Page 76 of Kiss My Glass
“Yeah, he phoned me, too, but I was on another call. He didn’t leave a message.”
“He’ll keep calling until I give in,” I say. “Okay, I’m going to switch off my phone. It’s the only way to get some peace today, and I’mdeterminedto enjoy myself.”
“Okay, sure,” says Danny. “I’ll switch mine off, too. I often do over the weekend, especially when I’m out hiking. If someone gets pissed that they can’t reach me whenever they want, I don’t want to deal with them, anyway.”
“Thanks for being in my corner,” I say.
“Always,” says Danny. “See you soon.”
I end the call and switch off my phone. I feel both guilty and liberated. I’ll be there for breakfast tomorrow, and Mom and I can talk then. But right now, I’m going to have a me-and-Danny day, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.
ChapterForty-Two
DANNY
Iunderstand where Frankie’s coming from. All the same, I’m a little concerned that Nate’s tried to get hold of both of us, so I leave my phone on until I pull up in the parking lot of the go-kart track. For a second, I think about calling him, but that would feel like betraying my promise to Frankie. So, I double check that there’s no message and switch off my phone.
The go-kart track is indoors, a twisting circuit with enough challenge for experienced drivers but not so hard that amateurs can’t enjoy it. I scan their promo blurb – hot dang, the karts go up to forty-five miles per hour. I book a race slot for me and Frankie, and a practice one for me, and get handed a helmet and given a place to wait until it’s my turn. These karts look like a cross between a racing pedal car and a hovercraft. The drivers out on the track right now are a family group that resemble mine but are in no way as competitive. That sister just let her brother pass without weaving slowly in front of him to make him insane. Incredible.
I catch a whiff of Old Spice before I see her. Frankie sits down beside me.
“You’re early,” I say. “I’ve got a practice lap coming up in five minutes.”
“That’s why I’m early,” she says, with a smile. “I’m going to study your style. Take notes.”
I smile, indulgently. This will be pickleball revenge. She will eat my dust.
I get the signal that it’s my turn. Kiss Frankie before I pull on my helmet. Strapped into the kart, I await the green light and then scorch it until my fifteen minutes is up. I hop out, expecting a round of applause, but the track staff aren’t paid enough to care, so I’ll have to settle for unbridled awe from Frankie…
…who says, “Not bad. Your line was off on a couple of corners.”
“Excuse me? My line was perfect.”
“Uh huh,” is her maddening reply.
In my mind, I hear Ava taunting me with her “sore loser” chant. I’m going to get us some soda and take some calming breaths while I’m at it.
Soon enough, it’s our turn. Frankie looks cute in a helmet. We get the safety briefing, then we’re strapped in and ready to go. We coast to the start and wait for the green light. And we’re off!
Goddamn it, she’s ahead! How is that even possible? Did she bribe someone to give her the fastest kart? I put my foot to the floor and start gaining ground. Next corner she goes wide, I’m undertaking.
I sit on her tail the whole goddamn way. Cannot get past. She zips from side to side like a speed skater and corners like a pro. Our fifteen minutes are up. I … have lost.
This race. I’ve lost this race. No wayshe will beat me in the next. Which means I can be gracious in defeat.
“Nice work,” I say, and can’t help adding, “Almost like you’ve done this before.”
“Not go-karting,” says Frankie. “But before the Karmann Ghia, I owned a Nissan Skyline R33 and used to take it to the track for hot laps on a Friday night.”
I stare at her for a good half minute. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”
“Because we’ve been too busy having sex to talk about our past lives in any detail?”
“What model R33?” So help me, I’m a car salesman.
“1994 GTS25 Type S,” she replies. “Could never even hope to afford a GT-R.”
“You’re going to win the next race too, aren’t you?” I say.
