Chapter Five - Crossing the Line

The address River sent took me farther out the city than I expected.

By the time I arrived, I could already see a handful of cars gathered in a large, dimly lit parking area. Music drifted through the night air, mixed with the occasional revving engine and bursts of laughter.

I slowed down, looking for cars I would recognize. A flash of purple caught my attention.

Mia’s RX-7 was parked near the edge of the lot, its underglow illuminating the pavement beneath it. River’s Honda was beside it, missing headlight and all.

I pulled into an open space and climbed out.

“Look who finally made it!” River called.

“Some of us had to work.” I closed the door to my car.

“Some of us have priorities.”

I glanced at the sun-damaged Civic. “Apparently, working headlights aren’t one of them.”

River put a hand over his chest dramatically. “She’s beautiful the way she is.”

“She’s missing an eye.”

“She’s got character!”

Mia let out a giggle as she walked over and gave me a hug, the streetlamps casting shadows on her blonde locks. “So…are we actually doing this?”

I looked around at the other cars. “Apparently.”

Tiffany wasn’t there. I hadn’t expected her to come, considering her reaction the night before. I slipped the walkie-talkie into my pocket and looked at River. “Okay. What’s the plan?”

River gave me a quick rundown of what to expect, introduced me to a couple of people, and made sure I understood that I could change my mind at any point.

The course had been marked out across the far end of the lot, away from the spectators and parked cars. Cones formed a winding route through the empty asphalt, with a sharp hairpin turn near the loading docks and a straight stretch at the end where the drivers could finally open up. This didn’t just feel like a street race. There were spotters at every corner, radios crackling between them, and enough open space that one mistake wouldn’t send anyone into traffic.

That didn’t make it feel safe.

It made the danger feel organized.

I tried to play it cool, but I couldn’t ignore the nerves creeping into my stomach.

This was different from showing up to a meet, taking pictures, and spending the night making fun of questionable builds.

I was actually putting myself out there.

River noticed my expression. “Hey. You good?”

I nodded. “Yeah…just trying to figure out what I got myself into.”

He laughed and patted me on the back. “That’s usually how it starts.”

Taking a glance at my car, watching the purple underglow from Mia’s Mazda reflecting off the white paint on my Challenger, I let out a deep sigh. “Well, I guess there’s no turning back now.”

River smiled and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “That’s the spirit.”

The next little while passed in a blur of introductions, conversations, and waiting. I kept my hands busy, checking my phone and occasionally looking over at the other cars.

One by one, the drivers lined up for their runs. Tires chirped against the pavement. Engines snarled, rose to a furious pitch, and then vanished down the course. Every time a car disappeared around the first set of cones, the crowd leaned forward as if they could somehow will it through the turns faster.

I heard the times being called out over the radios.

A silver coupe set the first benchmark.

Then a blacked out truck beat it by less than a second.

Mia’s RX-7 came out next, its purple body flashing beneath the floodlights as she threaded through the cones with barely an inch to spare. She crossed the finish line, then rolled back towards us with a glowing smile.

“Your turn soon!” She said excitedly.

“Great…love that for me.”

“You’re going to be fine.”

“That’s what people say right before something goes terribly wrong.”

She leaned against my door. “Then don’t give it the chance.”

Eventually, River called my name. My stomach tightened. The noise around me seemed to sharpen all at once – the bass vibrating through the pavement, the hiss of cooling engines, the scrape of shoes against asphalt. Someone nearby laughed, but it sounded distant, muffled beneath the pounding of my pulse.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut.

The sudden quiet inside the car felt almost unnatural. My hands settled on the steering wheel. The leather was warm under my palms, but my fingers still felt cold. For a second, I thought about what Tiffany had said.

Then my mind began flooding with thoughts of bills at home, doubles I’d been working, and how badly I wanted something to change. I wasn’t going to let my nerves make the decision for me.

I started the engine.

