I could do was smile; jealousy is a sweet thing. "I thought you weren't coming until Saturday before the race."
"I decided to come early to surprise Tony. I guess that includes you too," I laughed.
"Hell yeah, it does." He hugged me again. "I haven't seen you in forever; I missed you so much."
"Hon, you just saw me three weeks ago, remember?"
"I know but it feels like that was years ago."
"If you say so." By now, the girls were starting to walk away.
Junior winced. "Sorry, girls. It was nice talking to you lovely ladies." He smiled and waved to them; they smiled and waved back. Then, they began whispering to each other like a bunch of high school girls who just learned a new juicy rumor.
"Still a ladies man," I muttered under my breath. "They're a bit young for you, don't you think?"
"Mikaela, we were just talking."
"Uh-huh. Junior, honey, there is no 'just talking' with you. Trust me, I should know."
With that, he gave me a devilish grin.
"I'm sorry. I don't believe I remember that. Care to remind me?" he asked as he pulled me close to him.
I laughed and pushed him away. "Junior, stop."
He smiled and pulled me closer this time. His right hand slid up from my arm to my cheek, caressing it a little. He ran his thumb gently over my bottom lip. His breath felt hot against my face as he leaned in closer.
Just before he kissed me, I pushed him away again. "You wish."
He laughed at me. "You're such a damn tease."
"You love it though."
"You haven't changed."
"What do you mean?"
"Still the same old Mikaela everytime I see you."
"That's a good thing, though, isn't it?"
"Hey listen, I still have to find Kyle and a few others before practice starts," I said. "I'll see you later?"
"Of course." He gave me another hug and I walked off.
I found Kyle Busch talking to Elliott Sadler down by Elliott's car.
"Hey E, KB," I smiled.
Ever since I met Kyle, my favorite nickname for him was KB. Everyone else liked the name of Shrub because he was Kurt Busch's younger brother and the smaller version of a bush is a shrub. Though I never liked the nickname, as I found it a bit degrading, Kyle would reassure me it didn't bother him everytime it was mentioned.
"Mikaela!" For the third time that day, I was picked up and squeezed to near death, only this time it was by Kyle.
"What is with you guys today? All of you have been acting like you haven't seen me in years."
"Are you kidding me? Last time I saw you was at the Watkins Glen race in August. That was almost six months ago."
I smiled. "That's all on you. I called you during the off-season to come hang out with Tony and I several times and you refused."
"Only because I was doing charity work and taking care of other things. You know, I do still have racing stuff to do during the break. Just because you get to sit at home and relax, doesn't mean-"
"Okay, okay, you win. Case closed."
Elliott smirked at me. "Nice hat."
I ran my hand across the bill and remembered that I was still wearing Junior's hat.
I smirked back at him. "Thanks."
I was still hugging Kyle while I talked with Elliott. My arms were hidden in his black jacket, trying find warmth. Kyle's chin was resting on the top of my head, which was nestled against his chest. I could hear the slow-paced beating of his heart and the smooth deepness of his voice when he spoke. Kyle's arms were draped around me, falling just above my waist.
Though he made a few comments every now and then, Kyle seemed distracted but I didn't bother to question it. It wasn't until a few minutes later that Elliott finally seemed to notice us.
He arched an eyebrow at me. "Is there something going on with the two of you?"
I shook my head and buried my face into Kyle's chest, taking in the faint scent of his cologne, that familiar smell. Finally, I muttered, "I'm just cold."
Elliott took off his jacket and extended his hand, offering the jacket to me.
I shook my head again. "I can't accept that. It's far too chilly for you to be running around without a jacket. Besides, you can't afford to get sick."
"Take it. I'll be getting in my car soon anyway and I won't need it anymore."
I sighed in defeat and went to grab it from his hand when Kyle tightened his grip on me; I grimaced. Elliott laughed and shook his head, placing it down by my feet.
"I'll see you two later."
