Page 60 of Revved up & Ready

“It’s just family.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re not very good at taking compliments either, Cam.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” I shrug. “Got another tattoo you want to ask about, or are you gonna explain why you always have purple nails on one hand and pink on the other?”

She tries to hide her flinch behind a shake of her head. “You go. Tell me about the tortoise and the hare,” she says, smoothing pink-painted fingertips over the brightly-colored, old-school style tortoise and hare that race each other across the outside of my left forearm.

“I always liked the story,” I say, bringing my arm down between us, so she can inspect it further.So, she’ll start touching me again.

She does—tracing lines around the outline of the oak-colored hare and olive-green tortoise.

“The hare seems like the clear winner,” I say, watching her face as she watches her fingers trace around my arm. “And hewouldhave been if he had any respect for his opponent. But he doesn’t think the tortoise is a real threat, so the hare lets off the gas. He rests. The tortoise keeps his head down and works slow and steady the whole way. He wins because he never gave up. Butalsobecause the hare fucked up. In the tattoo, neither of them is winning. There’s no finish line because things don’t always turn out the same as the original fable.”

She flips my arm over, confirming my statement. “I hadn’t even noticed.”

“The story is full of racing lessons, but it applies to regular life too.It’s not over ‘til it’s over. Never get too cocky. Never give up—even if it seems like you can’t win. Focus on your own progress.You ever heard the phrase‘slow is smooth, smooth is fast’?”

She nods.

“It’s true—good racing advice and good life advice. When I get you out on the go-kart track, I want you to remember it.”

“When?” she giggles, dropping her mouth open, pretending to look offended. “You’re assuming I’m willing to race go-karts.”

“I know you well enough.”

Her eyes narrow, and she tries and fails to draw her lips into a frown. “Dammit, Cameron.You’re right. Idowant to try it.”

“Good, because I already reserved a track.”

“You did?” she tries to look offended again before burying her face in my chest as she snorts a laugh. “I can’t even be mad at you. I love not planning things. That’s magnificent.”

“Everyone’s coming,” I say. “Luke, Allie, Bea, Rhett, and Devon.”

“Everyone?Not just us two?”

I nudge her shoulder. “You have to have people to race.”

“Now I’m nervous.”

My heart races when she buries her face in my chest again. Running a hand down her back, I say, “You don’t need to be. You’re going to be a great racer. Plus, you and I are getting there an hour before everyone else, so you have time to practice.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“Nope,” I say, releasing her as I pick up her left hand—the one with purple nails. “Why did you get uncomfortable when I asked about your nail polish?”

“I did not—” She starts to deny, but stops herself, taking a deep breath. “Okay, I did. Because it’s dumb.”

“Doubt that.”

She draws her knees up, but instead of holding them tight to her chest, she drops them across my thighs—leaning her head on my shoulder. “It makes mefeeldumb is a more accurate way to say it.”

I’m not always a great listener, but it’s easier with Sadie. I want to know her so badly. Pulling her closer, I rub my hand up and down her biceps and wait for her to continue.

“I have a really hard time with left and right,” she says, staring at her lap. “For some reason, it doesn’t stay in my brain. I can’t seem to learn or memorize it. I have an innate understanding for up and down, but left and right changes depending on which way I’m facing.” She finally looks back at me. “If someone saystake a left up here, I have to think really hard to figure out which way that is, and half the time I end up getting it wrong anyway.”

I had no idea. Why does she feel like she has to hide that?

She holds her hands up in front of us with every finger tucked in but her index and thumb on each hand—making a field goal shape. “This is the easiest way for me to tell.” She wiggles the extended fingers on her left hand. “See? The left hand makes an actual capitalL, but the right hand doesn’t. So, if I hold my hands up like this, I know which is which, but that’s embarrassing. Most people know their left from right.It’s so basic.”

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