16. Taylor

Taylor

" I 'm so fucking sorry, dude."

Christian is standing next to me as I sit in the back of the ambulance, getting checked out by the EMTs, but I don't see him.

I'm staring at Huck across the track, where he stands at the podium, lifting his trophy. The crowd erupts into cheers.

My chest is on fire, and vaguely, I wonder how many times you can break a rib before it just disintegrates, but I know that's not the source of the pain I'm feeling. Resentment burns in my gut, despair filling my lungs so deep it feels like I'm breathing flame.

"Taylor, I'm sorry," Christian repeats, his face in anguish, and I tell him it's okay. It wasn't his fault. There will be other races, we haven't lost our chance at the amateur championships, yadda, fucking yadda .

No, just the scholarship. The only shot I had at college because let's be real here. My parents make too much to qualify for grants but not enough to pay for me. Even if they did, I wouldn't ask them for shit. Haven't even seen my father since the night he nearly killed me. Or Maisie, for that matter.

Fuck, this hurts.

Huck stands next to the official, who holds up a giant check with the scholarship money written on it. Jealousy and rage make me clench my fists so hard that my palm bleeds. Everything I've been through over the last few years, all the shit with my dad I've gone through such lengths to hide, it was all for this moment. And it's gone. Stolen by golden boy Huckslee Davis, who always gets everything he fucking wants. He doesn't even need a damn scholarship! He has a full ride waiting for him, and Matty does too. Christian has grants because of his heritage, and Xed has already been taking college classes since junior year. Salem, too. They're graduating high school with fucking associates degrees.

And now I'll never escape this place.

"We need to get that rib looked at," the EMT states. "You need an x-ray."

"Nah, fuck that." Jumping down from the back of the ambulance with a wince, I make my way toward the remains of my bike. "I'm fine."

I'm not fucking fine. Not even close.

"You should really go to the hospital, Tay." Christian follows me, and a flash of green in the distance reveals Xed's mohawk working toward us from the crowd, Matty close behind.

"I'm done with hospitals. "

Done with doctors, done with drug court. Just fucking done.

I don't even care at this point if the crash re-ruptured my spleen, and I bleed out internally.

It already feels like I'm dying inside.

The four of us gather up the wreckage of mine and Christian's bikes and load them into his Bronco. Skin prickles on my neck, and I can feel Huck's gaze, but I don't seek it out. The thought of looking at him right now makes me violent. I need to leave before he tries to talk to me because I know he will. Despite all the times he's told me to leave him alone, he can't fucking stay away. Neither can I.

But I'm done with that.

"We dropping your bike off at your dad's shop?" Christian asks as he hops into the driver's seat, Xed and Matthew taking up the back, and my world just…

Stops. Slams to a halt so hard that I feel myself reeling from it.

"No. Take it to the dump," I spit through clenched teeth.

Because I'd rather spend the rest of my life never setting foot on a dirt bike track again than be in my father's presence.

Apparently, I'm done with motocross, too. And it feels like the line on a heart monitor just went flat.