Racing Savannah (Hundred Oaks #4)

Racing Savannah (Hundred Oaks #4) Page 27

“I miss you,” he murmurs.

I nod toward the staircase. “What about Kelsey?”

“Nothing’s going on with her. We’re just friends.”

“Does she know that?”

“I’ve told her I don’t want anything serious with her. But she’s my friend and she’s been ditched by friends before, and I won’t do that to her. But about you and me, can we talk privately? I want to find a way for you and me to be together…”

“Well, I don’t want to be waxing the damned floor, but we don’t always get what we wish for.”

Jack stands and takes a step back, glaring down at me. “Fine.” He marches out of the room, his boots crashing down on the floor.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead and get back to work.

Later that evening, someone raps on my door while I’m reading the Daily Racing Form. “Come in.”

Rory opens the door and sits down on my bed with me, pulling me into a hug. “I want to kill that bastard for making you feel so bad.”

I laugh softly, clutching his T-shirt.

“You didn’t sleep with him, did you?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I thought you like it when girls sleep with guys after two minutes?”

“Not you,” he says. “Not you. I think Jack’s a dumbass. He obviously wants you…”

I know.

“Come eat dinner with me,” he says. “We can go to Tennessee Ballers.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Will you run over my lines with me later? I’m auditioning for the school play.”

I love that he’s trying to distract me. “Are they doing the play you wrote? Call Me When Your Mom Is Back in Town?”

“No,” Rory says, sighing deeply. “Mrs. Towne said my play was too risqué for high school. We’re doing Peter Pan.”

“Oh, I hope you get the role of Peter! You’ll get to fly around the stage hanging from those cord thingies.”

He winks. “You just want to see me in green tights.”

“Ugh.” I laugh, and then Rory goes to find dinner, because when you’re a seventeen-year-old boy, food outweighs all else.

An hour later, Cindy shows up carrying a tray with a piece of chicken, some cooked carrots, and a small glass of milk. She brings it to my bed and sits down beside me, patting my leg. Just like Dad this afternoon, she can’t seem to meet my gaze, and her face is red.

“How’s the baby?” I ask.

“The doctor says she’s fine,” Cindy replies, sniffling. She pinches her nose. “I guess some women have more difficult pregnancies than others. He said I shouldn’t be doing so much physical labor.”

“Are you going to tell the Goodwins?”

“In the morning,” she replies, wringing her fingers. “I’m afraid they’ll let me go…I’m afraid I’ll have to move away from you and your dad.”

“Don’t think that.” I give her a hug. “It’ll be okay.”

That’s when Dad appears in the doorway.

“I don’t really want to talk to you right now,” I say, making him wince.

“I wanted to say thanks for helping with the floors today.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for my little sister.”

Dad comes in and shuts the door. There’s hardly room for him to stand in here.

“We need to talk about what happened yesterday,” Dad says. “You need to underst—”

“I’ve been working hard on the track!” I interrupt. “I’ve been giving Mr. Goodwin money I make so that Cindy can take time off. So you’ll have more money to spend on the baby. And then you yell at me and call me selfish and say I’m doing reckless things. And Jack has been so nice to me—I thought he wanted me—”

It all comes pouring out. Who is this weak girl speaking with my mouth?

My hands are shaking and my heart is thumping against my chest. A cool, slimy feeling flows through my body, as if somebody’s dipping me in a vat of ice water.

“I didn’t ask you to help with our bills,” Dad says quietly. He moves toward me, as if he’s going to hug me, but I hold up a hand.

“Don’t,” I cry, putting my face in my hands. “Just leave me alone.”

“Shortcake,” Dad says, but I shake my head.

“Please go away.”

He sniffles and rubs his eyes, and Cindy’s tearing up. I can’t bear to hear them say I told you so. I just can’t. Not after he yelled at me and wouldn’t listen yesterday. I can’t bear to tell them they were right about Jack.

I clutch my pillow and stare out the tiny rectangular window near the ceiling. Life is so damned unfair. When I looked out Jack’s large bay window, I could see a million stars. My window is so small, I can only see a handful. If I had been born to a richer family, I’d have so many more stars to wish upon.

“I’m sorry I got upset,” Dad says softly. His eyes glisten. “I’m so, so proud of you. For getting a jockey position at a top farm. For even thinking about college.”

I nod and let him hug me and rub my back. Cindy holds my hand and combs my hair with her fingers. “You’re the strongest girl I know,” she says quietly. “I wish I were more like you.”

I smile at her through my tears, and she takes my hand and places it on her stomach, so I can feel a kick. I suddenly can’t wait to meet my baby sister.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” Dad says. “It’s just, you’re growing up, and I can’t protect you from everything.”

