Page 6 of Race to Me

Kate brings me in for a hug, and thankfully her arms are around my shoulders and not my waist. “I’ll see you later! Have to go meet this new roommate.” Her fake enthusiasm makes me chuckle.

“You better not like her more than me!” I joke as she walks away, wishing it were me who could stay on campus with her.

∞∞∞

My sneakers squeak against the gym floor as I rush into practice. I’m the last one here, by the looks of it. “Why aren’t you in uniform?” Coach Parks checks me off on her clipboard, looking unhappy.

I give my brightest smile, “I was wondering,” I look away, sighing when I see my teammates glaring back at me, angry that I’m slowing practice down. “Are there any more uniforms? I don’t feel comfortable with how short the top is.”

I wait patiently as she takes in my request. Finally, she leans in so the other girls can’t hear, saying, “I never liked those when I cheered either. Here. Medium?” She hands me a new top from a nearby cabinet.

Air releases from my lungs in waves. I didn’t know what I would do if my only option was the other top. “Thank you.”

I change, returning to practice and going through the routines until I can barely stand. I’m already worn out from gym, and I should have never signed up; it isn’t mandatory for my major. But it was the only way me and Kate could have a class together.

After practice, I drag myself to the parking lot, not bothering to change out of my uniform. Cracking open the back hatch, I throw my cheer bag in.

“Not only does she drive a range rover, but she’s also a cheerleader.”

I roll my eyes before I turn towards Foster’s deep baritone. Thankfully, he’s still here even after school’s ended for most.

He’s now in a white T-Shirt, but still in dark jeans and boots. Black splotches smother his clothes, face, and hands. “Why are you so dirty?” I ask, surprised.

With a crooked smile, he places his grimy hands on the roof of my car. “I’m here for mechanical engineering, so when someone breaks down, they call me.”

“Oh,” I imagine him working on cars. His muscles flexing while he sweats underneath the hood.What?Why am I even thinking of that? “I’m actually glad you’re here. I was looking for you earlier.”

Foster slides closer to me, his hand still placed on the hood. “Missed me?”

His cocky tone earns a yawn from me. “You took the assignment.” In reality, him being so close makes my heart race.

“I did that on purpose so you would see it’s not the end of the world.”

I throw my head back, sighing loudly. How after one day of knowing him can he annoy me so much? “Can I have it back?”

“Tomorrow,”

Damnit. “Why?”

The way only half of his smile shows, crooked ... dangerous. “Because tonight, you’re busy.”

“With?” My heart races. Is he about to say I’m busy with him? Is Foster going to ask me to hang out? Would I be ab—

“With whatever rich people do on Monday nights,” He deadpans, sliding away from me. I bite my lip, feeling foolish for my thoughts. “Relax, Freckles. We have plenty of time.”

His eyes travel down the length of my body and surprisingly, I don’t mind. I think he enjoys messing with me. Annoying me.

“I’ll relax when it’s finished. Just let me get started,” I extend my hand, but he shakes his head, a boyish grin softening his hard edges.

“It—”

“Foster!” A new guy, one equally covered in grease, comes towards us. A guy like Foster, but not as strikingly tall. Tattooed and in all black, light-skinned, and holding a helmet in his hands. Quickly, Foster fumbles through his backpack and practically tosses the assignment towards me, giving up the cat-and-mouse game abruptly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He walks away, not turning back to look at me as he greets his friend with a shake. The two walk off, but when the guy turns back to look at me, Foster slaps his large hand across his friend’s shoulder, directing his attention forward.

I can’t hear what they’re saying when they walk towards their bikes.

As I said, stereotypical but true.

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