you even bother with me? I know you see other guys.”
Chelsea was silent for a moment, her finger drumming against her book. “Despite what you think, I do like you Jameson but you’re taken.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond as Mr. Simmons walked in to begin class.
The entire hour-long class I contemplated what she said.
Was I taken?
I knew damn well what she referring to. Maybe I was taken but that still didn’t change the fact that Sway was my best friend. She was not my girlfriend and I had no claim on her. Girlfriends complicate everything. You go from being friends and then once you slap the official title on it, things change. Emotions get involved, insecurities rule and feelings get hurt. I didn’t want that with Sway.
I wanted the bond. I wanted the strong emotional connection we had and I didn’t want it to end.
What if I hurt her? What if she didn’t feel the same way and hurt me? Most of all, what if we did get together, I’m sure we’d have sex and then what? Would I feel the same way or was all this emotion for her because I couldn’t have her in the ways I wanted? Infatuation maybe?
Once school ended, Sway caught a ride with Tommy and I, as usual, headed to the track to blow off some steam as usual.
Looking back on this time of my life, I hated being a teenager because in the face of everything you’re dealing with, you have emotions. The shitty thing about those emotions was not being able to decipher what in the hell they meant or why you felt that way in the first place.
4. Gauge – Jameson
Gauge – An instrument, usually mounted on the dashboard, used to monitor engine conditions such as fuel pressure, oil pressure and temperature, water pressure and temperature, and RPMs (revolutions per minute).
“Where are you going kid?”
“The track. I’m meeting Sway there. She’s coming with us to Cottage Grove.” I told my dad on the way out the door.
For my birthday last year, my parents bought me a car. I had to pay for half of it and whatever amount I was able to come up with; they matched. All that hard-earned money bought me a 1967 Ford Shelby Mustang GT 500.
Yeah, I was spoiled but I loved that car. A few weeks after I got the car, my dad went for a ride with me and squeezed himself into the non-existed back seat. He refused to sit in the front seat like a normal person would. Instead, he insisted I drive him around town like I was driving Miss Daisy.
Eventually, I traded the car for a truck, a 1996 Ford F-250 so I could haul my sprint car around. It seemed like a better option and I needed to be realistic. I also got four speeding tickets in two weeks so that may have been the deciding factor as well but I refuse to admit that’s why.
Over the last summer, it was rare for Sway and I to ever be apart.
Chelsea and I dated on and off but I couldn’t stand her longer than a few weeks before I was telling her to get lost. Then Sway would get to me again and I found myself looking to Chelsea as a distraction or whoever was available.
Sway never did anything to piss me off, quite the opposite. Everything she did turned me on.
I began dating girls in an attempt to hide the physical attraction I was feeling toward Sway and kept my distance from her and her body in fear that I’d slip and do something to ruin the intense bond we had. I could tell her anything, as could she. Having this intense bond meant I knew when something was up with her, like today.
Last night we were at the track for the Northern Sprint Tour and she had disappeared somewhere between the feature events.
I was racing but when I made it back to the pits that night, Sway wasn’t around. I tried calling her afterward to see where she went but she never answered.
“Where’d you go last night?” I asked once she got inside.
Sway threw her bag on the floor and looked over at me. Her red puffy eyes focused on mine. “I went home. I wasn’t feeling good.”
I scanned
Chelsea was silent for a moment, her finger drumming against her book. “Despite what you think, I do like you Jameson but you’re taken.”
I didn’t get a chance to respond as Mr. Simmons walked in to begin class.
The entire hour-long class I contemplated what she said.
Was I taken?
I knew damn well what she referring to. Maybe I was taken but that still didn’t change the fact that Sway was my best friend. She was not my girlfriend and I had no claim on her. Girlfriends complicate everything. You go from being friends and then once you slap the official title on it, things change. Emotions get involved, insecurities rule and feelings get hurt. I didn’t want that with Sway.
I wanted the bond. I wanted the strong emotional connection we had and I didn’t want it to end.
What if I hurt her? What if she didn’t feel the same way and hurt me? Most of all, what if we did get together, I’m sure we’d have sex and then what? Would I feel the same way or was all this emotion for her because I couldn’t have her in the ways I wanted? Infatuation maybe?
Once school ended, Sway caught a ride with Tommy and I, as usual, headed to the track to blow off some steam as usual.
Looking back on this time of my life, I hated being a teenager because in the face of everything you’re dealing with, you have emotions. The shitty thing about those emotions was not being able to decipher what in the hell they meant or why you felt that way in the first place.
4. Gauge – Jameson
Gauge – An instrument, usually mounted on the dashboard, used to monitor engine conditions such as fuel pressure, oil pressure and temperature, water pressure and temperature, and RPMs (revolutions per minute).
“Where are you going kid?”
“The track. I’m meeting Sway there. She’s coming with us to Cottage Grove.” I told my dad on the way out the door.
For my birthday last year, my parents bought me a car. I had to pay for half of it and whatever amount I was able to come up with; they matched. All that hard-earned money bought me a 1967 Ford Shelby Mustang GT 500.
Yeah, I was spoiled but I loved that car. A few weeks after I got the car, my dad went for a ride with me and squeezed himself into the non-existed back seat. He refused to sit in the front seat like a normal person would. Instead, he insisted I drive him around town like I was driving Miss Daisy.
Eventually, I traded the car for a truck, a 1996 Ford F-250 so I could haul my sprint car around. It seemed like a better option and I needed to be realistic. I also got four speeding tickets in two weeks so that may have been the deciding factor as well but I refuse to admit that’s why.
Over the last summer, it was rare for Sway and I to ever be apart.
Chelsea and I dated on and off but I couldn’t stand her longer than a few weeks before I was telling her to get lost. Then Sway would get to me again and I found myself looking to Chelsea as a distraction or whoever was available.
Sway never did anything to piss me off, quite the opposite. Everything she did turned me on.
I began dating girls in an attempt to hide the physical attraction I was feeling toward Sway and kept my distance from her and her body in fear that I’d slip and do something to ruin the intense bond we had. I could tell her anything, as could she. Having this intense bond meant I knew when something was up with her, like today.
Last night we were at the track for the Northern Sprint Tour and she had disappeared somewhere between the feature events.
I was racing but when I made it back to the pits that night, Sway wasn’t around. I tried calling her afterward to see where she went but she never answered.
“Where’d you go last night?” I asked once she got inside.
Sway threw her bag on the floor and looked over at me. Her red puffy eyes focused on mine. “I went home. I wasn’t feeling good.”
I scanned
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