Walking down to pit road the next morning, I ran into Elliott, who was headed in the direction of the garage area.
"Hey, E!" I yelled, though he wasn't far from me. He was wearing sunglasses and his M&Ms hat was pulled down low over his eyes, as if trying to block out every ray of sunlight, but it was mostly cloudy.
"Shh! Not so loud," he whispered, adjusting his hat a bit.
I smirked. "Have a little headache this morning?"
"A little? I'd rather die at the moment, Darlin'."
I laughed, rather loudly, then covered my mouth quickly. "Sorry. Who's bright idea was it to have the bonfire the night before the Shootout anyway?"
"Junior's," he sighed. "Who else?"
"Figures. Hangovers never seem to affect him much. Wonder how he does it."
"Must be one hell of secret, I'll tell you that. Everyone else is about as dead as a doornail this morning."
As if on cue, Junior strolled up to us at that moment, smiling quite brightly.
"Well, hello you two, beautiful morning, isn't it?"
I cocked an eyebrow at him. "No hangover again?"
"No, it was there. Oh man, I definitely felt that one. But it's all about coffee, Gatorade, and plenty of water in the morning. A little soup helps too, of course."
"Gatorade? Soup?" I asked. "How do those help?"
"Warm Gatorade helps with the nausea and the soup is something that your body can easily handle without making yourself throw up."
"That's different. I'll have to keep that in mind, next time I'm drinking. Which, knowing you guys, won't be long from now."
Junior laughed. "I’m sure it won't be. So, Elliott, ready for practice?" Junior clapped his hand on his shoulder and Elliott winced from the hard touch.
"Sure. Not like I have much of a choice," he answered and they walked away together.
"Have fun last night?" a voice said behind me. "I heard you hung out with this really cool guy." I turned to see Denny.
"Full of yourself much?" I laughed.
"Nah, I was just kidding. Did you have fun though?"
I nodded. "Yeah, it was nice to be around everyone again, just hanging out and such."
When a deflated look washed over his face, I quickly added, "it was fun getting to know you as well. Although, you did kill my marshmallow."
"Still haven't forgiven me, huh?" he smiled. "Damn, I thought we were actually getting somewhere. Note to self: do not, under any circumstances, however funny you think they may be, set Mikaela's marshmallow on fire. She will not let it go."
"Actually, I'm over it but that's not to say I'll let you live it down anytime soon," I grinned.
He shook his head, smiling still. "Fair enough, I guess. Well, I have to go."
"Practice, I know. I'll see you later?"
"You will definitely see me later," he winked at me.
I rolled my eyes. "You're a dork, Hamlin. Do you honestly think stuff like that works on us girls?"
"Most girls, it does. But not on you, apparently," he laughed.
"Well, you'll be happy to know I'm not like most girls."
"They all say that, yet in the end, all of you are the same."
"Like you boys are any different," I retorted.
"I didn't say we were. But at least, we can admit it."
"I'm not like most girls, I know that. I don't need some boy trying to tell me otherwise." I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Some boy, huh?" His smile fell.
"I know who I am. That's all I was saying. I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't. But it did occur to me that I know where I stand with you. I hope I can change that."
"And where do you think you stand with me? Since you seem so sure of it," I said, maybe a little too harshly.
"You don't trust me yet. Not even in the slightest. You might tell yourself that you do, but you don't, I can clearly see that. You act all nice and everything towards me, well, sometimes you do, but you've definitely got your guard up when I'm around. You're not that way with any other guy I've seen you with, not even with ones you've just met. And especially not with Kyle; you trust him. Maybe all I need is a chance to prove myself to you. I'm not a bad guy, Mikaela. You can trust me."
"You don't need to prove yourself to anyone, Denny, especially me."
"Then why won't you let me in? All last night, I was trying to get somewhat close to you but everytime, you'd push me further away by changing the subject."
"Don't you have practice you should be getting to?" I asked, abruptly.
"There you go again," he said, noting my change of subject.
