Bella and the One Who Got Away Page 6

  “Hey, Liam,” Bree says.

  “Hi, ladies. I need a shirt.”

  Keanna reaches behind her, tugging a Team Loco T-shirt off the couch. “Is this it?”

  “Yep.” I take it and pull it on. “Thanks.”

  “So this is your hometown, right?” Keanna says.

  My nerves twist inside my chest. “Yep.”

  “Are all your friends and family coming today?”

  I nod. “Hopefully your boyfriends won’t humiliate me in front of my mother.”

  The girls laugh. “Hey, the rookie always gets humiliated,” Keanna says. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow them.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say as I head back outside.

  Keanna follows me. “So, Liam,” she says in that tone she gets that tells me she’s about to talk about girls. “When do we get to meet Bella?”

  “I’m not sure she’s coming,” I admit.

  She follows me to the autograph table, where the other guys are all mulling around, getting ready for the fans to show up. “Why not?”

  I shrug. “I sent her tickets to the race tonight, but I haven’t heard from her.”

  “Did you call her?”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t want to annoy her.”

  Keanna gives me a look, that classic look she gives Jett all the time. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. You need to call her and let her know you want to see her.”

  “But she broke up with me,” I say. “I’m not going to be some nagging annoying guy who wants her back. That’s a surefire way to make her hate me.”

  “She doesn’t hate you,” Keanna says.

  “You don’t know that. You’ve never met her.”

  She opens her mouth to object, but then closes it. Ha. I won this round.

  “Fine, I’ll drop the subject,” she says. Jett walks over and wraps his arms around her waist.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  She tips her head back and kisses him and then looks at me. “Just talking.”

  I smile, hoping she knows I’m giving her a silent thanks for not bringing up Bella in front of the guys. I don’t really want to talk about my girl problems to anyone, especially not my teammates who would probably only mock me relentlessly about it. When the fans are allowed in, my mom and Phil are some of the first people to show up. Matt and Dylan stare at me with wide, starstruck eyes. It’s almost like they didn’t believe I was actually one of the famous racers here until they could see it for themselves. I let my family past the plastic barrier and introduce them to the team. Jett’s parents show up too, and I try not to babble like an idiot in front of his dad, the famous Jace Adams. It’s really great getting to meet him and talk motocross for a bit, but it’s hard to stay focused on the conversation because I keep glancing out at the fans, hoping to see Bella among them. When it’s time to sign autographs – we do signings in thirty minute shifts and then take a thirty minute break – I take my seat at the end of the table and try not to look disappointed when each fan who comes up to me isn’t Bella.

  I see at least a dozen people I went to elementary school with, and a lot of friends I used to ride with at local Houston tracks back before I went pro. Seems like everyone who knows me, or used to know me, decided to show up and watch me in my professional glory.

  Everyone except Bella.

  I go through two autographing shifts, and she never comes through my line. There’s still an hour left until the pits close and we’ll get ready for the races tonight, but I’m starting to lose hope. If she was going to come at all, why would she wait so long to see me?

  I turn away from a group of fans and walk to the motorhome. Inside, Keanna is watching cartoons with Jett’s little sister.

  “Uh oh,” Keanna says when she sees me. “I take it she didn’t come?”

  “Am I that obvious?” I ask, slinking down on the couch next to Keanna.

  “You look heartbroken, that’s for sure.”

  Jett’s little sister is an adorable blonde toddler. I have no idea why his parents decided to have a kid after Jett was pretty much grown up, but I don’t ask. She hands me a stuffed turtle and I take it, smiling at her.

  “I really thought she’d show up,” I say, heaving a sigh.

  “There’s still time,” Keanna says. “Get out there.”

  “You’re right but…” I stare at the turtle in my hand and then look up at Keanna. “She’s not coming. She would have been here by now if she was.”

  “You don’t know that,” Keanna says. “Get out there and wait for her.”