When Elliott was gone, I lifted my head up to look at Kyle. It was then that I noticed the tear stains on his pink cheeks and the few lone tears that had just begun to descend from under his sunglasses. I lifted a hand up and wiped away the remaining tears with my thumb. I removed his arms from my waist and grabbed his hand.
"You and I, hon, we need to talk."
I picked up Elliott's jacket from the floor and lead him behind the garages. I sank down against the wall and pulled him gently down with me. He left his head to rest on the wall. His hand was still holding mine, refusing to let go. I rubbed his knuckle with my thumb.
"What's wrong, KB?" The tears had yet to cease. "This isn't like you. You wouldn't be caught dead crying in public; let alone on pit road. What's bothering you?"
He wiped his face with the back of his free hand and choked out a simple sentence.
"Damien passed away; he was killed in a hit-and-run accident during the off-season."
I frowned at him and leaned my head on his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry," I whispered.
He rested his cheek against my head and sighed. We were quiet for a while. He took both of my hands in his and we sat there.
Damien Cook had been a good friend of Kyle's and also his roommate. He was always the comic relief in every situation. If you were having a bad day, he'd do anything to get you to smile, pretend to run into a pole, squirt milk out his nose - anything. You name it, and he'd do it without protest.
He'd come to every Richmond and Charlotte race because they were close to home. He flew out to Vegas last year too. You'd always see him in stands wearing a bunch of Kyle Busch merchandise and screaming Kyle's name from the top of his lungs during driver introductions; it was quite amusing to watch and yet just a little embarrassing to be seen with him. He was a great guy though.
After some time had passed, I spoke up. "How long ago?"
"About two weeks now."
I sat up and looked at him. "Why didn't you call me?"
"You were having fun hanging out with Junior and Tony; I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I just had to learn to deal with it."
"KB, you should have called me anyway. You know that I would have dropped everything and came to see you if something was wrong with you or any of your friends. I told you I'd always be there for you and I meant it."
"Exactly what I meant. I didn't want you to leave everything and come be with me. This wasn't your burden to bear. It was something I needed to get through by myself."
"But clearly, it still affects you. This is what friends are for, KB. They're there for you when things get tough and too much for you to handle. They're there for you when people you love pass away."
"You shouldn't have to be there for me when every little thing goes wrong in my life."
"You're right. I don't have to. But I want to. I want to because I care. I care about what happens to you on and off the track and whether or not something happens to a close friend."
He was quiet again, but the tears were gone.
"I love you, KB. I wouldn't be sitting here with you if I didn't. Promise me, you'll call me next time something goes wrong. I want to be there for you. But you have to let me."
"I promise," he said. "I should go. Practice should be starting and Alan will be yelling at me to get in the car soon. If you want, the pitbox is all yours but you don't have to."
I smiled at him. "Do you want me to?" I knew he was just trying to change the subject. He was hurting, that much I knew but it seemed like talking about it made him hurt even more.
"It'd be nice," he half-smiled.
"Are you sure you're okay enough to race just yet? You know we could always go and talk with Hendrick about Damien. He'll understand; he knows what you're going through, KB. I'm sure he could get someone to fill your spot for a few weeks. Until you're ready enough. You kn-"
"Mikaela, stop."
"It's okay to sit out a race or two, you know?"
"I know. But I'll be fine. Getting in that car is what I need. Racing is the only thing that will help me deal with this. You know that. It's what Damien would have wanted me to do."
He stood up and reached out his hand, pulling me to my feet. I grabbed Elliot's jacket and put it on.
"I'll be there in a few. I need to find DeLana before she finds out I'm here and then chews me out for not telling her I was coming."
Kyle laughed and I kissed his cheek. "I love it when you smile."
"Good luck, be careful, and don't do anything stupid."
Kyle grinned at me. "Now, when have I ever done a thing like that?"
"Don't get smart with me, young man."
He laughed again, hugged me, and then we went our separate ways.