I haven’t cried like this since the day I found Moonshadow’s body. I let them hug me, wishing I could forget how I hooked up with Jack and shared a part of myself with him. I gave him something I’ve never given anyone else.

The honest to God truth is that I’m mad at myself. I should’ve known better.

It’s Thursday evening, and Vanessa, Rory, and I are meeting his cousin Alex at the county fair. A double date. I’m pretty excited about it, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

I love fairs. Something about the idea of walking around holding hands with a guy under the night sky makes me feel like I’ll find my one true love here. The fair is full of hope.

We hop out of Rory’s truck into muddy divots and begin making our way up to the ticket booth covered with flashing lights. The night is crisp and cool and smells of popcorn and cow poop. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and anxiously scan the crowd for Alex.

“Calm down,” Rory says with a smirk.

“Quiet, you,” Vanessa says to Rory. She flashes me an excited glance.

A couple minutes later, I see Alex coming our way. I fight the urge to bounce on my tiptoes. He’s dressed very comfortably—jeans and flip-flops, and his T-shirt and over shirt are untucked and a bit wrinkled. I love how Jack always looks so put-together, but I like Alex’s look too. And of course I adore his floppy Whitfield hair.

He gives Rory a pat on the back then hugs Vanessa, and finally turns his focus to me.

“Hey,” he says.

I stick out my hand to shake his and he takes it, smiling into my eyes. His fingers are warm, and I’m excited about what might happen tonight. I hope whatever happens makes me forget how much I miss Jack. I force his face and smile out of my thoughts.

We each get $5 worth of tickets—enough to ride the Ferris wheel, slam each other in bumper cars, and get queasy on the Tilt-a-Whirl. The smell of funnel cakes and fries wafts under my nose, mesmerizing me just as much as the flashing lights and bells dinging when kids win prizes.

Our first stop is the Tilt-a-Whirl, where Vanessa and I scream our heads off and get sufficiently nauseous, while Rory and Alex have a grand ole time. Then Rory and Vanessa want to ride the Ferris wheel, so we head that way. Alex and I watch them climb into a bucket seat and grab the handlebar as it settles in their laps.

“Riding the Ferris wheel must be code for making out,” Alex says, as Vanessa and Rory start pawing at each other.

“Yup.”

“Want to?” he asks, pointing at the ride.

“Make out?” I tease.

He pauses for a sec, looking freaked out. “I meant ride the Ferris wheel.”

“I was joking.” My face feels a million degrees.

Alex walks up to the ticket taker guy and when I try to pass over tickets of my own, he waves my hand away. “I got it.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“But wait. Are you tall enough to ride the ride?” Alex asks, pointing to the ruler.

I give him a faux evil look and go grab a seat. We grasp the bar, looking straight ahead as the wheel moves backward in a lurch, lifting us up into the black sky. From way up here, you can see all of downtown. The Franklin Theater marquee burns red and gold. A blue light flashes on top of the water tower.

Alex looks at me sideways. “In full disclosure, I haven’t been on a first date in a while.”

“I’ll have mercy on you,” I say with a laugh. He doesn’t date often? That’s hard to believe. Wind rushes against my face as the Ferris wheel reaches for the stars again.

“So you’re a horse jockey?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. “That’s pretty sexy.”

I give him a friendly shove and launch into telling him about last week’s race and my hopes for this weekend at Keeneland and the upcoming Dixiana Derby. Alex watches my face and asks questions about jockeying and soon I’m quizzing him.

“I’m a biology major at Middle Tennessee State,” he says. It turns out he likes rock climbing and spends most weekends in the woods.

When we get off the Ferris wheel, Vanessa and Rory say they want to ride it again—which is code for wanting to make out some more, so Alex buys us a funnel cake and we walk around, chatting and licking powdered sugar off our fingers.

I see lots of people from school. Colton Bradford and Kelsey Painter are hanging out with the cheerleading squad and guys from the football team. They’re taking turns going down the Megaslide, squealing and banging against each other as they land on the cushioned bottom. Colton and Kelsey wave at me, and it doesn’t escape my notice when they check out Alex.

Colton mouths at me, “He’s hot!” and makes inappropriate gestures with his hips, and I grin back at him. What a perv. It surprises me that Jack isn’t with them tonight. And it surprises me even more that Kelsey waved at me.

“How about the Fun House?” Alex asks, and we spend a few minutes giggling into a mirror that makes us look about a thousand pounds apiece.

“You need to go on a diet,” I tease.

“On second thought, you’re not my type.” Alex chuckles as I shake my hips, making my thousand-pound self dance in the mirror.

His phone rings, he fishes it out of his pocket, and stares at the screen. “I need to take this. C’mon.”

We leave the Fun House, and while he chats on the phone, I go over to the dime toss game where I pay three tickets to throw five dimes into little glass bowls filled with water. I miss all five times.

That’s when I see them.