  It’s hard to tell Keanna no. I hand the turtle back to Jett’s little sister and then step back outside. Marcus is here. “There you are,” he says when he sees me. “We have a quick pre-race interview.” He motions for me to follow him and the rest of my teammates. “Come on.”

  “Sorry guys,” Avery says to the crowd of fans who are waiting to meet us. “This will only take a few minutes. Please wait in line until they get back.”

  I tell myself not to look, not to get my hopes up. But I look anyway. Because maybe she’s there. Maybe she was running late and she’s finally here waiting in line to meet me. Maybe my happily ever after is just a few seconds away.

  I scan the crowd.

  I don’t see Bella at all.

  I guess happily ever afters only happen in the movies.

  11

  Bella

  Kylie’s eyes narrow, her attention like a hawk as she surveys our surroundings. We stand just a few feet away from the entrance to the pits, where we watch all the people who were smart enough to buy a pit pass before they sold out as they come and go.

  “So you either get in with your paper pass the first time, or you can get a wristband if you leave and want to come back,” Kylie says, watching people getting blue Teflon bands taped around their wrist as they leave.

  “We have neither of those things.” I say, glancing at my phone. There are still a couple hours until the races start. Instead of standing here like losers, I’d rather go find something to do. Houston has eclectic restaurants and museums and parks. Surely there’s something we can do to take my mind off this terrible day and the fact that I won’t get to see Liam any closer than from my seat in the stadium.

  The NRG Stadium is huge, since it’s normally where the professional football team plays, and our seats aren’t exactly in the front row. Since Kylie bought the tickets at the last minute, we’re in the nosebleeds. At best, I’ll see Liam looking like a tiny little action figure while he races tonight. Maybe they’ll show him on the big screen that hangs from the center of the stadium’s ceiling, but that’s about it. I won’t be seeing him in person. I won’t get to hug him or chat or do anything,

  “This is a waste of our time,” I say, kicking at a small piece of gravel at my feet.

  “No,” Kylie says, shaking her head. “I refuse to let this be a waste of time. We are on a mission for true love. It can’t fail.”

  She starts walking and I jog to catch up with her. She goes right up to the entrance of the pits where a large man in a STAFF polo shirt is standing guard. She taps him on the shoulder.

  “Excuse me, sir. We stupidly walked out of here a while ago and forgot to get one of those blue bands to come back in.” She flashes him a smile that always works on the guys back in Roca Springs, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to work on him.

  “No band, no reentry,” he says.

  She doesn’t let this deter her smile. “I totally understand. I didn’t pay all that money for a pit pass for people to come sneaking in, you know? Where’s the fairness in that?” She tucks her shiny black hair behind her ears and turns up her smile to full wattage. “Surely you remember me and my friend? We were like, the third people to walk in once the pits opened. You told me to have a great day?”

  Wow, she is really selling this. We’ve stood here long enough to see that this man tells everyone to have a great day after he lets them into the pits. Kylie is putting on th
e best act of her life. All those high school years in theater arts class has totally paid off.

  The guy’s lips press into a thin line. He looks at Kylie and then at me. “I’ve seen a few hundred people today,” he says. “You don’t look familiar.”

  “I’ll try not to let that hurt my feelings,” Kylie says with a grin. “Can we please go inside, sir? I promise we won’t forget to pick up a band on the way out.”

  The guy’s expression is rock hard. “No pass, no entry.”

  With a huff, Kylie turns away.

  “That was a nice try,” I tell her as I loop my arm around hers and rest my head on her shoulder. “Seriously, Kylie. It’s okay. I appreciate all that you’ve done so far. Let’s just leave.”

  “I’m not leaving,” she says as we walk the length of the fence that separates us from the people with pit passes. “I refuse. We’ll figure something out.”

  At the other side of the parking lot is a long stretch of tables that sell merchandise. You can buy T-shirts and posters and all kinds of stuff for all of your favorite riders. Kylie and I wander down the length of tables while she tries to come up with another plan to gain entry into the pits.

