The same green bike I saw at the Van der Berg house a couple days ago trails, and I guess that’s Terrance Holcomb.
Jerking my smile around, I see my uncle still engrossed in his work. How can he not watch this?
Envy paralyzes me. Noah looks like he’s having so much fun.
But I can’t stop myself anymore. Quickly, before Jake has a chance to stop me, I scurry over the dirt track after the bikes have passed and run up the green hill.
I look around, seeing if Kaleb is anywhere close, but I don’t spot him.
Joining the crowd at the top, I squeeze between two people in time to look down and see Noah speeding for the finish line head to head with Holcomb.
He revs his engine, popping up on the rear wheel, and races over the finish line, just moments ahead of everyone else as he lands on both wheels again.
The announcer’s voice booms, cheers go off, and I see Noah shoot his fist in the air.
I clap softly, my heart racing too hard to do more. Good for him.
I’m kind of jealous he’s so good at something like this. I’ve never been good at anything.
Spinning around, I head back to the tent, the spectators dispersing and the music starting up again.
Jake still busies himself working on something I’m sure is fine already, and I head over to the food stand next to our tent, grabbing some nachos and cheese.
Taking a small bite, I approach my uncle. “Would you like some?”
He meets my eyes but doesn’t look to see what I have. “No, thank you.”
I watch him as I dip another chip in and out of the cheese. “He’s really good,” I tell him.
He simply nods, going back to his work.
I narrow my eyes. Jake isn’t like my father.
But he is.
Hannes wouldn’t have watched me, because he wouldn’t have cared. Jake refuses to support Noah in this. Why?
Walking over, I’m about to set my food down and go back to handing out decals, but a crowd heads our way, people swarming Noah. I watch as he pulls off his shirt and throws it on our table, tossing me a cocky smile as he grabs my nachos away from me. He swipes up some cheese, dabs it on my nose, and then dives in, sucking it off as I growl.
“Noah,” I chide, squirming away, but he just laughs.
I was going to congratulate you. Never mind. I wipe the cheese and his spit off my nose.
Stealing my chips, he walks over to his father. “You know, I can be a lot more use to Van der Berg Extreme if I’m on TV.”
“Yeah, and then what?” Jake looks up at his son. “What do you think you’re going to do after your fifteen minutes are up or an injury sends you home in a wheelchair?”
Noah scoffs, shaking his head. “Were you even watching?” he says. “I won! I beat them all. I’m good, and I love it.”
“Motocross racing—”
“Isn’t a career,” Noah finished snidely, sounding like he’d had this conversation a hundred times already. “And keeping us chained up on the peak isn’t a life. You should deal with that.”
He spins around, shoving my nachos back at me, and stalks off again, circling the waist of some young woman, both of them disappearing into the crowd.
I risk a glance at Jake, seeing his jaw flex as he yanks the socket wrench counter-clockwise like it’s his kid’s mouth he’s tightening shut instead of a bolt.
So that’s it.
It isn’t hard to see what Jake loves and values about living his life on his terms, away from the horror of our family.
But Noah’s hungry for something else. He’s not lazy, careless, or uninspired. He’s unhappy.
Setting down my tray, I walk up and lean on the table where Jake works.
“Is he right?” I ask, hearing the man on the loudspeaker announce another race. “Are you hiding up here?”
He tosses me a look and then rises to reach around the machine, fiddling with something.
“Pull your shirt down,” he grumbles.
I arch an eyebrow, fighting to hold back a smile.
He tosses the tool and leans down on the table, letting out a sigh.
“Goddamn kids…” He shakes his head.
He looks over at me, giving me a sad smile. He might not want Noah to be hurt like he was, but if Jake knows anything, it’s that our parents don’t always know what’s best. I mean, who’s to say Flora would’ve been a happily-ever-after for him?
But he would’ve ran with her anyway, because we want what we want. Noah will do the same.
“Hey,” someone says.
I turn and see Cici Diggins walking into the tent with her hands in her jean pockets as she eyes me.
I still. Neither of our interactions have been particularly pleasant. What does she want?
My uncle moves away, off to dig in the truck bed for something, and I look back at Cici, her nose showing no sign that it was bleeding earlier today.
“Hi,” I finally answer.
She holds her hand out. “Cici.”
We shake. “Tiernan.”
I guess we haven’t been properly introduced.
“Are you okay?” I gesture to her nose.
But she just breathes out a laugh. “I’m the only one who hurts me.”
I release her hand, not sure what that means.
I glance over my shoulder. Jake opens the truck door, digging in the glove box for something.
“So, you wanna dance?”
I jerk back around, looking at her. What?
People move around the bonfire, the song drifting out of the big speakers propped up in truck beds around the lot. But the song is slow. They’re all close.
I shake my head. “No.”
But she just grabs my hand anyway and drags me over to the bonfire. I stumble to keep up, trying to pull out of her hand.
“Hey, stop,” I bark.
I don’t dance well.
Turning around, she takes my waist and pulls me in, and I shove her off, but she’s too quick. She grabs the knot my shirt is tied in and jerks me into her, my damn neck nearly getting whiplash.
I bare my teeth, feeling my stomach rub against hers where her white tank has ridden up.
“It’s okay.” She smirks down at me. “I know you’re straight.”
She moves, swaying her hips and grinding on me a little, and my heart is pounding out of my damn chest as my feet shift to keep myself from falling.
“Yeah, how do you know?”
“You’re saying there’s a chance you’re not?” she asks, teasing me.
I roll my eyes.
“You shouldn’t be,” she says. “I’m a lot safer than a guy. At least, I can’t get you pregnant.”
I can’t help it. A laugh escapes, and I relax a little.
But not too much.
“Why don’t you cut the act?” I tell her. “You’re doing this to get Kaleb’s attention.”
A little girl-on-girl action, which he’ll certainly notice, because she’s trying it with someone who lives in his house.
I take a glance around. He’s probably not even here anyway. I haven’t seen him since he parked his bike. Probably hitched a ride home with someone else.
She drops her hands to my waist and comes in, her nose nearly brushing mine.
I don’t know why, but I stand my ground, unflinching.
“It takes a lot more than this to get his attention,” she threatens in a low voice. “Are you available later?”
I look away, knowing exactly what she’s hinting at.
I shake my head clear. I’m not letting Kaleb pop my cherry in a threesome. I’m not letting Kaleb do anything ever again, in fact.
“You heard the fight in the cave,” she whispers in my ear. “You were eavesdropping.”
Was I?
“You followed us,” she taunts, “because you want him, too. You were jealous.”
I quirk a smile, swaying to the music as I slide my arms up and around her neck.
Enough.
I lean into her ear. “I didn’t even know you were back there,” I whisper. “I was hiding, because I was touching myself in the water.”