Racing Savannah

Chapter 17. Dead Last

“Do you want me to kick his ass?”

I try to focus on my geometry homework through my anger.

“Because I can kick his ass,” Rory goes on.

Vanessa nods. “And if you won’t let Rory kick his ass, I’ll do it.”

“Guys, I can kick his ass myself,” I say, sniffling and wiping my nose.

During study hall, I’ve just finished telling my friends about what happened with Jack. I left out the part about how I went down on him. Can you say Big Mistake? Vanessa and Rory warned me about Jack. I feel ashamed that they know I’m nothing special to him.

He didn’t join me for lunch or study hall today, instead choosing to sit with Kelsey Painter and Colton Bradford. She’s chattering to Jack nonstop and Colton’s resting his head on the table. On the one hand, I’m glad Jack didn’t sit with me, because I don’t want to smell his cologne and risk burying my face in his neck. At the same time, the hurt and embarrassment are pumping through my veins.

“It’s fine,” I say quietly, chewing my eraser. “I mean, I could still be with him if I want.”

“But you’d have to keep him a secret,” Vanessa says. “That is such a dick move.”

“I’d never ask a girl to be secret friends with benefits or whatever,” Rory says, stretching an arm around Vanessa.

“You’d better not. You have a girlfriend now, remember?” she says.

They grin at each other lovingly and my insides curl up and die.

“My cousin, Alex, texted me yesterday.” Rory gives me a sly smile. “He asked about you. Who you are and stuff.”

“Really?” I ask. I haven’t even thought about Alex since Saturday night.

“He’s single now. We should all do something together soon,” Rory says, and Vanessa nods. I don’t need a guy to feel happy, but I like the idea of meeting more Tennessee people.

“Yeah, that might be good,” I say softly, sneaking a peek at Jack. Even though lunch ended an hour ago and we’re in the library, he’s digging around in the cooler Yvonne packed for him.

“Don’t look at him!” Vanessa blurts.

“I can’t help it,” I say. I hate that I feel weak.

“That’s it,” Vanessa says, throwing her pencil down. “Next weekend, you and I are going to the Infinity club in Nashville. The one that lets people under eighteen in.”

“Sounds fun,” Rory says.

“You’re not invited. It’s girls only,” Vanessa says.

“But I have some new dance moves to share.” Rory pouts.

“You can show me in private,” Vanessa says, and I nearly barf.

I stuff my worksheet into my math book and stand. Vanessa and Rory are already too busy kissing to notice me taking off, but Jack follows me with his eyes as I leave the library. He seems sad—he doesn’t even notice that Kelsey is stealing a Capri Sun from his cooler. When she sees him staring at me, she taps his hand.

He quickly shakes his head and turns his focus to her, listening to whatever she’s saying.

And that’s just fine.

When Rory drops me off at Cedar Hill after school, I go to Hillcrest to ditch my backpack before my training session with Gael.

Dad and Cindy look up when I enter the common room, but Dad doesn’t meet my eyes. “Savannah,” he starts. “I need to take Cindy to the doctor this afternoon. She’s tired and couldn’t hold any food down this weekend. I’m worried.”

“Didn’t you just see the doctor a couple of weeks ago?”

“I’m not taking chances,” Dad says, touching her stomach.

I suddenly feel choked up. Not only because I’m worried about the baby, but because yesterday’s argument with Dad is still hanging in the air. If Mom were here, would she know what to say to make me feel better?

“Savannah,” Cindy says, rubbing her eyes. I go kneel in front of her chair. “Can you help me again? I’m so sorry to ask but I haven’t finished something for Mrs. Goodwin and she’s having a charity meeting in the morning—”

“What is it?”

Cindy pauses for a sec. “I had started to wax the parlor floor but the smell was making me feel sick—”

“I’ll take care of it.” I charge to my room to change into grungy clothes.

“Savannah,” Dad calls, but I shut my bedroom door before I can hear what he wants. He doesn’t care what I want anyway. Why should I bother with him? Especially after I’ve been trying to help our family.