"Denny!" It was Mike, beckoning him from their garage stall. "Come give the car a try. We think we've got something good going on."
Saved, I thought. Thank you, Mike. I'd rather not get into this right now.
"I should go. I'll see you around, okay?"
"Mikaela, wait," he protested.
But I was already gone and I wasn't about to turn back. Walking back to the driver's compound, I thought about what Denny had said. Maybe he's right. Maybe I don't trust him. Not yet, at least. But why don't I trust him? He hasn't given me a reason why I shouldn't. But something inside of me was telling me to stay away; that this boy was only bad news.
Tony was emerging from the coach as I arrived, dressed in a black tee shirt with the sleeves of his Home Depot firesuit tied around his waist.
"You're not at practice yet?" I asked. "I thought you were gone when I got up this morning."
"Nope," he simply said. "Shawn just called and woke my butt up a few minutes ago."
Shawn was Tony's PR. She was nice, though she hardly ever took crap from anyone, especially not from my brother. She kept my brother in line- well, most of the time. Sometimes, the things that come from Tony's mouth can't be controlled. But she was good at her job.
He began to walk away, not saying anything else.
"You're not still pissed at me, are you? About Thursday?" I called.
He stopped and turned to me. "Not really. We'll talk later though."
I nodded and he continued on his way. I watched all of the morning practice session in Tony's coach. Denny was putting down lap times close to the top, while Tony was deep in the back, the low thirties. Kyle was running about half way between them. Harvick had the best car out on the track. Apparently, they hit something right.
I was checking my e-mails after practice when there was a knock at the door.
"Hey, you weren't at practice today, you okay?" Kyle asked, stepping inside. He was already showered and dressed in a Kellogg's shirt and a pair of jeans.
"I'm fine. I thought about going this morning but I was just too tired," I lied. I didn't feel like explaining the words that had been exchanged with Denny at the moment.
"Feeling the effects of last night?" he laughed.
"Actually, no. I didn't drink much. Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one who got smashed."
"My head still hurts a little but I'll live."
"I see practice wasn't so great."
"Yeah, we just couldn't get the car to do what we wanted."
"I'm sure you guys will figure it out."
"Hopefully… Have a fun night last night?" he asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
"I did. What about you?"
"Sure. If you can call throwing up all over the backseat of Jimmie's car, fun. Then yeah, I had fun," he laughed.
I wrinkled my nose. "Gross. Thanks for sharing. Maybe that'll teach you not to drink so much."
"Maybe but I doubt it."
"You're not even twenty-one yet. I can't imagine what you're going to be like once you can legally drink."
"Guess you'll just have to wait and see. I have to run; I have a few appearances to make before the next practice later today."
"All right. I'll come to the next practice, I promise."
"You better, or I'll come and carry you down there myself," he smiled.
I laughed. "You probably would."
"Do you want to come with me?" he asked, suddenly. "I was thinking we could grab lunch after?"
"Sounds tempting but I really need to talk with Tony; I'm sorry, KB."
"It's cool. Just thought I'd ask. I'll see you at practice then." He turned to leave.
"Hey Kyle?"
"Yeah?"
"No more drinking for a while ago, okay? Damien wouldn't approve."
"I'll try but I can't make any promises. It felt good, you know? To just forget everything for a while."
I nodded. "I figured that's why you drank so much but that isn't the way to go. I'm still here for you."
"I know. But I don't need you."
Ouch. That stung a little.
When I remained silent, he shook his head and added, "That's not how I meant it. I mean, I don't need a shoulder to cry on right now. I'm okay."
"Right. Whatever you say." I turned and went to Tony's bedroom to take a nap; behind me, I heard the door close with a soft click.
"What was Kyle doing in here and why are you lying in my bed?" Tony asked, a few seconds later. I lifted my head from the pillow and stared at him standing in the doorway.
His eyes widen. "Please no… you two didn't… do it in my bed, did you?"