  I stop at the Team Loco table and look up at the T-shirts on display. There he is, printed on a shirt. Liam Mosely, number 136. I can’t even fathom how cool it would be to have myself on a shirt, much less how cool it would be to have people lay down twenty-five dollars to buy one. Liam must be so proud. I take a deep breath and watch the little kid in front of me beg his mom to buy him a Liam shirt. Once again, I’m thrown into thoughts about how Liam is living his dream and I’m just stuck here, a girl in community college with no plan for my future.

  “Holy crap.” Kylie grabs my hand.

  “What?”

  She does a little happy dance and then pulls me away from the merch tables. “Look at that,” she says, pointing to a banner that’s hanging from one of the food trucks. It’s a snow cone truck, and the banner advertises that if you show your pit pass, you get half off the price of a snow cone.

  “What about it?” I say.

  “Look closer,” she whispers into my ear, even though there’s tons of people around making noise so it’s not like anyone would overhear us anyway.

  I lift an eyebrow. “Do you want a snow cone?”

  “I want a pit pass,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “Cover me.”

  I don’t exactly know what she wants me to cover. My best friend sprints off and rushes toward the side of the snow cone truck. She glances around, but no one is watching her. Then I see it. Someone has taped all around the banner, securing it to the side of the truck.

  They used blue tape, like the kind of painter’s tape my mom used to protect the ceiling when we painted the walls a different color.

  Kylie scratches her neck and tries to act casual and then she reaches over and pulls off a strand of the tape. She rushes back up to me, stolen tape in her hand.

  “Tell me this isn’t the exact same blue color as those wrist bands everyone is wearing?”

  I bite the inside of my lip. “Yeah, okay. It does look like it.”

  She rips the tape in half and wraps it around her wrist. Then she does the same to mine. Up close, they look like strips of painter’s tape around our wrist. But a casual glance, while I’m swinging my arm… looks exactly like a pit pass bracelet.

  “Are we seriously going to do this?” I’m asking because my conscious is telling me that this is sort of wrong, but I desperately hope she says yes.

  “Of course we’re doing this,” Kylie says. “We are on a mission for true love.”

  We start walking back to the pit entrance and Kylie claps her hands together in front of her chest. “Looks like fate is on our side, because Mr. Doesn’t Fall For My Charm is gone.”

  Sure enough, the stern-faced guy who was checking passes earlier is no longer there. He’s been replaced by a much younger guy wearing the same STAFF polo shirt. He looks bored, too. All the more easier to sneak past him.

  “Okay,” Kylie says, standing tall. “Don’t look nervous. Just walk right on past like we belong here.”

  I nod, but I am so nervous I can barely speak. We get in line behind the few other people who are going into the pits. My heart pounds with each step we take. Most of the people in front of us also have wrist bands, and they just hold up their hand as they walk through. The guy manning the gate doesn’t seem to be paying much attention. I think we’ve got this.

  I think…

  Kylie goes first, flashing her wrist as if she’s extremely bored of the task and can’t be bothered to care about it. The guy doesn’t say anything. Now it’s my turn.

  I hold up my wrist quickly, flash him a smile, and walk right into the pits.

  Oh.

  My.

  Gosh.

  It worked.

  Kylie looks at me with wide, excited eyes. We quickly walk further into the pits, trying to put some distance between us and the guy, just in case he does a double take or something. Soon, we blend in with all of the other motocross fans.

  “I told you I would get you inside, and I did,” Kylie says, nudging me with her elbow. “I am the best friend of the century.”

  “I wouldn’t go patting yourself on the back just yet,” I say, fidgeting with my fake tape bracelet. “What if Liam doesn’t want to see me?”

  Kylie snorts. “Trust me, he does. Again, I’d happily accept a Sephora gift card if you want to thank me for playing cupid and getting you two back together.”