When I come back out into the common room, it’s empty. Dad and Cindy have left for the doctor without saying good-bye. Whatever.

Up at the manor house, Paula shows me where to find the wax for the floor and gives me a quick tutorial. I dip an old T-shirt in the wax and wring it out so the shirt won’t absorb too much wax and kneel, massaging the wax into the wood floor. Paula said that when the wax begins to look cloudy, I should use a clean towel to buff the wood. Damn, being a maid is harder than riding a horse. Waxing is killing both my arms.

I hear laughter and footsteps coming through the foyer toward the steps. I look up to find Kelsey and Jack standing in the doorway to the parlor.

Hell. Could my life become any more embarrassing? Before you know it, I’ll be cleaning toilets like Marcus Winchester’s servants.

Kelsey focuses on me for a sec, looking confused, then goes back to typing on her cell and begins to climb the stairs. “Come on, Jack.” Is she going to his room? Are they going to hook up?

He ignores her and steps into the room, his nose crinkling. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snap.

“Waxing the floor. Why isn’t Paula or Cindy doing it? Or even Yvonne?”

“Because it’s Cindy’s job and she had to go to the doctor. And we can’t afford to lose her hours. Somebody has to work.” I bend back over and wax harder.

“What a good idea,” a voice says. I glance up to find Gael standing there. Can this day get any goddamned worse? “I should have all my jockeys and exercise boys wax floors. It’s great for upper body strength. Savannah, can you wax my truck before our training session?”

I glare at both of them.

“Gael, can you give us a minute, please?” Jack says in a soft voice.

Gael raises his eyebrows and vamooses quicker than you can say on your mark.

Jack squats next to me, picks up the old T-shirt, and sniffs it, getting a grossed out look on his face. I snatch it out of his hand and rub the floor, trying to ignore the fresh smell of his laundered clothes and cologne.

“I miss you,” he murmurs.

I nod toward the staircase. “What about Kelsey?”

“Nothing’s going on with her. We’re just friends.”

“Does she know that?”

“I’ve told her I don’t want anything serious with her. But she’s my friend and she’s been ditched by friends before, and I won’t do that to her. But about you and me, can we talk privately? I want to find a way for you and me to be together…”

“Well, I don’t want to be waxing the damned floor, but we don’t always get what we wish for.”

Jack stands and takes a step back, glaring down at me. “Fine.” He marches out of the room, his boots crashing down on the floor.

I wipe the sweat off my forehead and get back to work.

Later that evening, someone raps on my door while I’m reading the Daily Racing Form. “Come in.”

Rory opens the door and sits down on my bed with me, pulling me into a hug. “I want to kill that bastard for making you feel so bad.”

I laugh softly, clutching his T-shirt.

“You didn’t sleep with him, did you?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I thought you like it when girls sleep with guys after two minutes?”

“Not you,” he says. “Not you. I think Jack’s a dumbass. He obviously wants you…”

I know.

“Come eat dinner with me,” he says. “We can go to Tennessee Ballers.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Will you run over my lines with me later? I’m auditioning for the school play.”

I love that he’s trying to distract me. “Are they doing the play you wrote? Call Me When Your Mom Is Back in Town?”

“No,” Rory says, sighing deeply. “Mrs. Towne said my play was too risqué for high school. We’re doing Peter Pan.”

“Oh, I hope you get the role of Peter! You’ll get to fly around the stage hanging from those cord thingies.”

He winks. “You just want to see me in green tights.”

“Ugh.” I laugh, and then Rory goes to find dinner, because when you’re a seventeen-year-old boy, food outweighs all else.

An hour later, Cindy shows up carrying a tray with a piece of chicken, some cooked carrots, and a small glass of milk. She brings it to my bed and sits down beside me, patting my leg. Just like Dad this afternoon, she can’t seem to meet my gaze, and her face is red.

“How’s the baby?” I ask.

“The doctor says she’s fine,” Cindy replies, sniffling. She pinches her nose. “I guess some women have more difficult pregnancies than others. He said I shouldn’t be doing so much physical labor.”

“Are you going to tell the Goodwins?”

