The Lovely Reckless(46)

“And you believe her because…?”

After arguing with my parents, I’m not in the mood to fight with Lex. “I told you I’d take a cab.”

“Right. Then I’ll turn on the news tomorrow and find out that Hannibal Lecter is making a coat out of you.” Lex weaves around couples hooking up against car bumpers and people checking out the gleaming engines under popped hoods. “I just don’t get it.”

“I’ll explain later. I promise.”

And then you’ll freak out.

“I don’t put as much stock in promises these days.” Under normal circumstances, Lex wouldn’t let me get away with a cop-out answer like that, but she’s too busy worrying to notice.

I spot Cruz standing with Ava next to the GT-R. “Come on.”

Even in my tightest pair of black jeans and a T-shirt that is clingier than the ones I normally wear, my Sambas and unfussy waves don’t exactly blend in.

Lex sees Cruz and rolls her eyes. “Your new best friend is over there. What’s with the sling? Did she get injured assaulting someone?”

“Her father jerked it out of the socket. Does that count?”

Lex bites her lip and trains her eyes on the ground. “Is she okay?”

“No. Cruz was supposed to race tonight. She needs the money to pay her family’s rent.”

“What’s she going to do?” Lex sounds genuinely concerned.

This is the part where I tell her the reason we’re here and she kills me. I keep walking. “If someone else races Cruz’s car and wins, she still gets the money.”

“She should get Marco to race for her,” Lex says. “Aren’t they super close? And he can drive his ass off.”

Here goes. “That’s the problem … he’s too good. And the guy Cruz is supposed to race has to agree on her proxy.”

Lex squishes her eyebrows together.

“The person racing for her.” I have roughly thirty seconds before Lex figures out why we’re really here. The universe decides to throw in some extra drama—Cruz sees me.

She walks toward us, slipping through the crowd like a pro. “You made it. And you brought your friend.”

“Yeah. You remember Lex, right?”

Cruz leads us to the curb across from the row of cars, where it’s less crowded. She tips her chin at Lex. “How’s it going? Did you come to cheer Frankie on?”

Shit.

“Cheer her on?” Understanding flashes in Lex’s eyes and she turns to me. “She doesn’t mean—”

“It’s no big deal. The whole thing takes less than a minute.” I try to sound reassuring.

“Are you completely insane?” Lex drags her hands through her hair. “Did you forget what happened when Abel screwed with the wrong people here?”

“It won’t go down like that tonight.” Cruz rushes to cover for me. “Frankie is just driving. If she loses, I’m the one who is on the hook for the money. Not her.”

Lex ignores her and stares at me. “I would tell you not to do this, but I’ll save us both some time and skip to the part where you won’t listen.”

“It’s going to be fine. I swear.”

Lex covers her ears. “Stop. Ever since Noah died, I’ve watched you take bigger risks, walking closer and closer to the edge. I won’t watch you jump. I’ll be in the car when you’re done.”

Cruz stares at Lex as she walks away. “Sorry. I figured she knew.”

“It’s not your fault.” I should’ve told Lex before we got here.

“I won’t give you any shit if you’re having second thoughts.”

“I’m not.”

Cruz lets out a sigh of relief. “Then I’ve got good news. Pryor agreed to race to the halfway mark, so you won’t have to turn around and come back to the starting line. And he’s gonna give you a car length.” I must look clueless, because she adds, “It means you get to start the race a car length ahead of him. Plus he’s racing an RX-7 he bought a week ago. He hasn’t lowered it yet, or put on the airdam or the rear wing. He hasn’t even replaced the shocks or tuned the engine yet! It will be slow as hell.”

“Why would he give me an advantage?”

“He isn’t thinking about it that way. You’re a rich girl from the Heights who has never raced before. He doesn’t think you have a chance.”

Rich girl from the Heights—will that label ever stop defining me? In Mom’s world, it’s an asset. Here, it’s a liability.

“Do you think I have a chance?”

“I’m letting you drive my car, aren’t I? Besides, winning is easier when you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Hearing the words out loud shocks me into silence. I’ve been telling myself that, but is that really who I am now?

A girl with nothing to lose?

I used to worry about every aspect of my life—the way I looked and the clothes I wore, my GPA, practicing the piano or not practicing the piano, every word that came out of my mouth and the way other people interpreted them. The list was endless. Everyone else’s opinion mattered more than mine.

I’m done carrying the weight of the old Frankie’s fears and other people’s expectations. The day Noah died, he had no idea that it would be his last.