Bella and the One Who Got Away Page 2

  My soul isn’t all about motocross anymore. It wants more. I no longer feel happy in a life where I spend all day every day with my dirt bike. I can’t even believe I’m thinking this because for so long, all I cared about was motocross. It’s been the reason I wake up in the morning and the reason I go to bed exhausted from riding all day. Motocross is my life. But now it’s just not enough to make me happy.

  I still love the sport, but racing professionally has turned out to be a lot less fun than I ever imagined. Visiting new states and staying in luxury hotels and meeting the fans is all a surreal and exciting adventure. Sometimes the traveling and being stuck in airports for hours isn’t all that great, but in general it’s a dream come true—if only on the outside. In general, this is awesome.

  But times like now, when I’m sitting alone in the downtime between races, I wish I was at home with my family. I wish I was at the local diner with Bella. I wish we were watching movies or getting ice cream or taking my little brothers to the park. I miss every single thing about this past summer, but mostly I miss her.

  We broke up before this racing season started and we promised to stay friends. I guess we are friends, but of course it’s not the way I wish it could be. I text her every few days and she’ll text me back and we talk about the weather, or something funny we saw online. Sometimes I send her memes that relate to inside jokes we bonded over last summer. Sometimes she comments on my Instagram posts. But none of our interactions are like how they used to be. That special, sweet, flirty intimacy we once had is now gone. We’re an empty husk of friendship, when we used to be something so much more.

  I dread the day I learn that she’s moved on and started dating someone new. Sometimes I’m scared to check social media because I worry that she’ll post about her new boyfriend. It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s inevitable. A girl like Bella doesn’t stay single for long. She’s not only beautiful and sweet, she’s funny and kind and when you’re with her, the hours seem like minutes. A whole day will go by and it’ll be time to go back home and you’ll wish you could stay with her forever. It’s impossible not to fall for this girl.

  I guess I should be happy for the short, sweet time I had with her. Those few weeks where she felt like she was all mine. They’re over now, and our lives have taken different paths. I miss her like I’d miss my own heart if it were ripped from my chest. Everything about this hurts me to my core.

  I can’t count how many days I’ll lie in bed at night and wish that my phone would light up with a text from her telling me she misses me. But Bella has kept her distance from me. She treats me like a casual friend, and nothing more. It’s like all the feelings I know she had are gone, washed away with the change of seasons.

  And although I’m living the dream life right now, traveling and signing autographs and racing dirt bikes, it’s not nearly as much fun as I thought it would be. It’s not that the job came with false advertising – professional motocross is every bit as amazing as I knew it would be.

  I think the problem is that I left my heart back in Roca Springs, and because of that, nothing I do in any other city will ever feel quite as amazing as it should.

  3

  Bella

  I feel like I spent so much of my life waiting to graduate high school and become an adult, and now that it’s happened, it’s a little more than underwhelming. The only good thing about my college classes are that I only have to attend them two days a week. That sure beats waking up at six in the morning Monday through Friday to drag my half-asleep self to the high school. But my college classes are Capital B Boring. I’m taking college algebra, History 101, English 101, and a physical education class which is basically just walking around the track while the teacher talks on her phone from the sidelines.

  Higher education doesn’t feel that high. It feels boring. I guess that’s to be expected with my first semester of college courses. My brother Brent told me that classes get interesting once you’ve picked your major and you’re taking classes pertaining to that. But I don’t have a major. I don’t have a single clue what I want to do with my life.

  It’s starting to stress me out. Kylie is also taking basic classes at her university but she knows that she wants to be a teacher. Brent has one more year left and then he’ll graduate with some financial degree and go get a job as an analyst or banker or something. It sounds extremely boring to me but he’s excited about it. I have nothing.

  Nothing.

  I’m sitting in the back row of my English class trying to think of a career that would suit me. A quick Google search says I should follow my passion to the career that’s best for me. Well, my passion is motocross. I’m too old to try to be a professional racer, and let’s face it—women don’t get very far in professional motocross. I know that’s sexist and it’s total crap, but it is what it is.

  Even Liam Mosely himself told me that being a professional racer isn’t always a long term career. You could get injured or suddenly not be fast enough and lose your sponsors and thus ruin your career. There’s no guarantees in motocross.

  So my one true passion will not make a career.

  At the front of the small community college classroom, my teacher is talking about Aristotle and the other greats of historical philosophy. I wonder if she wanted to be a college professor when she was eighteen years old. Did she know her passion back then? Does she like her job now? She’s probably in her forties, with short graying hair and deep smile lines on her face. She seems happy. Or at least content.

  But I don’t want to be a teacher. I’d rather go the rest of my life without having to speak in front of crowds, thanks.

  I continue to take notes while my teacher gives her lecture, but my mind is elsewhere. I’m trying so hard to think of what I want to do with my life that I don’t notice the balled-up piece of paper smack into my arm at first. I look down at it. Did someone just throw a paper ball at me?