“In the morning,” she replies, wringing her fingers. “I’m afraid they’ll let me go…I’m afraid I’ll have to move away from you and your dad.”

“Don’t think that.” I give her a hug. “It’ll be okay.”

That’s when Dad appears in the doorway.

“I don’t really want to talk to you right now,” I say, making him wince.

“I wanted to say thanks for helping with the floors today.”

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for my little sister.”

Dad comes in and shuts the door. There’s hardly room for him to stand in here.

“We need to talk about what happened yesterday,” Dad says. “You need to underst—”

“I’ve been working hard on the track!” I interrupt. “I’ve been giving Mr. Goodwin money I make so that Cindy can take time off. So you’ll have more money to spend on the baby. And then you yell at me and call me selfish and say I’m doing reckless things. And Jack has been so nice to me—I thought he wanted me—”

It all comes pouring out. Who is this weak girl speaking with my mouth?

My hands are shaking and my heart is thumping against my chest. A cool, slimy feeling flows through my body, as if somebody’s dipping me in a vat of ice water.

“I didn’t ask you to help with our bills,” Dad says quietly. He moves toward me, as if he’s going to hug me, but I hold up a hand.

“Don’t,” I cry, putting my face in my hands. “Just leave me alone.”

“Shortcake,” Dad says, but I shake my head.

“Please go away.”

He sniffles and rubs his eyes, and Cindy’s tearing up. I can’t bear to hear them say I told you so. I just can’t. Not after he yelled at me and wouldn’t listen yesterday. I can’t bear to tell them they were right about Jack.

I clutch my pillow and stare out the tiny rectangular window near the ceiling. Life is so damned unfair. When I looked out Jack’s large bay window, I could see a million stars. My window is so small, I can only see a handful. If I had been born to a richer family, I’d have so many more stars to wish upon.

“I’m sorry I got upset,” Dad says softly. His eyes glisten. “I’m so, so proud of you. For getting a jockey position at a top farm. For even thinking about college.”

I nod and let him hug me and rub my back. Cindy holds my hand and combs my hair with her fingers. “You’re the strongest girl I know,” she says quietly. “I wish I were more like you.”

I smile at her through my tears, and she takes my hand and places it on her stomach, so I can feel a kick. I suddenly can’t wait to meet my baby sister.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” Dad says. “It’s just, you’re growing up, and I can’t protect you from everything.”

I haven’t cried like this since the day I found Moonshadow’s body. I let them hug me, wishing I could forget how I hooked up with Jack and shared a part of myself with him. I gave him something I’ve never given anyone else.

The honest to God truth is that I’m mad at myself. I should’ve known better.

It’s Thursday evening, and Vanessa, Rory, and I are meeting his cousin Alex at the county fair. A double date. I’m pretty excited about it, but I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

I love fairs. Something about the idea of walking around holding hands with a guy under the night sky makes me feel like I’ll find my one true love here. The fair is full of hope.

We hop out of Rory’s truck into muddy divots and begin making our way up to the ticket booth covered with flashing lights. The night is crisp and cool and smells of popcorn and cow poop. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and anxiously scan the crowd for Alex.

“Calm down,” Rory says with a smirk.

“Quiet, you,” Vanessa says to Rory. She flashes me an excited glance.

A couple minutes later, I see Alex coming our way. I fight the urge to bounce on my tiptoes. He’s dressed very comfortably—jeans and flip-flops, and his T-shirt and over shirt are untucked and a bit wrinkled. I love how Jack always looks so put-together, but I like Alex’s look too. And of course I adore his floppy Whitfield hair.

He gives Rory a pat on the back then hugs Vanessa, and finally turns his focus to me.

“Hey,” he says.

I stick out my hand to shake his and he takes it, smiling into my eyes. His fingers are warm, and I’m excited about what might happen tonight. I hope whatever happens makes me forget how much I miss Jack. I force his face and smile out of my thoughts.

We each get $5 worth of tickets—enough to ride the Ferris wheel, slam each other in bumper cars, and get queasy on the Tilt-a-Whirl. The smell of funnel cakes and fries wafts under my nose, mesmerizing me just as much as the flashing lights and bells dinging when kids win prizes.

