Page 21 of Jump Start

Later on, as I read through the second draft of my newest piece, I realised that Thomas had not texted me back, and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. How could I have gone from feeling such disdain for him to this? I took my coffee cup to the break room and made an espresso. It was much too late in the afternoon for one, but I had to do something to keep my mind busy. Mindlessly scrolling through social media, I recognised a familiar face on the Echidna Racing page.

“Hey guys, Thomas Henry-Jackson here. Today, we are out at Eastern Creek doing a few showcase laps in the new BMW concept car. Keep an eye out.” His voice sounded sincere, but I could tell by the look on his face that he hated every single moment of being filmed for that. Holly would have had her hands full. A few seconds later, a live icon popped up and Chris Verco appeared on the screen with Will by his side, his usual grinning self.

“Yeah, so today we’re testing out a new concept supercar, which we are very excited to be a part of. Thomas and Will are doing a few test laps and some promotional work, so come along for the ride.” Chris motioned to the camera as he started to walk to the edge of the racetrack. I saw Thomas adjust his helmet and crouch into the compact supercar.

That’s why he hasn’t messaged you. He’s busy, I thought. I closed the live feed down and sighed in relief. I’d seen him on test days, and half the time he didn’t even know where his phone was.

As usual, I called my family that night to catch up on all the gossip for the week. My mum had convinced my dad into a couple’s spa earlier on in the week, and my brothers were both away on exercises so we wouldn’t hear from them for a while.

“We miss you, darling. We arehoping to come and visit you this year, but we’ll let you know,” my dad promised towards the end of our call. I missed my family so much. I really wanted to make an effort to see them more.

As I was getting ready for bed, my phone announced through my earphones that I had an incoming call.

'Thomas Henry-Jackson (Prick)'calling. I answered hesitantly. “Oh, so you do know how to use a phone,” I said, smiling to myself as I imagined him rolling his eyes.

“Give me a break,” he chuckled. “I was driving a concept supercar today and I didn’t even know where my phone was.”

“That’s what they all say.” My reply was flirty, and I found myself changing my posture as I spoke to him, twirling my hair in my hands like a giddy schoolgirl.

After we caught up about the day, I was surprised at how the call ended.

“So, when are you coming out to my house?” Thomas asked out of the blue.

“Is that an invite?” I retorted.

“Come round for lunch Sunday, I’ll cook.” I instantly pictured him in an apron with a pair of tongs in his hands.

“What will it be? Sausage sizzle?”

“Are you capable of answering without sarcasm?”

“Fine sausage sizzle it is, I look forward to it,” I replied and hung up the phone.

I suppose I did answer his question, but I sent him a text message.

Me:What’s your address? Should I bring the onions?

I waited eagerly for his response.

Thomas:Just bring your usual,sassy self

Then he sent through his address. Of course, the first thing I did was look it up online, concluding that he lived so far away I would need a passport to get there.

Eleven

Thomas

What’s your address? Should I bring the onions?Harper’s sarcastic text message made me smile. I steadied myself against the kitchen bench and wrote back,Just bring your usual sassy selfand sent through the address. Having her in such close proximity was going to be interesting, to say the least. I knew she would be trying me on for size, and I guess I was doing the same thing. We had been in each other’s lives for only a few months, but things were getting less aggressive between us and more calm, friendly even. Our date had gone well, but I wanted to make sure what I felt was real when she kissed me the other night. I didn’t really have time for a relationship, but I knew I could make time for the right person.

I decided on a barbecue for lunch because it gave me an excuse to use my outdoor kitchen, which was currently gathering dust. As I trolled the supermarket, I put sausages in my basket.There you go, Harper,I thought. I could imagine her face when she saw that I was actually doing a sausage sizzle. Of course, it would be a little more sophisticated than that—salad, corn on the cob, grilled chicken, that sort of thing.

I stocked my outdoor fridge with low-calorie beer, as I had no idea what she liked to drink during the day. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to drink at all at this stage in the season, butwhat Chris didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

My house was as presentable as it would ever be, so I thought I would spend some time working on my baby, my 1975 GTO Monaro—the only thing I’d ever loved in this world. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic, but one of my favourite things to do was tinker around and fix things on her while I was home, which sometimes was only a few days at a time.

This house that I had built for myself and my GTO were my two biggest accomplishments, things I was proud to say I earnt. My upbringing was privileged, there was no denying it, but I refused to let that dictate how I would progress in my chosen career. Sometimes, I would use only one of my last names when I applied for jobs or entered karting races, ‘Thomas Henry’ or ‘Thomas Jackson’. I guess that was one of the good things about having a hyphenated last name. My family were one of the top racehorse stud breeders in the country, so of course people knew who I was and who my family were. I wanted to make a name for myself outside of that, and preferably entirely on my own.

I had planned on getting changed before Harper arrived but, as usual, I got lost in my GTO and by the time I heard tyres on the front driveway, I was already wearing the dingiest shorts and T-shirt with holes in it that I owned.

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