Chapter Seven - The Space Between

The engine roared beneath us, loud enough to drown out almost everything else.

Almost.

“Eyes up, Sky.”

“I know.”

“Then stop looking at the other driver.”

“I’m not looking at him.”

“Your entire head just turned toward him.”

I shot River a look, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Do you want to fuckin’ drive then?”

“Absolutely not. I like being alive.”

We were lined up beneath streetlights once again, surrounded by cars, headlights and people with their phones raised behind us in the middle of the intersection. The makeshift closed-course we had started out with got raided by cops only a few weeks later –  so we had to make do with the streets as they are. The dangers and risks multiplied, but at this point the thrill was more addicting than the money that came with winning. Music thumped somewhere behind us, and my heartbeat pulsed in my throat.

River leaned back, far more relaxed than anyone had a right to be. “Don’t let the noise get in your head.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“It’s my job to be annoying and give advice.”

“I thought your job was breaking things in your own car.”

“That’s a separate department.”

Someone near the front raised an arm. My stomach tightened.

“You good?” River asked.

I nodded.

“Then quit thinking so much and just fucking drive.” He cranked the volume of the radio all the way up. The signal dropped.

Our cars launched forward, taking over the main road four cars wide. The crowd of spectators erupted and the world outside my windshield blurred into lights and movement. My hands tightened around the wheel as the noise swallowed every thought. For a moment, there was nothing else but the engine, the adrenaline, and the realization that I’d chosen this. I hadn’t waited for permission or someone to tell me I was ready. I’d taken the wheel and let the car carry me forward.

When it was over, I pulled away with my heart still hammering.

“Well?” River asked.

“I think I need a minute. I’m gonna barf.”

He burst out laughing, slapping his hand against the dash as he watched the other three cars come to a stop behind us. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

I shook my head, unable to stop smiling. “Don’t get cocky, I haven’t fully decided if I enjoy this just yet.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a yes.”

I leaned back, letting the adrenaline settle. My hands still buzzed around the steering wheel, my whole body charged.

Somewhere between the first race and now, this had started feeling familiar – the late nights, the nose, the cars, even the people. It was becoming another part of my life. And for once, it belonged entirely to me.

Once the races were done and I had a satisfied wallet, the sky was beginning to pale at the edges. I went home with the race still humming through me, replaying every turn and every second I’d managed not to look away. The realization hit before sleep overtook me – I didn’t have to work doubles anymore.

Adrian’s last shift came around faster than I expected. I’d known it was coming. We’d talked about his new job and schedule, and I’d congratulated him more times than I could count. Still, seeing him walk through the restaurant doors with his usual stupid grin made it feel real.

“Look who decided to show up,” I joked lightly as he passed behind the counter.

“Miss me?”

“Why would I?”

“That’s hurtful.”

“I’m sure you’ll recover.”

He leaned against the counter beside me, close enough for our shoulders to touch. Neither of us moved away. “So…this is it.”

“Looks like it.”

“Try not to cry when I’m gone.”

“Please, I’ll throw a party.”

“Didn’t know you cared so much, I’m touched.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

His smile stayed in place, but his eyes dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to mine. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I only noticed because I wanted proof that this mattered to him too.

The shift passed like any other. We joked with the other employees, complained about the rush, and found excuses to bother each other. He kept appearing beside me without reason, and I kept finding excuses not to step away.

It almost felt normal.

Almost.

At one point, I caught him looking at me from across the kitchen.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then stop staring.”

“I can’t help it.”

I rolled my eyes, at this point having given up trying to hide my smile from him. The smile came easily, the ache underneath it didn’t.

By closing, the restaurant was quiet. I was tying up a trash bag when Adrian came over. “Need help?”

“I’m capable of taking out a trash bag.”

“I know. Just being nice.”

“Must be your last-day generosity.”

He laughed and took the bag anyway. Our fingers brushed around the knot, and for a second neither of us let go.

Then he pulled it away.

We finished cleaning without much conversation. I noticed how we had fallen into a familiar rhythm and flow without realizing it. I kept expecting one of us to say something that would make the moment important. Neither of us did.

Outside the employee entrance to Josie’s, we stood facing each other.

“Guess this is goodbye,” he said.

“Don’t be dramatic. You’re changing jobs, not moving to another country.”

“Still. You’re going to miss me.”

“I’m going to miss having someone to make fun of.”

“Same thing.”

I laughed, though it came out softer than I meant to. He stepped closer, his hand settling on my waist. His thumb moved once against my side, holding me still.

“I’ll see you, okay?”

“Yeah… you better.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he leaned down and kissed me.

It wasn’t rushed or different from other times, but we both held on – a little longer, a little tighter – my fingers curling into his shirt before I made myself let go.

For one second, I pretended the goodbye didn’t matter. When he pulled away, his thumb brushed my side again. “Text me when you get home.”

“Seriously?”

“Just checking.”

“Go home, Adrian.”

He grinned, but his eyes stayed on me. “Goodnight, Sky.” He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. I watched him walk to his car.

For the first time in a while, I wasn’t following him home. The distance was only a few parking spaces, but it felt like the beginning of something I didn’t know how to name.

I texted him when I got home, just like he’d asked.

He replied almost an hour later.

Adrian: Made it.