Our first stop is the Tilt-a-Whirl, where Vanessa and I scream our heads off and get sufficiently nauseous, while Rory and Alex have a grand ole time. Then Rory and Vanessa want to ride the Ferris wheel, so we head that way. Alex and I watch them climb into a bucket seat and grab the handlebar as it settles in their laps.

“Riding the Ferris wheel must be code for making out,” Alex says, as Vanessa and Rory start pawing at each other.

“Yup.”

“Want to?” he asks, pointing at the ride.

“Make out?” I tease.

He pauses for a sec, looking freaked out. “I meant ride the Ferris wheel.”

“I was joking.” My face feels a million degrees.

Alex walks up to the ticket taker guy and when I try to pass over tickets of my own, he waves my hand away. “I got it.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“But wait. Are you tall enough to ride the ride?” Alex asks, pointing to the ruler.

I give him a faux evil look and go grab a seat. We grasp the bar, looking straight ahead as the wheel moves backward in a lurch, lifting us up into the black sky. From way up here, you can see all of downtown. The Franklin Theater marquee burns red and gold. A blue light flashes on top of the water tower.

Alex looks at me sideways. “In full disclosure, I haven’t been on a first date in a while.”

“I’ll have mercy on you,” I say with a laugh. He doesn’t date often? That’s hard to believe. Wind rushes against my face as the Ferris wheel reaches for the stars again.

“So you’re a horse jockey?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. “That’s pretty sexy.”

I give him a friendly shove and launch into telling him about last week’s race and my hopes for this weekend at Keeneland and the upcoming Dixiana Derby. Alex watches my face and asks questions about jockeying and soon I’m quizzing him.

“I’m a biology major at Middle Tennessee State,” he says. It turns out he likes rock climbing and spends most weekends in the woods.

When we get off the Ferris wheel, Vanessa and Rory say they want to ride it again—which is code for wanting to make out some more, so Alex buys us a funnel cake and we walk around, chatting and licking powdered sugar off our fingers.

I see lots of people from school. Colton Bradford and Kelsey Painter are hanging out with the cheerleading squad and guys from the football team. They’re taking turns going down the Megaslide, squealing and banging against each other as they land on the cushioned bottom. Colton and Kelsey wave at me, and it doesn’t escape my notice when they check out Alex.

Colton mouths at me, “He’s hot!” and makes inappropriate gestures with his hips, and I grin back at him. What a perv. It surprises me that Jack isn’t with them tonight. And it surprises me even more that Kelsey waved at me.

“How about the Fun House?” Alex asks, and we spend a few minutes giggling into a mirror that makes us look about a thousand pounds apiece.

“You need to go on a diet,” I tease.

“On second thought, you’re not my type.” Alex chuckles as I shake my hips, making my thousand-pound self dance in the mirror.

His phone rings, he fishes it out of his pocket, and stares at the screen. “I need to take this. C’mon.”

We leave the Fun House, and while he chats on the phone, I go over to the dime toss game where I pay three tickets to throw five dimes into little glass bowls filled with water. I miss all five times.

That’s when I see them.

Jack and Shelby Goodwin. He has one hand protectively curled over her shoulder as they’re coming out of the art pavilion.

Of course Alex is still pacing and talking on the phone. Did he forget he was on a date with me? Embarrassing.

I pay another three tickets and focus on the game. I miss all five times again.

“Wow, you are awful at this.”

I turn to face Jack.

Shelby elbows her brother’s ribs. “With that mouth it’s no wonder you can’t keep a girlfriend. Hi, Savannah.”

“Hi,” I say, and pass three more tickets over to play again.

“You here alone?” Jack asks, glancing around.

“No. I’m on a date.” I point at Alex, who has a finger stuffed in his ear so he can better hear the person on the other end of the line. This had better be important because he’s been on the phone at least five minutes now.

“Oh,” Jack replies, furrowing his brow.

