Last Ride by Laura Langston Page A

can’t save the house if Mom decides to sell it. But I want to hand Mom five grand by the end of December. And I want a nice chunk of change from Sunday’s race.
    â€œI’ll give you a grand,” Ray says.
    It’s tempting, but not enough. “Nope.” I start to walk.
    â€œTwo then,” Ray snarls.
    Two grand. Oh man…my heart’s thudding so hard that if I looked down, I’m pretty sure I’d see my chest moving. I keep walking.
    â€œGive it to me, Shields,” Ray yells. “Your bottom line.”
    I stop. “Five grand.”
    â€œYou are on drugs. I’m putting up three grand. Why should I walk away with a thousand bucks?”
    I turn around. “Think of it as an investment.”
    His face is stained an angry red. “An investment?”
    â€œIn our racing partnership.”
    Ray stares at me so long I’m afraid I’ve blown it. Finally he says, “Three and three. I break even. You’re ahead. You get your damned signed piece of paper. And you keep racing. That’s my final offer, Shields. Take it or leave it.”
    I pretend to consider. “Okay. But I don’t start paying you back the fourteen grand until February.”
    â€œFor Christ’s sake, when did you turn into such a hard-ass?”
    â€œWhen I started working for you.”
    A look of grudging respect flares in his eyes. “You got yourself a deal.”
    Hard-ass. Badass. He can call me what he wants. I’ll have three grand on Sunday. Getting another two grand by the end of December will be a cake walk.
    Friday’s rotation means Hannah and I don’t have any classes together. Good, because I don’t know what I’ll say to her about the racing thing. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll never find out.
    I can dream, right?
    I avoid her all morning. At lunch, I’m dumping my books in my locker and planning to escape to DQ for a burger when I hear her voice behind me.
    â€œThere you are.”
    I slam my locker shut, twirl my combination. “Hey.” She’s standing way too close, her thin fingers clutching her books. I stare at them instead of her face. Heat creeps into my cheeks when I think about how they touched me in the hospital. I glance up at her lips. The flush spreads to my ears.
    â€œYou okay?”
    â€œYeah, fine.” People stream down the hall behind us, laughing and talking, relieved that the weekend is almost here. I smell pepperoni. Someone has unwrapped a sandwich.
    â€œI’m glad I caught you.”
    She’s glad she caught me. Maybe she’ll ask me out again. Without Amy this time. Maybe we can go to a movie or for a walk and I can explain why I’m going to race again…
    â€œI dropped an invitation off at your place the other night. For Logan’s party.” She’s not looking at me. She’s looking over her shoulder and down the hall.
    â€œI got it. Thanks.”
    â€œOkay. Good.” Her head snaps back to mine. “That’s all I wanted to know. Will you at least think about it?”
    I don’t need to think about it. I’m not going to a party for a guy I killed. But guilt about going back to racing makes me say, “Sure.”
    Delight sweeps her face. “That’s great!” She lurches forward, and for a second I imagine she’s going to kiss me, but instead she grabs my arm and squeezes. “I hope you come.”
    Will you feel that way when you find out I’m racing again , I wonder.
    â€œOh, there’s Cole.” She flashes me a second smile. “I’ll talk to you later, ’kay?”
    As she flies down the hall toward him, the sweet smell of cherry Twizzlers hits my nose. A familiar prickle crawls up the back of my neck. I glimpse ink-black hair.
    My breath stops. Logan.
    Time…people…everything moves in slow motion.
    He’s there and then he’s gone. I gulp in fast, shallow breaths as I search the