Page 53 of The Fake Date Deal

“So it’s fair to say, then, you’re not confident?”

“What? No, of course I am.” I pushed a boom mic aside. “Rafael’s unpredictable, but that’s all he’s got. He leans too much on that element of surprise. I’m a better driver. It comes down to that.”

“But he won your last race. He?—”

“Excuse me.” I couldn’t go without Eve one second longer. If she wasn’t out here, she’d be in my room. She waited there sometimes when the crowds got too wild.

“Marco, wait! Did you know you set a record today? It’s just been confirmed, you?—”

I squeezed through the press, shaking my head. Grinning all dazed like I couldn’t quite hear them. “Sorry, I gotta — just hit up my agent. We’ll set up some interviews, but I need to, uh…” I broke free and went jogging up off the track, out through the garage, straight to my room. The words were already poised on my tongue, ready to burst from me, all I needed to tell her.

Eve, I don’t want you to go to New Zealand. Or go, but come back. Come back to me.

I want to be with you, Eve. With you for real.

This might’ve started out as a joke, but I’m serious now. About you and me. I know you must feel it. I see in your eyes…

I flung the door open. Shouted out “Eve!” But my room was dark, empty, no one in sight. I checked in the bathroom, but it was dark in there too.

“Eve?” I leaned into the hallway and peered up and down. “Danny? Hey, Danny, have you seen Eve?”

He turned and looked for her, then shook his head. “Was she meeting you here?”

“I don’t know. I thought so.”

“Shoot her a text, then. She can’t have gone far.”

I scrambled out my phone and pulled up her contact.

Hey, in my room. You ok?

The dots popped up, vanished, then popped up again. They hovered for a long time, then disappeared. I stood gaping, waiting, but no reply came.

Eve? Are you ok? I can come get you.

Her response popped up instantly, like she’d been waiting.

Peach season’s over. Have fun with your friends.

“Peach season? What?” It hit me mid-text and I froze, stiff-thumbed. Like eating peaches. The season is short. Had she somehow heard that?

I didn’t mean that, I wrote.

I’m stupid. I panicked.

My texts didn’t go through. They hung undelivered. I called her up, frantic: straight to voicemail.

“She blocked me. She blocked me.”

“Eve? Man, that sucks.” Danny scratched at his chin. “But you were done, right?”

I slammed my door in his face and leaned against it. My whole face was burning, my neck and my ears, a rush of hot shame. She must’ve come back, to wish me luck maybe. How much had she heard? The whole conversation? I ran through the whole sorry thing in my head, me not defending her. My peach remark. One petty moment, and I’d torn us down. All we’d had or could’ve had, and I’d gone and fucked it.

Juicy. Refreshing.

The season is short.

I wanted to puke, knowing I’d said that. Knowing she’d heard it, how that must’ve hurt. Just the thought of rejection had brought out my worst side. Being slapped in the face with it, how much worse was that?

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