Page 61 of Crash into me
A few taps sound on the door, and we look over. Foster’s wearing a pair of black jeans, they’re a little scuffed. He’s also wearing a black t-shirt with a band name I don’t know on the front, and he’s looking at me like he loves me to the depths of the earth.
“You’re going to be late to calculus,” he chimes.
I gather my papers, rushing to his side. “Bye, Grace! When should I come by?”
She looks at her calendar. “Saturday morning?”
“See you then!”
* * *
I love walkingthe campus with Foster. It’s so funny to me how people turn away when he walks down the hall. His nickname is Ghost, but his presence has the total opposite effect. Everyone sees him and thentheyGhost.
Maybe that was the intended purpose for his name? Or is it that he’s so fast racing that no one ever sees him? The question makes me wonder what I should be called.
“What’s my racing name?” I ask him as we walk the green, headed to the opposing building for my class. “I know Callum calls me Blue because of my eyes, but it’s not cool enough.”
He laughs. “Callum’s an idiot.”
“But he’s our idiot,” I reply.
We’ve grown so much from coming together to breaking each other’s hearts. But we’ve stuck by each other’s sides through it all—minus the break of craziness—I’d say we’re doing it the right way now.
“I don’t want anyone else to call you Freckles.” He thinks for a moment. “You like dancing, the ocean, and me.” He ponders through my interest, trying to find a hidden word.
I clasp my hands together, grinning. “I mean, weareracing together.”
“Are you really going to make us have some dumbass couples name?” he teases, bumping shoulders with me.
“Maybe?” I question. “I don’t know.”
With a tilted grin he says, “Well, you’ll always be behind me, so you could go with Shadow.”
I narrow my eyes. “We’ll see about that.” But I love the name.
He has a stride to him that mimics power and a don’t fuck with me attitude. I walk closer to him, so maybe some of his confidence will roll off onto me.
* * *
Last stopof the day is visiting Foster in his shop class.
I take a moment to simply watch him as I lean against the bay door. He’s wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt. It’s hard to not find him wearing black, but when he’s working on cars, he typically wears a white shirt so it’s easier to bleach it.
Grease stains his skin, mixing with his tattoos. I bite my lip. “You can go talk to him, you know.” A man beside me laughs, wiping his hands on a red rag. My cheeks flush as he yells out, “Foster! You’ve got an admirer.”
Foster’s head dips out from under the hood, and his chiseled face lights up when he sees me. He rushes over, a wrench still in his hand. “Shut up, Mr. Wes.” He’s the shop teacher.
“So, this is the one who gave you the free motor casing?” I refer to the lie Foster told me when he gave me my car.
Wes looks between us, not understanding the joke. “Wait, you’re the girl from the summer?” he asks. Wes seems pretty chill and reminds me of a surfer, with blonde hair that’s pulled into a low ponytail, sprinkles of salt and pepper throughout it.
“That’s me.”
He pats Foster on the back. “I’m proud, bud.” He grins. “Foster Jennings having a girl through summerandfall? It’s a first.” He turns to me. “And you’re a very patient young lady to deal with this idiot.”
Foster playfully punches Wes in the stomach, and the shop guys egg on the fake fight. Men. “Go, Mr. Cole!” Ryder urges, sending me a wave.
Foster throws his arm around me as we walk off to the side, not caring if he gets grease all over me. I don’t care either. “Your teacher seems pretty cool.”