Page 35

Knox’s question is irritating, but he’s not wrong. I can keep it together. Theo has nowhere near my focus. He’s likely to fuck up his future over some girl, and while I’m fully intending to beat my brother for this seat, I’m not going to watch him throw away his life.

I flex and force my hand back to the bench. There’s one thing to play for, and it all starts in three weeks.

I wipe the sweat off my face and get back to work.

11

Shay

“I’m not quitting school.” I glance toward the passenger seat of my dad’s truck as we cruise through town Monday morning.

“Yes, you are,” Dad replies, irritated.

This morning marked the second checkup since his surgery, and since he still can’t drive, it meant he couldn’t avoid me any longer, either.

“It doesn’t cost you anything.” The academy might be harder to get into than college, but the actual tuition isn’t that expensive.

“It’s not about the money, Shay. If it was only that, we’d figure it out.”

How? I want to ask. Because keeping “the money” coming right now means me covering his shifts.

Fuck them. Jameson Ashford’s words from the car play in my mind, the soundtrack to every quiet moment I steal.

When he said it, it didn’t feel like rebellion. It felt like liberation.

Still, it’s one thing to defy haters at school, but I love my father. That’s why I’ve been trying to formulate the right words to talk to him about the academy since he found out.

I pick at the steering wheel with a fingernail. “You can be as mad as you want, but the reality is, I want to work on cars. Now and for the rest of my life. You taught me how to do that,” I reason.

Dad folds his arms, staring out the window.

“An automotive engineering degree from Ashford has to be at least as good as one from another school,” I go on when he doesn’t answer. “When else could I get this kind of opportunity?”

The realization struck me this weekend. Every day is a challenge, but for the first time in my life, I feel as if I’m the one choosing.

“If I wasn’t here, I’d be at college doing who knows what,” I press.

“I’d prefer who knows what as long as it’s far from this place.”

“Why? We’ve always watched racing together.” Some of my best memories of him were cheering for ARI from our living room.

“Watching is safe. Being involved isn’t.” Dad takes a longing look at the driver’s seat as if by getting behind the wheel, he could roll back time to when things were easier with us.

“Do you not remember what your surgeon said fifteen minutes ago?” I shut it down, hitching a thumb toward the rear windshield. “You can drive in another week. If the knee feels good.”

He huffs out a breath. “I could use some caffeine and fresh air. Let’s get a coffee and stop at the lake.”

I don’t argue. I shouldn’t miss my first class, but this is about making all the other classes after, so it feels more important.

At the diner, I run in and wave to Bree.

“Doctor’s appointment?” she asks as I dash behind the counter to pour the coffees.

“He can drive soon.”

“God help us.”

I slap a bill on the counter and head for the doors.