  I look up casually and scan the room. Then I see Jodi, my shy, book smart friend from high school who also has two other classes with me this semester. She’s sitting a few chairs over and she’s staring right at me, her brown eyes wide as if she’s trying to communicate with me through eye gestures alone. We normally sit next to each other but I was a few minutes late today and the seat next to her was already taken.

  I look down at the paper and unfold it. She’s written a note on it.

  Hot guy in the beanie won’t stop looking at you.

  I know exactly who she’s talking about, because he’s caught my eye a few times since the semester started last week. He looks about my age but he definitely didn’t go to my high school. He’s tall and lean with dark brown hair and a tattoo of a chess piece on his forearm. He wears a black beanie to class every day, and he is cute enough to catch the eye of every girl in this classroom.

  I glance to my right and see him looking at me. I quickly look back at my notes, wondering if that was for real or just a fluke. If he was looking at me long enough for Jodi to notice something, then maybe he is into me. I’m not even dressed that cute today, so that’s kind of cool. It’s nice to get noticed when I’m not trying.

  He’s pretty attractive, I’ll admit that much.

  But why does noticing his cuteness feel so awkward and… wrong? Like the idea of me crushing on a new guy would be betraying the memory of what I had with Liam.

  That is so stupid, Bella. I internally criticize myself for being so weird. Liam and I are over. I broke it off myself because I was strong and logical and smart enough to know that the thing I had with him would never last. We had a fling and we ended things. It’s over. I am a single woman. Totally free to date or crush on whoever I want.

  Yet it still feels weird.

  When class is over, Jodi rushes up to me, bringing the scent of her floral perfume with her. She hooks an arm around my elbow. “I think you have an admirer,” she says.

  “What was he doing?” I ask.

  “He just kept glancing over at you. Don’t worry,
he wasn’t being a crazy stalker or anything, he’s just obviously into you.”

  I can’t help but grin. “Really?”

  “Really,” she says, squeezing my elbow. You should talk to him. He’s in History class with us.”

  We have a twenty-minute break before our next class, which the hot guy is also in. Jodi and I normally sit near the left side of the classroom because it’s where the windows are, and I’m not sure where he sits, but I know it’s not next to us. Although he’s definitely attractive, I haven’t put any thought into him before today. My mind hasn’t been focused on trying to date someone new. All I’ve been consumed with lately is trying to figure out a career path and trying to get over Liam.

  Maybe I can fix one of those things by allowing myself to crush on this guy.

  “I need a soda,” Jodi says. “Caffeine is the only thing that will get me through taking endless boring notes in History.”

  I follow her to the student center where we both buy a bottled soda and then make the trek back toward our classroom in the Humanities building. Jodi has always been a kind and sweet friend, but we’re not exceptionally close. We sat with the same group during lunch back in high school, but she usually had a book she was reading and only rarely joined in the conversation. Now we hang out a little more because we’re taking the same classes, but she has no idea about my summer fling with Liam. It’s a little refreshing hanging out with someone who doesn’t know about it. I know she’s not judging me for how I can’t get over a summer fling, because she doesn’t know about the summer fling. She’s not like Kylie, who asks me once a week if I’m over him yet. Jodi is a fresh friend with no idea of my past disastrous dating history. It’s nice.

  It’s a little fun to talk to her about this new guy because of the clean slate I have with her.

  When we approach our next classroom, she gives me a wry grin. “Just follow my lead, okay?”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “Just follow me. And look super casual.” She enters the classroom and starts talking about a reality TV show that I’ve never seen. But she’s acting as if it’s a topic we’ve been talking about before we arrived, and I realize I’m in the middle of whatever shenanigans she’s setting up. I nod along and follow her as she turns left and walks toward the back of the classroom.

  She takes a seat in the very back row, and I sit next to her. She grins at me and then retrieves her history textbook from her bag. A few seconds later, the hot beanie guy walks in and turns toward our row. His eyes meet mine and he grins, looking a little surprised, but in a good way. As he approaches me, I look over at Jodi.

  She just whispers, “You’re welcome.”

  He sits next to me and opens his laptop. I am acutely aware of his presence next to mine, a hot guy just a few inches away. And now that I’m actually thinking about it, this guy is pretty cute. He’s cuter than cute. He’s a total hottie.

  More people filter into the classroom and I stare down at my notebook and pen, wondering if I should start bringing a laptop to class, too. About half of the students bring one. I prefer to handwrite my notes because I’m not a very fast typer.

  “Hello.”

  The voice comes from my right, from the guy I have decided is extremely hot, and who Jodi swears was looking at me in our last class.

  I glance over and smile. “Hi.”

  “I’m Joe.”

  “Bella.”

  His smile is adorable as well, all dimpled cheeks and two slightly crooked bottom teeth. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says.

  “You too.”

  The class begins and we don’t talk anymore. This history class is kind of a joke because all the teacher does is recite vocabulary words and their definitions and we have to write them down. On the first day of class, he said our exam will be matching the definitions to the words. Over one hundred and fifty words per exam, and if we copy his definitions exactly and memorize them, the test will be easy peasy. College is not that big of a deal when you’re a freshman, I guess.