I laughed at him. "God no, Tony. You're disgusting. I would never have sex in your bed. For one, it smells like dirty boy. Do you ever shower before you lie down on this thing?"
"Sometimes," he smiled, slightly. "When I feel like it."
I shot up and jumped off the bed, rubbing my arms. "That's gross. I feel like I need a shower now."
"I was only kidding," he laughed. "I shower everytime I get out of that car and especially before I touch my bed."
"Does this mean you're not mad anymore?"
"What's to be mad about? Sure, things got a little crazy but it's over with."
"I'm sorry about causing a scene; I didn't mean to catch the attention of the entire garage. It's not how I wanted to start things off."
"Don't worry about it; it's done," he said, immediately dismissing the subject matter. "So, what's going on with you and Kurt's younger brother?"
"We were just talking; he came by to ask why I wasn't at practice. I told him I was tired. He had appearances to do, so he left. End of story."
"Well then, if you haven't got any juicy details to spill, that shower is calling my name."
I rolled my eyes. "Like you'd want to hear juicy details from your own sister anyway." I left the bedroom, so he could undress, and then the coach entirely, when he came strolling out towards the shower in a very short towel.
I stood outside Tony's coach for a few minutes; unsure of where I should go to pass the time. My conversation with Denny that morning replayed itself in my mind as I walked away and before I knew it, I was standing in front of the door to his coach. Part of me knew that I needed to apologize to him, maybe even explain a few things but the other part of me- the stubborn part- was willing me to just walk away.
After a moment of debating with myself, the stubborn side won. I turned on my heel and started towards Elliott's coach.
"Mikaela…" I stopped and listened, heart pounding hard in my chest. For a moment, I thought I had imagined it as I had yet to see anyone else around me.
"Mikaela…" someone whispered again.
Slowly, I turned to face the direction the voice had come from, only to see Denny poking his head out from behind the door of his RV, squinting his eyes a bit.
"Jesus, Hamlin. You scared me," I answered, starting back towards his coach. There it was again, the same attitude from this morning. I bit my lip hard - anything to keep me from sounding so snippy.
"Sorry. I saw you standing outside the door. Did you need something?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Actually, I came to apologize."
"For what?"
"About last night. And earlier too. I didn't mean to be such a bitch to you. You didn't deserve for me to treat you that way. I also wanted to say you were right. I don't trust you and it's not that I don't want to, I just can't seem to let myself. It's… complicated to say the least," I said, all a bit rushed.
He held the door open for me. "Come in and we can talk."
I nodded, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, trying to just… relax. Stepping inside, I took a seat on the black leather couch. My gaze fell to the floor as he sat next to me.
"You were saying?" he asked when neither of us spoke for a moment.
"I'm sorry. Really sorry, Denny. About everything. If I could take it all back, I would."
He nodded. "I have an idea then." He stood up and faced me.
I looked up at him, slightly confused. "What's that?"
"Hi, I'm Denny," he smiled, sticking out his hand.
I shook his hand, laughing. "I'm Mikaela."
"Well, Mikaela, it's very nice to meet you." Then, he hesitantly added, "Will you go out with me?"
"Sure," I smiled, dropping his hand and standing up. "I'd love to."
He looked at me, a bit stunned. "Really?"
"Why not?" I laughed.
"I didn't think it was going to be that easy," he laughed with me. "So, when?"
"That's up to you. I'm not the one who's busy with the racing."
"Well, what about tomorrow night? Dinner around seven?"
"Sounds good," I smiled. "Thanks for understanding."
"No problem. I'm just glad that you're giving me another chance." Then, suddenly, he hugged me.
The next practice session didn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped. It was cut a half hour short as rain began pouring down, soaking the entire track and leaving crew members to scurry about, covering up war wagons and pushing cars into their stalls before it got any worse, and delaying the long awaited Budweiser Shootout until Sunday. Though, no one seemed to mind, in fact, most seemed even grateful for the rain, as most drivers scrambled into golf carts and headed towards the driver's compound in a small attempt to stay dry.
