Page 173 of Trading Paint

On the way back to the hauler some smartass member of the press said, “It’s not that bad kid, smile.”

Did he honestly understand what he was saying to me?

Sure, I lived a good lifestyle but what he didn’t realize and never would take the time to, was that was not me.

I would never be satisfied with anything less than a win. It had absolutely nothing to do with the lifestyle I had. It had to do with the fact that this was me, being the best I could. So if I had a shitty race, I wasn’t going to smile as I let myself down.

I called Sway on the way to the airport after the race. She was in good spirits which helped.

Though the conversation was quick, it was needed. I tried to picture her face, wanting to burn the image into my brain, never forgetting how perfect she was, the delicate twist of her mouth when she smiled, or the way her eyes sparkled at the mention of ice cream.

After Fontana, we flew back to Virginia for the Richmond race, which is a three-quarter mile, “D” shaped asphalt oval.

Most of my excitement for Richmond came from the fact that it was a night race, under the lights. There’s nothing better than a night race on a short track to me, it always brings me back to where I started, which made me think of Sway.

Heading into the Richmond race, I was running third in points despite the horrible finish at Fontana and hopeful to gain some ground on Tate and Darrin who were ahead of me. Darrin didn’t make this easy.

Prior to the race that night, he ran into me on pit lane when I was talking with Aiden.

“Why can’t Tommy spot for you tonight?” Aiden asked distraughtly.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” I reached inside my car for my ear buds. “You spot for me every week.” Iwasn’t understandinghis vagueness as towhyhe didn’t want to spot tonight. “Besides, Tommy is in Grand Rapids tonight.”

“Well,” Aiden began shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “Have you ever been onthattower in a night race?”

“Not that I can remember. Usually I’m in the car.”

He let out a nervous laugh. “Exactly...you have no idea how many bugs are up there.”

“Bugs?”

“Yes,bugs. Lots of them,”

“Close your mouth.”

Although I refused to step foot on the tower, I knew about the cicada in Richmond and to say they had a problem was an understatement. It was nearly a pandemic with those noisy obtrusive insects.

“It’s not that simple.” Aidan argued. “How do suppose I spot for you with my mouth closed?”

“Really Aiden, this shouldn’t be that hard.” I pointed to Jeb, Bobby’s spotter. “He wears a ski mask on night races. You do the same.”

Aiden seemed satisfied with that answer but still tried to pay Ethan, the kid who drove the hauler from race-to-race, a thousand dollars to spot for me. Ethan declined the offer.

Apparently,the bugs werethatbad at Richmond.

With any luck, Aiden would focus on the race instead of the bugs. You rely on your spotter heavily at tracks like Richmond where things happen and reaction time needs to be instant. Spotters not only act as your guide, with poor visibility due to all the safety devices in place, you can only see the car directly in front of you. That’s where the spotter comes in. Trust is essential, if I didn’t trust Aiden completely, he wouldn’t be spotting for me.

I have to be able to say, “Is there room?” and if he says, “Clear high,” he better be right.

If not, I just pushed someone up the track, possibly wrecked them and maybe a few others.

How do you think I would feel about that?Shitty.Not only do I take all the heat for that but our team has to salvage a wadded up car all because Aiden misjudge the car beside me. Like I said, trust.

After introductions and Aiden’s rant, I was getting ready to get inside the car when Darrin walked past.

There was more than enough room in between, me and Spencer, for him to maneuver past us but no, he ran into my right shoulder knocking me forward against my car. My arms instinctively braced myself against the door.

The media was hovering so I kept my response short.

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