  I take out a stack of index cards and write my definitions on them. I figure it’ll be easy to memorize like this instead of reading off a sheet of paper. Joe types up his definitions on his laptop but I catch him watching me write my index cards.

  “That’s a really good idea,” he says when class is over.

  I shrug. “What can I say? I like flashcards.”

  “See ya later,” Jodi calls out as she throws her backpack over her shoulder and waves at me. We always walk out to the parking lot together but she’s clearly leaving me alone to flirt. I wave at her and my pulse quickens. Now I’m alone with a hot guy who is being nice to me. What is this life? How is it possible that two hot guys have been interested in me this year?

  “Would you want to meet up at the student center and study together?” Joe asks. He stands and tucks his laptop under his arm.

  It’s a simple enough question but I think I can feel the meaning behind it. If we study together, we’ll become friends. He might ask me on a date. I would be moving on with my life. Dating around. Putting my past with Liam where it belongs – in the past. Not in the forefront of all of my thoughts.

  I swallow. Accepting his invite is accepting a whole lot more than just a study session.

  But if I don’t move on, I’m only hurting myself.

  “Sure,” I say as we walk out of the classroom together. “That would be fun.”

  4

  Liam

  We’re spending the entire week in New Mexico for a big Team Loco PR push. It’s not my ideal way to spend my time, that’s for sure. Avery gathers me and the rest of the guys in the hotel’s private conference room on Monday morning, just an hour after our flight landed. I’m tired and worn out from traveling, but I sip on the coffee I snagged from the hotel’s café and try to pay attention.

  She holds a tablet in her hand and smiles up at us, her gaze lingering on Clay’s. Those two are crazy in love with each other and sometimes I think it’s inspiring, but right now I think it’s gross. Just get a room already. No one needs to see them being all lovey-dovey, especially me, the jaded single guy.

  “You guys have two television interviews today, and then tomorrow is all photoshoots,” Avery says, reading off her tablet. “We’ll do group shots and individuals. Then Wednesday is a few smaller interviews for magazines and websites…”

  I glance over at Jett who pretends to gag himself. I snort.

  “And then Friday is the race and Saturday we’ll do a motocross recap interview with a few other teams, then you’ll be heading home on Sunday.” Avery looks up and presents us with her official Team Loco smile. “Any questions?”

  I’m tempted to raise my hand, but I hold off because sometimes I forget I’m actually a part of this team and not just some bystander. Instead of asking permission, I just talk. “Kind of,” I say, and the guys laugh. “How am I supposed to know when and where all of this stuff is?”

  “No worries,” Avery says. “I’ll come get you or send you a text. Most of the interviews take place here in the hotel. The journalists come to us. The photoshoots are off site but we’ll have a driver take you guys over there.”

  “It’s not too bad,” Aiden says. “We’ve had to do much worse in the name of PR.”

  “Nah, it’s fun for the most part,” Zach says. He pauses to snap a photo of himself with his phone, which he’s probably Snapchatting to his girlfriend. He looks back at me. “The worst part is answering the same questions over and over again.”

  “How did you feel when you took second place?” Jett says in a mocking tone.

  “How was the track?” Aiden chimes in.

  “You still dating your coworker?” Clay says, tossing a wink toward Avery.

  “It’s like all the reporters aren’t creative enough to think of unique questions,” Jett says. “It’s all the same crap over and over again, so we just put on a smile and answer it.”

  “Well I won’t have to worry about the girlfri
end stuff,” I say, peeling the label off my coffee cup. “I’m totally single.”

  “That might be worse,” Avery says. “After the guys all got girlfriends, it’s kind of big news that Team Loco has a single guy. You might want to make up a fake girlfriend just to keep the questions at bay.”

  I lift an eyebrow. “What kind of questions will I want to keep at bay?”

  The guys laugh. “Oh man, you have no idea,” Jett says. “But you will soon enough.”

  Jett was right. We aren’t more than ten seconds into our first group interview when the woman who is interviewing us zeroes in on me and says, “So, Liam, I hear you’re single?”

  She wiggles her eyebrows in this suggestive way that makes my stomach uneasy. I know we talked about this earlier but I wasn’t expecting the questions to be so blunt. I give a half-hearted shrug as if the topic isn’t a big deal. A few months ago, it wouldn’t have been. I was focused on motocross, not dating. But things are different now. Still, I try to channel that past version of me when I answer.

  “Yeah, you could say that. I haven’t put much thought into it.”

  She narrows her eyes and leans forward a bit. “Really? It doesn’t bother you that your teammates are all in relationships?”

  “Bother me?” I snort out a laugh. “I feel bad for them sometimes… must get exhausting trying to maintain a relationship with this busy career of ours.”

  I flash the camera a smile and mentally pat myself on the back for being such a great actor. Deep down, I’m missing Bella like crazy, but I’m not about to let this nosey woman know about that. My dating life is no one’s business.