“Win me something,” Shelby demands to Jack, so he pays three tickets to play the dime game. He tosses four times before nailing a shot and winning Shelby a brown stuffed horse.

“I’ll play again,” Jack says, passing over tickets. As Shelby starts talking to a friend, gossiping about some boy in the eighth grade, Jack nails a shot on the second try, winning another stuffed animal.

“I’ll take that one,” he says. He points toward a small pink unicorn. The worker plucks it off the prize wall and Jack hands it to me. “For your room. It’ll match your Strawberry Shortcake bedspread.”

I scowl at him then take the stuffed animal, slipping it under my arm. “I’m naming him Seabiscuit.”

Jack gives me a withering look. “Really? Seabiscuit? You know the best horses at our farm come from Nasrullah and Secretariat.”

“Fine. I’ll name him War Horse.”

“Oh Lord.” Jack laughs and shakes his head.

“I’m predictable, eh?”

“Not in my mind, no,” he says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances over at Alex. “What’s your favorite part of the fair?”

“The mule races.”

“Oh yeah? Mine’s going to the dog show.”

I laugh, and we look into each other’s eyes. He’s quiet for a long, still moment. “I’m looking forward to Saturday. I think you and Star can win this one.”

We’re racing at Keeneland in Kentucky this weekend. Jack entered Star in a handicap with a $150,000 purse.

“I’m excited for Saturday too,” I say, not able to keep the excitement out of my voice. “I know we’ll win this one.”

Jack grins. Then shakes his head and focuses on the Ferris wheel. It loops around twice as we stand in silence. When I was a little girl and watched older girls walk around with their boyfriends at the fair, I couldn’t wait for the day I’d do it myself. And now here I am: practically alone since my date ditched me for a phone call. Alone, when I have the guy I truly want right next to me.

“Savannah,” Jack says, glancing at his sister, who’s still preoccupied with her friend. “I know I haven’t been good to you, but I want to find a way—”

That’s when Alex walks back over and drops a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about that. A friend was having trouble sorting something out.”

“I’m Jack.” He stretches a hand out to shake Alex’s. Alex introduces himself then asks if I want to ride the teacups. I nod.

“Bye, Jack,” I say, and a panicked look rushes onto his face as I turn away with Alex. But I leave him behind.

“Who was that guy?” Alex asks.

“My boss.”

“Huh. He’s kinda young.”

I glance back to see Jack putting an arm around his little sister’s shoulders and guiding her toward the Ferris wheel.

Alex and I board the teacups and he cozies up next to me—it’s getting cold out here. The rest of the night goes smoothly—no more Goodwins show up, and Alex doesn’t get any more phone calls, and when we’re leaving the fair, he gives me a quick peck on the cheek and asks if he can call me Saturday, so maybe we can grab a bite to eat or something that evening.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” I smile. The night wasn’t a complete win, but I had a nice time and I’d like to see him again. He’s nice and he kissed my cheek and he treated me well. What more can I ask for?

But later that night, against my better judgment, I curl up with the pink unicorn and stare out my little rectangular window at the stars, imagining Jack’s arms around me.

Thanks to a bad rain on Friday, the track at Keeneland is a big mud pit. The horses have to work double time just to make it around during practice. It’s like when humans try to run on the beach. During practice, I take Star out for a warm-up, and on the backstretch, Star pulls up hard and I fall. I shoulder roll into a big puddle. The mud cushions the fall, but I’m covered in muck.

Star doesn’t take off like he normally does when he bucks his riders. He pushes my head with his nose, as if he’s telling me to get up. He snorts and digs a hoof into the mud.

As I’m standing up, wiping the mud off my gloves on my pants, Jack, Gael, Dad, and Mr. Goodwin come slopping through the mud toward me. Gael grabs Star’s bridle.

“Are you okay?” Dad asks.

“Fine,” I say, keeping my voice steady. My butt doesn’t even hurt.

“Let’s get you off the track,” Gael says, leading us back to the stalls. Rory comes to give Star a bath and get him fed.

“Son,” Mr. Goodwin says to Jack, “I think you should either pull Star from the race or put Townsend on as jockey instead of Savannah. She just doesn’t have the experience racing in muddy conditions. I don’t want her to fall during the real thing.”

