Page 26 of Speeding Hearts

The door opened and Freddie reached in, releasing me from the buckles strapping me in.

“It’s okay!” he said.

I got out on wobbly legs. My arm didn’t even hurt, though I could feel blood running down my hand and off my fingertips. I walked around the car, inspecting it for damage, but it looked to be okay.

“Stella!” Freddie chased after me. He had his shirt off and wrapped around my arm before I could even register what to do. His scrawny body emphasized how much of a little kid he was, and I had to smile.

“Thanks,” I said.

His buddies were gathered all around us too. “That was a mean dip you took,” one of them said.

The pothole in question was still cupped around the front wheel of the car. I bent down and pushed at the tire. It was intact.

Relief flooded through me. Then I looked over at Freddie.

“You have to get to the hospital!” he said, his eyes still wide as dinner plates. “I’ll take you.”

“No!” I said, so loud, the murmur of the boys’ voices halted. I peeled back the shirt. There was a long gash along my forearm that looked like it would require stitches, but it wasn’t so deep that I was going to pass out or anything. “No, I’m fine. Freddie, I need you to park and lock up the car for me.”

“But—”

“Freddie, please.” I gave him an imploring look. “It’s an important job. This is Dean Hughes’ car.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “What about the hospital?”

“I’m fine to drive.”

“I can take her!” one of the boys shouted.

“I said I’m fine!” I said back, firmly. I leaned into the car to kill the engine and get the keys. There was a rogue flap of metal that was sticking out of the driver’s side door that my arm had caught at just the wrong angle. A fluke mistake that could have been a lot worse.

But if this got back to Colin, my chances of racing in the qualifier were shot. No matter how minor the incident, I already had to prove myself with him, and this would give him an easy out.

I stood back up and clapped the keys into Freddie’s palm, pulling him along with me toward my car. “Freddie, you know I want to race in the Bender qualifier. I’m asking you, as your friend, to please not tell anyone about this, okay?”

“You… We’re friends?” he said, sounding kind of awed.

“Yeah, we’re friends. You’re the nicest person at the track.”

Freddie beamed, then looked back down at my arm again. “You swear it isn’t bad?”

“I promise. I’m going to get this looked at now. I’ll get the keys back from you tomorrow, okay?”

Freddie nodded.

I pulled out my ponytail holder as I got into my car, using it to affix Freddie’s shirt to my arm so I could drive. It really wasn’t that bad, just long, and only just a little too deep to use a regular bandage on. I told myself that to stop the panic that was lurking under my calm veneer.

I could have gotten seriously injured. Stupid, Stella. So stupid.

A lump was forming in my throat that I tried my best to shove down. I wouldn’t cry. Stella Archer didn’tcry.

I peeled out of the lot.

Stella Archer took care of herself.

I’d just turned off in the direction of Cass Harbor, the bigger town nearby—I didn’t want to risk running into Dean or Colin in Oak Bend, no matter how small the chances—when I remembered my medical info was back at the motel.

The day, which had started out so promising, couldn’t get any worse.

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