The vibration traveled up through the seat and into my chest. The familiar rumble steadied me, giving my panic something solid to hold on to. I checked my mirrors, took one slow breath, and eased toward the starting line.

A spotter stepped in front of me and raised one hand.

The crowd gathered behind the makeshift traffic cone barriers. River stood near the edge of the course, walkie-talkie pressed to his mouth. Mia gave me a thumbs-up from beside the timing station.

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure anyone could see it.

The starter lifted both arms.

My grip tightened.

For one suspended second, everything held still.

Then the arms dropped.

I hit the throttle.

The car surged forward, pressing me into the leather seats. The first cones rushed toward me, bright orange against the dark road. I turned sharply, tires squealing as the rear end shifted beneath me. My stomach lurched, but I kept my eyes on the next opening instead of the cone I’d nearly clipped.

Left.

Right.

Brake.

Turn.

The course became a series of split-second decisions. Every time I looked too far ahead, I lost the line. Every time I focused too closely on the next cone, I risked missing what came after it.

I forced myself to breathe.

The engine roared beneath me, climbing higher as I cleared the first section. The steering wheel tugged against my hands. My shoulders burned from how tightly I was holding on, but the fear that had been sitting in my stomach began to change shape.

It wasn’t gone. It had become focus.

I reached the hairpin turn too fast. The realization hit me a fraction of a second before I had to react.

I braked hard. The front end dipped, tires protesting against the pavement. For one terrifying moment, I thought I’d overshot the turn completely.

Then the car rotated.

The world swung sideways. The floodlights streaked across the windshield, and the crowd of people watching became a blur of faces and color. My heart slammed against my ribs as I caught the slide and straightened out.

A shout burst from somewhere beyond the barriers.

I didn’t have time to figure out whether it was encouragement or panic.

I was already accelerating again, the final stretch opened in front of me.

Putting my foot on the gas pedal until it hit the floor, the car leaped forward. The engine’s growl became a full-throttled scream, vibrating through the cabin. My hands steadied, the finish lights rushed closer.

For the first time all night, I wasn’t thinking about the money. I was thinking about Tiffany’s warning or the bills waiting at home or whether I had any business being there.

My only focus was the line ahead of me.

Only after I crossed the finish did I lift off the throttle. The car slowed, but my body didn’t seem to get the message. My heart kept racing. My hands were still locked around the wheel, and my breath came in short, uneven bursts.

I had no idea if I did good.

I rolled to a stop near the end of the lot – my adrenaline finally wearing off. The walkie-talkie crackled. “Sky, you…”

Static swallowed the rest of the sentence. I looked down at the radio.

Another burst of static followed, then River’s voice came through, loud and disbelieving. “Sky! SKY, YOU’RE FIRST!”

I blinked and snatched the walkie from the cup holder.

“What?”

“You finished first!”

For a second, I couldn’t make sense of it.

“Come back here you idiot!”

I sat there for a moment, the device shaking in my hands. Cheers, whistles, and shouted congratulations pressed in every direction as I drove back towards my friends.

River practically yanked me from my car once the seatbelt was off, bear-hugging me tightly. “You fucking won, dude!”

I…won?

The thought didn’t feel real. I had expected to finish, maybe hoped not to embarrass myself. Winning hadn’t even made it onto the list of possibilities.

The night hit me all at once – the cool air against my overheated skin, the sharp smell of hot rubber, the metallic scent of brakes, and the lingering vibration of the engine beneath my feet.

In my ear, I hear River say, “I knew you could do it.”

I shook my head, still trying to process it.

He released me from the hug but still held onto my shoulders. “How does it feel?”

“Terrifying,” was all I could blurt out.

“Good. Hold onto that feeling. It’s the fear that keeps you alive.” River laughed and slapped the roof of my car. “Welcome to the other side of the scene, Sky.”

Mia rushed in to hug me next. “The way you saved yourself after spinning out was incredible!”

I laughed in her shoulder. For the rest of the night, I was riding a high I couldn’t quite explain. Between the congratulations, the excitement, and the money I’d earned, it almost felt unreal.