Tony and I were settling down in his coach, getting ready to watch a movie, when a small tap on the door interrupted a transition of showers. We looked at each other, me drying my hair with towel after just stepping out from the bathroom and him lounging on the couch, remote in hand. When he didn't move from his spot, I rolled my eyes at him and went to open the door.
"Mikaela!" A girl threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me.
I pulled back and examined her face for a moment, searching for a sign of familiarity. "Michelle?"
It can't be. I haven't seen MV since high school. She wouldn't know I was here.
"Of course it's me," she smiled. "It's so good to see you. How've you been?"
"Good, I guess," I managed, still not sure of what was going on. "What are you doing here?"
"Your brother invited me," she laughed, then stopped suddenly. "He didn't tell you?"
"My brother invited you? Tell me what? What?"
"Tony!" she scolded. "I can't believe you didn't tell her. You said you were going to."
Tony rose from the couch and made his way towards us. "I was going to but there's been a lot going on lately. You know how it is." He placed a small kiss on her lips and snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her into a hug.
"Okay, seriously, what the hell is going on here? Someone needs to start explaining some things."
"Mik, this is Michelle, my girlfriend," Tony answered.
"Your what?"
"Girlfriend," she smiled at me again.
"I think I need to sit down."
After a few moments of silence and a few more sloppy kisses exchanged between them, Tony excused himself to take a shower. I sat on the couch across from the spot where Tony had once been, picking at the frayed hem on my favorite jeans.
"So, how long have you two been going out?" I asked, not looking up.
"A few months," she answered, taking the seat next to me.
"Huh," I mused.
I can't date other drivers but yet, he can date my friends. Am I missing something here? Or is my brother's logic actually seem a bit hypocritical?
"Why do you ask?"
"Just wondering. I mean, he is my brother after all. You'd think he'd tell me about something like this. What happened between you two? I know you had a crush on him when we were in high school but I thought that's all it was."
She laughed, a bit of light brown hair fell in front of dark green eyes and she tucked the strands behind her ear. "That's all I thought it was too. A few of my friends and I went to the Indianapolis race last year. One of my friends was able to get garage passes and well, while wandering through there, we managed to run into your brother, who, let me tell you, was not nearly as fine when we were in high school as he is now."
I laughed. "Wow. He must really be good looking now because, if I remember correctly, you use to refer to him as Mr. Gorgeous in high school.
She continued, "Shut up! Anyway, to my surprise, he remembered me and we ended up talking for a bit. Before we parted ways, I gave him my number, thinking he'd forget all about me and that he wouldn't call, but it was worth a try, you know? Well, that Monday, I received a call from him, asking if I wanted to go to dinner. Obviously, you know my answer."
"Tony's pretty persistent when it comes to women - well, and racing too, of course," I smiled.
Lying wide awake and hearing giggling and other indistinguishable noises coming from your brother's bedroom in the middle night is not what I call pleasant. Slipping on some sandals and a hoodie over my pajamas, I made my way over to Kyle's coach. I knocked lightly on the door several times.
Within a few minutes, the door opened and Kyle stood before me in boxers and a tee shirt, looking disgruntled and half asleep.
I winced. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"
"Yeah but it's fine. You okay?"
"I'm fine. Can I sleep on your couch?"
"Sure but what's wrong with Tony's couch?" He stepped aside to let me in.
"You don't want to know," I sighed, following him into the coach. He disappeared into his bedroom as I kicked off my sandals and unzipped my hoodie.
I collapsed onto the couch, not even bothering to pull out the bed, a blanket and pillow hitting me in the head about the same time. I looked up to see Kyle standing a few feet from me.
"Thanks," I said, throwing the blanket over me. "I didn't want to bother you but I didn't know where else to go."
"Mmhm," he muttered, waving a hand behind his head as dragged himself back to bed.
"Night, KB," I whispered as his door closed.
