Pitbabe S2, Chapter 28 pg 2

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 28 pg 2

   My patience had held firm until this moment. My head was filled with countless reckless words and actions aimed at that foreign kid. I’d been suppressing them, knowing that kicking up a fuss would only make things worse, and I didn’t want Babe to see me as some irrational, jealous idiot.

   But this was too much.

   Willy knew he was crossing a line, and he still did it.

   “What do you want to—”

   “Riley, I’ll take it.”

   I cut in before Babe could drag the conversation out any further. Babe whipped around, Willy raised an eyebrow at me, mildly surprised, while Ricky grinned broadly before turning to tell his crew behind him to clear the track completely. Tonight, they’d kick things off with the “chicos.” If I remember correctly, “chico” means young guys.

   “For real?” Babe asked.

   “Why… can’t I race?” Instead of answering, I threw the question back.

   “You can, but you were standing there all quiet, so I thought you weren’t interested.”

   “Why would you think I’m not interested?”

   Babe went silent. He looked at me for a moment before glancing at Willy, who was standing nearby with a big smirk. He didn’t seem panicked or worried, still relaxed as ever, but from where I was standing, I could tell some kind of hunger in him had been sparked. It was different from when he thought he’d race against Babe. Back then, he didn’t seem this eager to win.

   Looks like I wasn’t the only one seeing him as a rival.

   “You two back together or what?” Willy asked, a question even the most innocent kid in school would know better than to ask. But this tactless punk spat it out without a care.

   “Mind your own business,” Babe said, rolling his eyes. That was the first thought that popped into my head too. I’ll admit it felt satisfying to hear Babe say it, but deep down, I couldn’t help wondering if he jumped in first to stop me from snapping at Willy with words like that. Was he protecting me or that guy? It shouldn’t even be a question, but I couldn’t help it.

   “Race or no race, let’s keep it at that.”

   “Race, obviously. I already signed up before I even knew who else was in,” Willy said with a wide grin. His smile made the vein at my temple throb. I swear, in my whole life, this feeling has hit me only a few times, and one of those was because of Willy.

   “But I’m asking cause I’m worried if Phii Charlie gets too jealous, he might chase me down and crack my skull.”

   He knows I’m jealous.

   This was all intentional. Not some clueless blunder.

   “If you’re scared of getting chased down, why bother racing here? Sticking to the track would be safer,” I said flatly, while sensing Babe squirming uncomfortably.

   All I could do was silently apologize for having a bit less self-control than usual today. Let’s just say we’re switching roles for once, so Babe can see how hard it is to keep him from picking fights with others.

   “I’m not scared of anyone else. I’m scared because it’s you,” Willy said with a laugh. His mouth said “scared,” but his attitude was the complete opposite.

   “Besides Phii Babe, you’re the only one I think is tough to beat. Especially with that pull you’ve got—must be a real challenge, huh?”

   “Don’t mess with my personal business,” I said, knowing without looking that Babe’s eyes were probably wide open right now. And it’s no surprise, since I hardly ever let words like that slip out in front of him. “Just race and win. That’s enough.”

   “Talking like that means you two haven’t properly reconciled, huh?” No matter what I said, Willy didn’t seem fazed at all. On the contrary, he looked like he was enjoying the fact that he could get under my skin, which was exactly what made it so annoying. I hated how I could see through his game but still reacted impulsively like this. It made me feel stupid and childish. I hated stupid, childish people.

   “So, does that mean I can’t be jealous, big bro?”

   It’d been a while since I wanted to punch someone in the mouth.

   Willy was really good at this.

   “We’re on the same level… aren’t we?”

   My head was filled with hatred—hatred for Willy for meddling with Babe and deliberately provoking me, hatred for Ricky for planting crazy ideas about some rival in my head, and most of all, hatred for myself for not just getting back with Babe and ending this mess. That way, I wouldn’t have to stand here, burning with jealousy but powerless to do anything about it.

   “Beat me first, then you’ll see if we’re on the same level.”

   

   BABE:

   “Your face looks like an ass.”

   The only response I got from Charlie was an eye roll. He walked to the driver’s side door, ducked in to open the center console, and came back out with his favorite pair of gloves—the ones I bought him last year. (After his first pair got ruined in an accident, I got him a new pair, and then another when I noticed the second pair was starting to wear out.) He wore them for every race, on or off the track, whether he was in a good mood or sulking like now.

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