Eventually, people started to peel out.

I check my phone.

And froze.

Adrian: Did you make it home?

I stared at the message.

Then at the time.

Shit.

I hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten. I said my goodbyes to Mia and River, trying to take mental note to respond to Adrian when I got home. But by the time I made contact with my bed – I knocked out.

And I had no idea how a missed text was going to cause quite so much trouble.

My alarm went off the following morning. I opened one eye, reaching blindly for my phone and immediately regretted every decision I’d made the night before.

The time on the screen made my stomach drop.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

I threw the covers off and practically launched myself out of bed. Somehow, between getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and grabbing something to eat, I managed to make it out the door with just enough time to clock in for my closing shift.

I was exhausted. My body was sore, my head was pounding, and I was fairly certain I could’ve slept through an earthquake. But I had an energy drink. And extra money in my pocket.

Small victories.

By the time I walked into Josie’s, the kitchen was already moving.

I clocked in, tied my apron, and headed toward my usual station.

“Hey.”

I glanced up. Adrian was standing near the prep counter.

“Hey?”

That was it. No ‘hot stuff.’ No teasing. No stupid grin.

Okay…weird. I tried not to think too much of it.

The first few hours passed without much interaction. Whenever we needed something from each other, the conversation was brief and strictly work-related.

“Can you grab that?”

“Behind you.”

“Thanks.”

“Yep.”

I caught him looking at me a couple times throughout the shift, but every time our eyes met he would quickly look away.

The third time, his gaze lingered just long enough for me to notice. His eyes dropped briefly to my hands, then lifted again, as if he’d been caught thinking about something he had no business thinking about. I looked away first.

Eventually, I got tired of trying to figure it out.

Maybe he was having a bad day.

Maybe he was just tired.

Either way, I had enough to worry about without adding his mood to the list.

The dinner rush came and went, and the kitchen gradually settling into its closing routine. By then, most of the staff had clocked out. It was just Adrian and myself finishing the last of the cleaning and putting everything away.

I was carrying a container toward the walk-in when he stepped aside to let me through.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

He nodded. His shoulder brushed mine as I passed. It was barely anything, but the contact seemed to catch between us. I felt his attention follow me into the walk-in before the door swung shut.

I stopped. “Okay, seriously. What’s your problem?”

He looked over. “What?”

“You’ve barely spoken to me today.”

“I’m working, Sky.”

“So am I. Doesn’t mean I have to act like you don’t exist.”

He looked at me for a moment before turning back to the counter. “I’m fine.”

I stared at him. “You’re about as convincing as a health inspector eating off the floor.”

Normally, that would’ve gotten a laugh. This time – nothing.

His mouth twitched, like he wanted to smile but thought better of it.

I shook my head and carried the container into the walk-in.

Fine, if he wants to be weird he can be weird by himself.

The pizzeria was nearly silent by the time we finished the last of the closing duties. I was inside the walk-in, organizing the remaining containers on the shelves, when Adrian stepped through the door behind me. The cold air pressed between us. He placed a container on the shelf and stood there for a moment, close enough that I could feel the warmth of him at my back. I kept working.

“Sky.”

“What?”

“Can we talk?”

I turned toward him, folding my arms. “Well, that’s a start.”

He ran a hand over his face. “I…texted you last night.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t answer.”

I blinked. “Adrian, I was out. I told you I had…plans.”

“I know…”

“Then what’s the problem?”

His jaw tightened. He looked toward the floor, then back at me, as if he were trying to decide how much of the truth he could say without making it sound like an accusation.

“I didn’t know if you made it home.”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. “What?”

“You told me you were going racing. You said you’d be careful. Then I didn’t hear anything from you.” His fingers curled once at his sides before he forced them loose. “I kept checking my phone. Every time it lit up, I thought it was you.”

