"Is everything okay? Your phone keeps going off," Drake said.
"I'm sure everything's fine. It's not like I have much else besides this."
Griffin and my old friends from my racing team were all that really came to mind anyway, and they were all thriving without me. Well, except Griffin couldn't even make it through an entire race without taking too much damage to the car.
"You should probably take that. Everyone else you care about is in a pretty risky line of work, you know?" Drake said.
Sure, I almost died one time, but that was years ago.
He took a step back and didn't take his eyes off of me. The phone stopped ringing.
"You didn't even look to see who it was," Drake said.
"I like to live on the edge like that," I replied, and when my phone started to ring again, I let out a sigh. "I should probably get that."
Drake nodded, and he headed back inside for a moment. I had no idea how long he and Josiah were out working on the robot, but they were at least out there since I got up in the morning.
I took the call outside, and although it was an August morning, it was still kind of cool outside. The grass was wet with dew, and the tree that guarded the front door didn't even cast a shadow on the porch quite yet. I looked at my phone, and of course, it was Griffin who called me.
"Guess who failed inspection four times?" Griffin said.
Four? Jesus. There was no way he'd have his crew chief for the race, and he'd have to start in the back of the pack.
"Wow, that sucks. Did they fine the shit out of you and take away points?" I asked.
"Fortunately, it wasn't that egregious, but even though the whole thing is supposed to be mechanized, I'm starting to think the officials have it out for RTR," he said.
"That's real funny, especially since they loved to pick on me."
"Well, they keep drug testing Elizabeth too, so it wasn't just you."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Not really. Anyway, I was calling because there are some rumors in the garage here, and I wanted to hear something from you. You've been talking to Team Moretti, haven't you?"
Team Moretti? They were one of the best overall teams in NASCAR, owned by an Italian former F1 racer who figured he could make quite a bit of money in stock car racing. He was right, and he was one of the biggest threats in the garage.
"Uh, no. I haven't been talking to anyone really. Wait." Did I seriously ignore some calls from my agent? I grimaced. "Oh my god. You really think Andre Moretti wants to sign me for next season?"
"Well, that's what I've been hearing. Bailey's pissed about it," he said.
Of course. Tyler Bailey was the centerpiece of Team Moretti. And that meant that if this deal happened, we would be teammates.
But when it came down to it, the label teammates only meant that we weren't allowed to wreck each other for shits and giggles. The only reason it was important when I was on RTR was that Griffin and I made it mean something.
"I don't know whether I should sort this out now or put it off and make out with Drake instead," I said.
"What?"
"What?"
"Drake? Wasn't that the one that was an asshole, but not as much of an asshole as the other one?"
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One For The Road
चिक-लिट"Oh my god, this Corvette is so fucking sexy." I ran my hand along the peeling red paint. It wasn't in the best condition, but a Corvette was a Corvette. "Can I drive it?" "There's no engine. We used it for parts," Drake said. My heart sank into my...