  I roll my eyes, and take deep breaths while we walk. I don’t know where the Team Loco section is, but we’ll find it soon enough. And I’ll come face to face with the guy I’ve been thinking of since the summer began. I am both excited and nervous and terrified and thrilled. I want to see him so badly, but what if this doesn’t go according to plan? Can my poor heart handle it if Liam rejects me? What if he thinks I’m some kind of stalker or something for showing up here?

  Maybe that letter he sent me that I never received was telling me that he was done with me forever and that we shouldn’t be friends. It only makes sense. Why else hasn’t he texted me lately? That letter might have been an official breakup.

  I think I’m going to be sick.

  As I fiddle with my tape bracelet, my finger slips underneath it, and the tape unsticks. It wasn’t very sticky to begin with since it was being used on the side of that truck earlier. The tape falls to the ground. I stop to pick it up.

  “Excuse me,” someone says. I look up and come face to face with a man in a security guard uniform. “That is not an official pit pass.”

  I freeze. The man looks at Kylie, seeing her wrist as well. “Give it here,” he says, holding out his hand.

  A lump rises in my throat. With a shaky hand, I drop the tape into his palm.

  “Sir, there’s an explanation,” Kylie starts, but he cuts her off with a glare.

  “Oh I know the explanation,” he snaps. “We don’t tolerate thieves here.” He snatches the tape off her wrist and then looks at it, scoffing. “Very clever. Now come with me. You are to leave the premises and not return.”

  “Sir, wait,” Kylie says. “Let me explain. Seriously, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

  He glares at my best friend. “You have two seconds to explain yourself.”

  I’m still standing here, totally frozen. Unable to speak or defend myself because I think deep down, I know there’s no defense. We lied to get in here. We’re on a mission that will only fail because Liam doesn’t love me. All the signs are pointing to fate not being on my side today.

  “We’re here with Team Loco,” Kylie says. My eyes widen but she stands tall and looks confident. “My friend here is dating one of the racers and we lost our bracelets and those jerks at the gate wouldn’t let us in, so we just made fake bracelets until we could find him and get him to give us another pass.”

  The security guard snorts. “Team Loco, eh?”

  “Yes, sir,” K
ylie says. “If you take us to Liam Mosely, he’ll be happy to vouch for us.”

  Oh crap.

  Oh crap, oh crap. I she seriously doing this? We have no idea if Liam will vouch for us. The security guard leads the way and my feet somehow walk behind him, even though all I want to do is run away. My heart is racing. The Team Loco tent comes into view. This is it. The moment of truth.

  I don’t see Liam or any of the guys under the Team Loco tent. There’s just a girl sitting in a chair with a little toddler in her lap.

  “Excuse me, ma’am,” the guard says.

  The girl stands up and I recognize her from social media. It’s Keanna Adams, Jett’s wife.

  My throat goes dry.

  “These two snuck into the pits with fake wrist bands and they said they belong to you.”

  “To Liam Mosely,” Kylie interjects. “My best friend here is his girlfriend.”

  “Is this true?” the guard asks Keanna.

  Keanna’s normally beautiful expression twists into a scowl. “I’ve never met these people in my life.”

  “So what?” Kylie says. “Go get Liam. He’ll tell you we’re not lying.”

  Keanna snorts. “Do you know how many girls come up here pretending to be his girlfriend? I’m not falling for it. Sir, please keep them away from here.”

  “That’s what I thought,” the guard says, with all the arrogance of someone who is right. He grabs my elbow and pulls me and Kylie away. “I am escorting you out for trespassing,” he says as we walk back toward the gate. People watch us as we walk by. I’ve never been more humiliated in my life. “If I see you again, you will be arrested for trespassing. Do you understand?”

  I nod, my whole body feeling numb. Kylie looks over at me and gives me an apologetic look.

  I turn away. I know she meant well, but this is totally her fault. I wouldn’t be feeling like absolute dog crap right now if she had just left me alone today.

  A mission of true love? Yeah, right.

  True love doesn’t exist.