My expression softened. “Adrian…”

“I know I don’t have any right to tell you what to do. I know we’re not…” He stopped, searching for the words. He let out a frustrated breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “But I was worried, Skylar. I didn’t know if something happened. I didn’t know if you were hurt, or stranded, or arrested.”

“You could’ve called,” I pointed out.

“I almost did…”

The admission landed harder than I expected. He gave a humorless laugh and glanced away.

“Twice, actually… I had your number open, and both times I stopped because I didn’t want to be that guy.”

“What guy?”

“The guy who assumes you owe him an update every time you leave the house.” His eyes returned to mine. “I didn’t want to make this about me. I just…” He swallowed. “I needed to make sure you were okay.”

I leaned back against the shelving. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just got caught up with everything and was so tired when I got home, I passed out.”

“I figured.”

“Is this why you’ve been acting weird with me all day?”

He looked at me. “Because I was worried, and I didn’t know what to do with that.” His shoulders lowered slightly, the tension in them finally showing now that he wasn’t trying to hide it. “I kept telling myself you were probably fine,” he continued. “Then I’d remember you were probably with people who know what they were doing but it’s people I don’t know, and I’d check my phone again.”

“Adrian…”

“I’m not angry that you went.” His voice sharpened, then softened immediately. “I’m not asking you to stop, either. I just…wish I’d known when you got home.”

The silence that followed felt different from the usual quiet between us. I studied his face. “You’re acting like you actually care about me.”

His expression changed. “And so what if I do?”

My breath caught slightly as he stepped closer. The space between us narrowed until I could see the faint tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flexed once at his side before going still. His gaze moved over my face, stopping briefly at my mouth before returning to my eyes.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Sky. But don’t stand there and tell me I don’t care.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

I looked away, suddenly unsure of what to say. For once, there wasn’t a joke ready to fall out of my mouth.

He reached for my hand, his fingers brushing mine. The contact was light, almost hesitant. Still, neither of us moved away. His thumb rested near my knuckles, close enough to touch without quite doing it.

“Look at me, Sky.”

I did.

His expression had softened, but there was still something unsettled behind his eyes. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

I swallowed. “You could’ve just told me you were worried.”

“I know.”

“Instead, you spent the entire day acting like I kicked your dog.”

That finally got a laugh out of him.

His hand was still near mine. When I shifted, my fingers brushed his, and the small contact seemed to pull his attention downward. He looked at our hands, then back at me. Then he stepped closer, his hand finding my waist.

His palm settled against me carefully, as if he were giving me time to objects. I didn’t. The warmth of it seeped through my clothes, and suddenly the walk-in felt much smaller than it had a second ago.

“Can I ask you something?” I could feel his breath fanning over my face.

“Depends.”

“Do you have any idea…how distracting you are?”

I smiled despite myself. “That’s your question?”

“It’s the only one I’m willing to admit out loud.”

I chuckled quietly, but the sound faded when his eyes dropped to my lips.

He didn’t move right away.

That was the problem.

He stayed there, close enough for me to feel his breath, his hand steady at my waist while his gaze lingered between my eyes and mouth. The teasing had gone out of his expression. What remained was quiet, more uncertain – and somehow more dangerous.

My fingers tightened around the front of his shirt.

His eyes flicked down to the movement. Neither of us said anything.

I could feel the question in the space between us, waiting for one of us to answer it. He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to stop him.

I didn’t.

His hand tightened slightly at my waist, and he kissed me.

For half a second, I froze, caught off guard by the suddenness of it.

Then I kissed him back.

My hands found the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric as he drew me closer. The kiss started with all the frustration and worry he’d been holding back, then softened into something neither of us seemed particularly interested in stopping.

For a moment, either of us spoke.

I looked up at him, still trying to catch my breath. “So…”

He smiled faintly. “So?”

“Does this mean you’re done being a pain in my ass?”

He laughed, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face. His fingers lingered near my cheek for a beat before he let them fall. “Don’t push your luck, hot stuff.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

And just like that, whatever line we’d been dancing around had finally been crossed.