One For The Road - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Since I pretty much lived out of a suitcase and had extremely close ties to northeast Ohio, when Josiah and Drake had to prepare for the Cleveland tournament, I had nothing to do besides checking my social media profiles.
Annie wasn't going to come with us, which was a little disappointing, but she said she had a few things to give me before we left. I was sure that one of them was the finished un-fireproof fire suit, but I had no idea what else she had in mind.
During any downtime I had while I was at the track, I liked sharing my life with people on Instagram and Twitter, which was one of the things Truscott hated most about me. How dare I connect with fans! Since I was learning the ropes of a completely new skill, I didn't have as much time, and perhaps I had lost a few followers along the way.
I opened up the Instagram app, and of course, I had about sixty million DMs and comments. I liked the attention, but there were some guys who sent pathetic dick pics. Sometimes I responded, but they never got an answer they wanted.
I pressed on the most recent message, and I barely made it through the first ten words before I figured out who it was.
Katie,
My name is Daniel Henderson, and I was the guy from Gilligan's on June 17th. We recently met, and you asked me to DM you in regard to a potential romantic encounter. Unfortunately, I am unable to follow through with such a request due to the fact that I am gay, but I do have an alternative that could possibly make up for any confusion.
With respect,
Daniel Henderson
I blinked a couple times. What the fuck did I just read? That was easily the most professional rejection I had ever experienced, even though he was definitely the one who started the potential romantic encounter.
How was I even supposed to respond to that? Sure, I'd love to be your friend, strange man. Would you be interested in exchanging friendship bracelets?
And if he was gay, he did a damn good job at convincing me otherwise.
Before I could figure out what to say, Annie came into the living room with a large cardboard box of items. On the front, she had written my name with a heart next to it, and she set it down on the ground.
"I packed you some stuff that you might need," she said.
"Annie, that's sweet, but you didn't—" I began, but she interrupted.
"Sometimes you don't take care of yourself, so let me handle this for you. Isn't that what art psychology buddies are for?" She smiled. "Anyway, I have your new special fire suit, and it'll look fantastic on you, I'm sure. Just remember that it's not really fireproof."
God, she was too good for this world.
"Thank you, Ann—"
She cut me off once again. "I also packed you a bucket for when you inevitably get carried away and need something to throw up in. And I threw in a few snacks, a first aid kit, extra money, a blanket, and a spare phone charger just in case."
I smiled. "We're not hiking in the Alaskan wilderness."
"Well, yeah, but you can never be too safe."
I laughed. She really had it all: she was charming, kind, pretty, and caring.
She left the box on the floor, and she gave me a small wave before she walked out of the room, and her pink curls bounced on her shoulders. She must have just fixed her dye job, because her hair was all the same vibrant rosy color, and I went back to my phone before I could let myself get any more worked up about her.
The steadfast clocks continued their ticking, and Josiah must have just synched them all up again. Not a single one was out of time.
I had no idea how he had the free time to fuss over those clocks when Annie couldn't even find a spare moment to work on her murals, but that wasn't any of my business. But that never stopped me from pointing anything out.
With Annie gone, I could finally formulate a reply to this Daniel gentleman. I wasn't sure what the hell he could possibly want from me, considering I was out of a job besides the Sacrilege shit show, but as long as it wouldn't conflict with that schedule, what harm could one more person in my life do? If he said something stupid, I was leaving town the next day anyway.
I typed whatever words came to mind: I'm a little confused, but I'm intrigued. What is this alternative?
As long as he responded in a timely fashion, we could have a decent discussion about whatever the hell he was plotting, but I wasn't one to wait around. He bought me drinks and I puked out pathetic anecdotes, so I was slightly more willing to wait than I usually would have been.
He replied almost right away: Excellent! I'm actually a sports journalist following the Toronto Blue Jays, and I'm quite familiar with your path to the NASCAR Cup Series. I would love to work with you to get you back where you belong: on the race track. If you have the time and are interested, I would like to meet at Gilligan's once again to discuss this opportunity.
The Toronto Blue Jays? They were about two hours away from London and a fucking baseball team.
Something wasn't right here, but he knew how to speak my language. I had goals, ambitions, and I couldn't accomplish them unless I found myself a new contract in NASCAR.
I still wanted to win a real race that counted. I wanted to win a championship. I wanted to shut everyone up about me.
There was a lot of shit that I didn't understand, but I knew that the world needed to know my name. Too many people had their moment in the spotlight then lost it, and I couldn't be one of them.
I typed out my reply. Well, Daniel, I'd love to chat. Is tonight okay? I'm leaving for a tournament tomorrow morning, and I'll be gone for at least a week.
If I had learned one thing from the whole combat robotics mix-up, it was that I could make anything work for me.
"Katie," Drake called from somewhere, and I jumped. He would just have to wait a fucking second.
Come on, Daniel Henderson. Make yourself useful and say yes.
"Katie!" Drake again.
I forced out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. "Please just let me have this, God. Please make this a real thing. You know I don't ask for much." I paused. "And while we're talking, can you please fix my Corvette for me?"
For once, Griffin would be the one who didn't have what I had. I needed that car to be functioning more than anything else in the entire universe.
Another message popped up: Sounds great! Is seven okay?
Seven was better than okay. Seven was amazing.
"Katie," Drake said as he stomped into the room.
I let out a squeak and stuffed my phone down my bra. There was plenty of room in there anyway.
"What the hell are you doing? I was calling you," Drake said.
"Well, I was answering my DMs on Insta. You would not believe how many dick pics I get. Men are so fucking ridiculous. They're not even good ones," I said.
"I'm sorry to hear that. But anyway, Josiah and I just finished up the rebuild again, and we wanted you to come test out the robot. Obviously, we need to get an early start tomorrow, so if you have any last-minute adjustments or ideas, we should probably take care of them now," Drake said.
I hesitated. I was half expecting him to yell at me for not being fully committed. "Yeah, sure."
I stood up, and before I could head to the garage, Drake held out his hand in front of me to block my path. I stopped, even though it would have taken less than a second to go around.
"Hold on. You're acting weird, and I think I know why," Drake said.
I tilted my chin up. If he could somehow guess that I was exploring my options (not cheating) once again, I would eat a bug.
He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "I know it's hard for you to go back there, but all I'm asking is that you do your best. We worked really hard on this, you poured in a ton of money, and I just want it all to pay off for us."
"I never let my emotions get the best of me, Drake. I'll be fine," I said.
He pulled his hand back in. "You never what? Isn't that the whole reason you're here? Because you couldn't hold in your anger?"
"I'm here because I want to be. Let me just say it again."
Maybe my piss-poor anger-management skills were one of the reasons I lost my job, but driving Sacrilege was a fun way to keep myself occupied before I finally made my way back to the steering wheel of my life.