Page 8 of Be Still My Racing Heart
As I attempt an easy layup, Trevor manages to steal the ball from me with a perfectly-timed move. He dribbles past the free-throw line before turning around and taking a jump shot. For a kid who’s nearly a foot shorter than I am, he has impressive skills. He just might be one of those players who break the stereotype.
The ball drops into the basket before landing in my hands. “And now you’re getting schooled by a kid half your size. You aren’t taking it easy on me, are you, Ryder?”
Shaking my head as we switch places, I pass the ball to him to reset. “Nope, I’d never do that. Letting someone win doesn’t push them to be better, but I am a little distracted. I owe you more than that. My apologies.”
Tossing the ball back and forth between his hands, Trevor weighs his words thoughtfully. “You don’t owe me anything, Ryder. I’d take getting beat by a girl pretty hard, too.”
I laugh as he checks the ball. Once I have it, I do some fancy footwork to keep him guessing which way I’m going to go. “I have no problem getting beaten by a girl, Trevor. I have a great deal of respect for any woman who challenges herself and earns her way to the top. Most people think that driving a car fast is easy and that anyone can do it, but it takes strength, agility, and coordination to maintain control of the vehicle. It requires both physical and mental conditioning. Both the centripetal and centrifugal forces, while in a turn, take their toll on the body.”
I attempt another layup, but anticipating Trevor’s knack for stealing the ball from me, I stop and pivot, taking the shot from further away.Swish
“Nice shot,” he says as he makes his way to the free-throw line. “It’s not getting beat by a girl that has you distracted; it’s the girl herself.” Laughing, he blows right by me and does a perfect lay-up that clinches his victory.
In desperate need of hydration, I walk over and sit on the bench to drain a bottle of water down my gullet. Trevor joins me, and I hand him a towel to wipe the sweat from his face. “Good game.”
“It would have been better if you hadn’t been daydreaming about Blake,” he retorts. “But I can’t fault you; she’s a hottie. If I were ten years older, I’d ask her out.”
I clasp his shoulder and grin. “She’d be lucky to date you, but I noticed a few girls your own age eyeing you up, Trevor.”
He shakes his head adamantly. “I’m not dating until I’m out of college. I don’t want the distractions of love to get in the way of achieving my goals and dreams. Girls are all clingy and needy.”
“There will come a time when you appreciate a woman who comes to you for love and support, and the right woman will lift you up and help you achieve your goals. They won’t be a distraction, but they will stand behind you and push you to be your best. You’ll want to do the same for them.”
“But you’re distracted by a woman,” Trevor challenges. “You want to kiss her, and it’s got you all twisted up inside.”
“I do want to kiss her, but that’s not what has me all discombobulated. Blake has a true gift, and I’m trying to figure out a way to get her to race without ruffling anyone’s feathers. If I do what I want, it could cost me my job with Morrison Motors.”
I don’t understand why I’m confiding in a 14-year-old boy; he’s not mature enough to offer sage advice. I’m the one who should be mentoring him, not the other way around. Yet, here we sit, me voicing my innermost thoughts and waiting for him to weigh in.
“I’m not sure why wanting to help Blake would cost you your job, but is the job worth it if it stops you from doing the right thing?” he asks. The question is innocent enough, yet it does give me food for thought.
It’s not the job that’s stopping me; it’s my employer.
Blake
“Isn’titchildslavelabor to use me to rebuild this hunk of junk?” Mina asks as she wipes the grease from her hands with a shop rag. She’s a 16-year-old who has just moved from karts to open-wheeled cars. Her goal is to one day win the Indy 500, and my knowledge of cars makes me the perfect person to mentor her.
“You’re learning how each part of the car works and what purpose it serves, Mina. This knowledge will help you understand your vehicle and recognize the signs if something goes wrong. Additionally, it can save you a significant amount of money in labor costs if you manage to fix a problem yourself.”
“I’m going to be rich enough to afford it,” she retorts. “I’m going to be just like you and become a billionaire.”
I sigh. “I have no doubt that you’ll make that happen. I have every confidence you’ll accomplish whatever you set your mind to.” I don’t bother explaining that it’s not me who’s wealthy. Like Ryder said, I will be one day, even if I don’t care about the money.
“If you’re so good with cars, Blake, how comeyoudon’t race? Why did you stop after karts?” It’s a question I’ve been expecting since we were paired up three weeks ago.
“I race my brother all the time, and just this afternoon, I beat both him and Ryder at Harris Hill. You don’t have to be a professional to enjoy a sport, Mina. It’s the competitive spirit that drives you to succeed in whatever you choose to do. Is there anything beyond the Indy 500 that you wish to achieve?”
She hooks the chains to the engine block as we prepare to lift it out of the vehicle. “My parents want me to go to college, but I’m not sure it’s the right fit for me. I enjoy cars, Blake. I know I joke around and give you a hard time, but I really enjoy learning and working on this project with you. I also love changing the oil and tinkering under the hood with my dad.”
“It’s important to please your parents, but also to do what’s right for you,” I tell her. “Find out why it’s important to your parents for you to go to college. Once you understand their motivation, you’ll be in a better position to make an informed decision.”
I rotate the crank on the hydraulic lift, and together, we watch the engine slowly rise. Mina half-heartedly shrugs. “They want what every parent wants for their child: to be financially stable and get a good job. They don’t want me to ‘pinch pennies’ all of my life like they’ve had to do. I’ve tried to tell them that going to college doesn’t guarantee that, and that less than half the graduates have jobs in their field of study. Why waste their money on an education I’m probably not going to use? I don’t want them to go into debt over the idea that college is some magic pill. What should I do?”
As I continue to crank, I pause to consider how to phrase my thoughts in a way that won’t send her parents rushing over here to yell at me. “I recommend having a conversation with your parents about your desires. But—and this is a big but—you should have a plan for how you intend to achieve your goals. It should be well thought out. For instance, there are trade schools for becoming an automotive mechanic, and apprenticeships are available to learn on the job while you attend school, Mina. If you ever want to own an auto shop when your racing career concludes, you could pursue a business degree at the local community college or online. Auto mechanics earn a good income, and you get to do what you love. Regardless of your choice, have a plan so that your parents don’t feel like you are arguing with them just to argue like so many teenagers do.”
Mina helps me move the lift toward the back of the room and out of the way. “I hadn’t thought about trade schools. My counselors at school are like my parents, always pushing college as the pathway to enlightenment. I feel more enlightened after this one conversation.”
“Trade schools are often undervalued because they involve tough jobs. Yet, they are jobs that pay well since very few people are willing to do them. However, depending on your goals, college may also be a good option. Remember that the other half of the graduatesdofind jobs in their chosen fields. I’m not trying to sway you in any direction, Mina, because that’s not my place. Your parents genuinely want what’s best for you and believe college is the answer. It’s up to you to show them that there are various paths leading to the same destination.”
