Chapter 4

Jett

My body wakes up slowly. I yawn and stretch out and roll over, keeping my eyes closed until the sunlight from my window gets bright enough to make me open them. It takes me a second to remember it’s the week of Christmas so work is closed and school is out. Man, it’s rare that I get to sleep in late like this. It feels amazing, even though I do feel a little weird for some reason.

I sit up in bed and rub my eyes. I think about how cool it would have been to get sponsored by Team Loco last year, if only I’d done better in the qualifying races.

Ugh.

I could have gotten out of high school early and then every non-race day could have been sleep in late day. I’ll probably never stop kicking myself for ruining that sponsorship. Dad says there’s still time, I’m still young enough to work hard and find another one.

I really hope he’s right, because I don’t know what else I’d do with my life without motocross. I guess I’d try to settle down and find a girlfriend—if any girl would have me after the reputation I’ve earned over the years.

With a sigh, I try to capture the remaining bits of a dream I had just before I woke up. I can’t remember it really—but it felt like I was happy. I had a girlfriend, no—she was more than that. She had chestnut brown hair and the most gorgeous smile, and she was mad at me, I think.

I guess that makes sense…even in my dreams, I can’t be happy in a relationship. With a sigh, I shake away the feeling and reach for my phone. I have three new messages from three different girls. I don’t even bother reading them because those girls aren’t exactly hot or appealing.

Before I set my phone down, I stare at the background image. It’s just my dirt bike, the same as it always is—but something feels off. It feels—well, like I’m forgetting something. But I don’t know what. Maybe I shouldn’t have slept so damn late this morning. It’s screwing with my head.

My parents are still asleep as I make my way downstairs. I don’t bother disturbing them because I’m sure they’re also grateful that our family business is closed all week for the holidays.

It’s December 23^rd, or Christmas Eve eve as my mom always says. It’s also the day before my birthday. Due to some unfortunate timing on my parents’ part, I was born just a few hours before Christmas day. It kind of sucks because people think it’s some novelty to be born on a holiday, or they just get me one gift and say it’s for both events. Lame.

When I was a kid, my parents would throw me a party in the summer, that way I could enjoy my birthday like a normal kid. Now I don’t really care too much.

I just want to ride my dirt bike and be left alone.

So, that’s exactly what I do. The family business has three dirt bike tracks in the lot next to our house. We teach motocross lessons and have races on occasion. I head out to the garage and hop on my bike, then take it around the track for a few laps. When I’m out here, just me and my bike on the dirt, I’m perfect. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have a girlfriend, it doesn’t matter that I’m pretty sure I’m broken and will never be able to find the kind of love my parents have for each other. All that matters is the bike, and the dirt. And the air that’s all around me as I’m soaring over a jump.

After a few hours, the sun is really beating down, even for December. I head back to the garage and grab a water from the fridge. I hear her footsteps before I see her, and it takes everything I have not to groan.

Emma Clarke walks like she’s a princess. I know she does it on purpose. No one naturally takes these little prissy steps to announce their arrival. That is not just a girl thing. It’s an Emma thing.

Emma is hot, don’t get me wrong, but I’m so sick of her. She’s never sick of me, though. She’s always around, always dressed in something slutty and wearing a ton of makeup. She refuses to let me go, and sometimes I fear I’ll end up settling down with her just because there’s nothing else going for me in life. I didn’t get that sponsorship, after all.

“Hey there,” Emma says, sauntering into the garage. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she’s wearing skin tight jeans with a tank top that shows off how well her push up bra works. I don’t know who she thinks she’s fooling—after having seen those boobs in real life, they are not that big.

“What’s going on?” I say, ducking into the fridge to get another water.

“Just wanted to come hang out with my favorite motocross guy,” she says, her voice all flirty.

She walks up and slides her hand down my chest, even though I’m pretty sure my dirt bike jersey is covered in sweat. “I freaking love your abs,” she says, looking up at me with a desire in her eyes. “You want to go watch a movie in your room?”

That is Emma Clarke speak for want to go hook up in your room?

On any other day, I’d probably jump at the chance, because what else is there to do? But today I’m feeling weird. I’m still strung out over that weird dream, I guess. There’s this little flicker in my chest that burns with the pain of having lost something. I just don’t know what that something is.

“I don’t know, I’m kind of tired,” I say.

“It’s only two in the afternoon, you weirdo.” She laughs and takes my hand. “You’re not tired! Come on, let’s go get you in the shower.”

She drags me back to my house. Mom is making a sandwich in the kitchen. “Hi, Mrs. Adams!” Emma cheerfully says.

“Hello,” Mom says pointedly, looking at me. She’s not a fan of Emma.

Probably because Emma’s one of those girls out there for motocross fame. As soon as some other guy comes along who’s better than me, she’ll be gone. I give Mom this look like I’m helpless and let Emma lead me up to my room.

I mean really, it’s not like I have anything else to do. Too bad I can’t stop thinking of that girl from my dream. But dreams are just that—dreams, and this is reality.