“But—” I start.

“Mr. Goodwin’s right,” Dad says, scanning my filthy clothes.

“You don’t know that,” I say. “So I fell one time—”

“You’ve fallen during practice too,” Mr. Goodwin says.

“She’s gotta get experience sometime,” Gael says, and I flash him a smile.

“I don’t want a Cedar Hill rider falling in a race,” Mr. Goodwin says. “It wouldn’t look good for me and my farm.”

“Are you really gonna let this happen?” I ask Jack.

He doesn’t meet my eyes.

“I thought you made the decisions,” I say. “You’re supposedly acting owner of the farm.”

“I am!”

“Just not when it’s important, I guess.”

Jack opens his mouth to speak then shuts it again. His forehead crinkles and he looks down before glancing up at his dad again.

“Use Townsend as your jockey,” Mr. Goodwin says. “This is important.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says quietly. “Dad’s right—I don’t want you to get hurt. I’m racing Townsend.” He jets out of the stall, leaving me leaning over onto my knees, gasping for breath.

They know Star doesn’t like boys. It pisses me off that they’re willing to risk Star being uncomfortable. Besides, I came in third last time! That’s a gazillion times better than Townsend ever managed on Star. I yank my gloves off, throw them on the floor, stomp out of the stall, and slam the door shut. Minerva sticks her head out of her stall, looking me in the eye, alarmed.

“Shit,” I say, charging out of the barn. Rory sees me and chases after me, trying to talk.

“What’s wrong?” Rory asks, grabbing my elbow.

“Just leave me alone!” I yell, storming toward the grandstands.

I find a place far away from the paddock to stand and watch Star’s race. Jack already told me he can’t date me because of who I am. And now he’s taking this away from me? Asshole.

Before the race starts, Jack comes to join me in the grandstands. He brings me a hot cocoa from the concession stand because it’s so chilly.

“I’m really sorry,” Jack says, passing me the Styrofoam cup. I don’t want to accept his peace offering, but only an idiot would turn down a free hot chocolate on a day like this. Stupid rainstorm.

“I’m sorry too,” I say. “Are you gonna take orders from your dad for the rest of your life? When are you gonna actually stand up and act like an owner? Or is that just a title for you?”

Jack furrows his eyebrows, looking hurt and pissed, and I know I’ve dealt a low blow, but I need to put shields up around myself.

“I didn’t do it only because Dad told me to,” Jack says. He musses his wet hair, and rain drips down his face.

“Then why did you do it?” I snap.

“Because I care about you!” he roars. People in the grandstands stare at us. “I care about you so much and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He drags a hand through his hair again. Everything goes so quiet I can hear my heart pounding inside my chest. “Drink your cocoa. It’s cold and I don’t want you to get sick.”

“You don’t need to take care of me, Jack.”

“I want to take ca—” He hesitates and breathes deeply.

I sip the cocoa, shaking my head at the racetrack. “I’m really pissed at you right now. First you got my hopes up about being a jockey and being able to do something different with my life. And then you got me excited about us. That maybe we could be something special, because I really feel something when I’m with you. And I mean really feel…” I grind my teeth together.

Jack is staring at his boots now. “I told you I want you.”

“And I told you that I won’t settle for being your secret.”

“But you will settle for that guy you were with the other night. Rory Whitfield’s cousin.”

“That’s not settling! It was a real date!”

“Oh please. A real date with no chemistry. Of course you were settling.” He steps closer, getting in my face space. “Be with me. Please don’t date him.”

“Oh, so you’ll stoop to date me now that I could be interested in another guy? That sucks.”

“I care about you!”

“Then prove it.”

I face the racetrack, not meeting his gaze again. After several seconds of stewing in silence, Jack finally leaves me standing there alone. I take my hot cocoa and find a dry place to sit.

During the race, Townsend rides the rail and never gets Star out in front of the pack. The horse whips his head from side to side at one point, and I think Townsend will lose control, but he hangs on somehow.

They come in fourth place.