That was all. I stared at the message, waiting for the usual follow-up, the joke, the excuse to keep talking. When none came, I told myself he was tired. It was his last shift. He had a new job starting soon. There were plenty of reasons for a short reply. I didn’t let myself call it a change… not yet.

A week and a half later, I sat on River’s garage floor, surrounded by parts, tools, and enough car-related paperwork to make my head hurt.

My Dodge sat in the driveway with its hood open while River stood over the engine bay, flashlight in hand.

“Here’s what we’re thinking,” he began.

“I’m scared already.”

“You should be. This is going to be expensive.”

“Fantastic. Love that for me.”

River pointed toward the engine. “We’re not rushing. We’ll sort the supporting parts first, make everything compatible, then start talking about the turbo.”

There was more to it than I’d realized – fuel delivery, cooling, tuning, compatibility. Every time I thought we were close, River found something else to research.

It would take time, but that was the point. I liked knowing what I was working toward, even when the progress was slow.

“Still committed?” River asked.

I looked at my car, which had gotten some more aesthetic upgrades along with performance. More aggressive side skirts, rear diffuser, front lip splitter, etc. I was happy with how it was coming along. “Absolutely.”

“Good. I’m not doing all this paperwork for you to chicken out.”

“Your handwriting is terrible anyway.”

“That’s because you’re illiterate.”

“I’m going to throw this wrench at you.”

“See? This is why I don’t let you near the expensive tools. This is why we can’t have nice things, Sky.”

I laughed and tossed the notes onto the workbench. My phone lit up beside me.

Adrian…

My face brightened before I could stop it, and his name pulled at something in my chest.

Adrian: Hey, how’s your week going?

Me: Pretty good. Working on Chally with River. What about you?

I set my phone down.

“Everything good?” River asked.

“Yeah… Just Adrian.”

He let out a soft grunt and nodded, returning to the engine bay.

I tried to focus on the parts list, rereading the same line until my phone buzzed.

Adrian: Busy. New job’s been a lot.

Me: I bet. How are you liking it so far?

Adrian: It’s alright.

I stared at the screen. The old Adrian would have found a way to turn a simple question into a three topic conversation. I typed, deleted, then tried again.

Me: Well, I hope it gets easier. You’ll get settled in soon.

Adrian: Thanks.

Me: Let me know when you’re free to hang out?

I locked my phone and placed it facedown on the workbench. The silence afterward felt louder than the notifications. River glanced over.

“You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah, yeah… He’s just been busy.”

River didn’t push or try to pry. “Hand me that socket set?”

I passed it over.

We returned to work. River talked through the next steps while I checked off items. We argued about parts, mocked each other’s music, and ordered food because neither of us had eaten.

It was easy. Comfortable. The kind of comfort that didn’t require me to watch my phone or wonder whether I’d said too much. For a few hours, I didn’t think about Adrian.

Later that night, I checked my phone before bed.

Nothing.

I opened our conversation and scrolled through the last few weeks. The jokes, random check-ins and little things that became part of my day. Except now there were longer gaps between them. Shorter replies. Less effort.

I could have sent another text, something casual that gave him an easy opening. Instead, I locked the phone.

The distance hadn’t started in the garage. It had started before that, in the pauses between messages and the way I’d begun making excuses for them. The garage had only given me enough quiet to notice.

It made sense.

At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

I put my phone on the nightstand and turned off the light. The room felt too quiet.

I wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it. We weren’t dating. We hadn’t promised each other anything. The whole point was that there were no expectations.

But when I closed my eyes, I could still feel his hand at my waist. I could still hear the way he’d say my name before walking away. I could still taste the way his lips did against mine.

I reached for my phone again before I could stop myself. The screen stayed dark. No message. No missed call. Nothing to prove that he was thinking about me too.

I pressed the phone against my chest and stared into the darkness – angry at him for leaving, angrier at myself for caring.

Because the worst part wasn’t that he was gone. It was that I wanted him back badly enough to be afraid of what I’d do if he came back.

And worse… I was afraid he wouldn’t.

I woke up the next morning to sunlight slipping through my blinds and the familiar sound of my alarm. I reached for my phone before I was even fully awake.

Nothing. Again.

I stared at the screen for a moment, then opened Adrian’s conversation.

The last message was still mine.

No good morning message. No response from the night prior.

I hesitated before typing.

Me: Good morning. Hope your day goes better today.

I sent it, set my phone down, and got ready for work. I told myself not to overthink it. He had a new job, new schedule, and probably a hundred other things occupying his attention. It wasn’t like he owed me a good morning text.

Still, I checked my phone again before leaving. Nothing.

My shift passed in a blur.

Orders came in, tickets piled up, and my coworkers moved around me in their usual haste. I went through the motions, keeping busy enough that I didn’t have to think about anything else.

Every time my phone buzzed, I looked.

Every time, it was someone else.

By the time I clocked out, I was more than ready to go home.

I checked my phone while walking to my car.

Still nothing from Adrian…

Didn’t even see the one I had sent that morning. I sat behind the wheel for a moment, staring at his name on the screen. Then another notification appeared.

River: You wanna make some money tonight?

I frowned, opening the message. I didn’t know what River had planned, but judging by the wording – I had a pretty good idea.

And honestly?

I could use the distraction.

Me: Depends…How much money are we talking? You better make it worth my time…