24
Motors growl in the distance, and the air is thick with the smell of gasoline and burning rubber. I rise up onto my toes to
see the race cars approaching, winding around the last corner of the track.
They roar by, one by one, and I grin a little wider when John’s car goes by. He’s not actually driving it—his friend Tim does
most of the driving—but he’s up in the control tower with a radio, giving Tim updates on his lap times and waiting to leap
into action whenever there’s a pit stop or when the car breaks down (which it’s done, like, three times already).
“Are they winning yet?” Kiara asks. She’s lying on a blanket on the grass beside me, with her sunglasses on and her hands
thrown up over her face to block the sun.
“Nope,” I say, sitting back down beside her. “Still second.”
It’s the third race of the day, and I’m getting better at being able to tell what position John’s car is in. It sounds like
it would be obvious—if he’s the second car that whizzes by, they’re in second place, right?
Wrong.
All the cars are in different classes—John and Tim’s car is in GT3, which means... I don’t know, something about the speed—so
he’s not actually racing everyone that’s out on track. And after a few laps, the cars in the slower classes have been passed
so much that it’s hard to tell who’s doing well.
I take a slice of watermelon from the container Kiara brought and turn my face up into the sun. This whole day has been way more fun than I thought it would be. The racetrack has wide green fields and trees all around it, and there’s this one slope of grass that overlooks most of the track, so all the spectators (and by that I mean me, Kiara; her husband, Jake; and like twenty other people) sit on blankets or lawn chairs on the grass.
The atmosphere is kind of fun too. It’s a community of Johns, people who love talking about cars and looking at cars and thinking
about cars, but everyone’s really friendly and all the drivers visit each other’s trailers to chat between races. And whenever
something goes wrong with one of the cars (which happens, like, every ten minutes), people drop by to help out or loan out
a tool or replacement part.
When Kiara and Jake and I arrived, we sat in John’s trailer for a while, watching people come and go. And I swear I’m not
being biased, but it seems like whenever something goes wrong, people want John’s opinion. It’s kind of cool, seeing how knowledgeable
he is—even if I don’t understand half of what he’s saying.
It’s also kind of cool to see him and his friends racing. It’s just a small track, but they still drive crazy fast, and it’s
sort of thrilling when John or Tim pass another car (sorry, “overtake” another car—no one here calls it passing) or win a
race. Meanwhile, Kiara and I nibble on snacks she brought from home, and Jake tells us stories about vet school, and it’s
all just really lovely and fun.
Kiara and Jake make a really good couple. She’s super cool, and he’s sort of nerdy, so they kind of balance each other out. They bicker a lot—we got a bit lost on the drive down and I thought Kiara was going to murder him—but you can tell it’s just their way of communicating with each other.
“How long have you two been married?” I ask.
“Too long,” Kiara says.
“Seven years,” Jake answers.
“Wow.” I take a bite of watermelon. “When did you know Kiara was the one?” I ask Jake. I say it in a teasing way, like I’m
not seriously asking, but Kiara isn’t fooled.
“Ooh, thinking John might be the one, are we?” she teases.
“No,” I lie. “We’ve only been dating, like, a few weeks.”
She shrugs. “You don’t need much longer than that to figure out if someone’s right for you. It’s a total gut thing. If you
don’t feel it right away, you never will. Like with you. I knew right away that we could be friends. And with Jake, I knew
right away that he was a boring nerd who I should avoid at all costs.”
“Joke’s on you, you married me,” Jake says.
“Only for the money.”
“I haven’t made any money yet.”
“Yeah, but you will,” Kiara says. “The minute you graduate, I’m putting you to work.”
I fall silent for a moment, thinking. “So it’s really just a gut thing, you think?”
“Yep. Look, are you and John happy together? Don’t think about it, just answer yes or no.”
I bite my lip. “Yes.”
She shrugs. “So that’s that.”
My brow wrinkles. “It isn’t that simple, though. I think I could be happy with a lot of people, for a little while. I could
date you for a few weeks and be perfectly happy.”
She puts her hands to her heart. “Aw.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can be happy with someone forever . Tons of people get married, and they’re happy for years, but then it doesn’t last. Er—no offense,” I add hastily. “I just
don’t know how you can ever know for sure that you’ll be happy with someone forever.”
Kiara takes a bite of watermelon. She’s still lying down, so the juices run down her cheeks into her hair. She sits up and
wipes it off with the back of her hand. “Look, you want to know what I think the real secret is to being happy with someone
in the long term?”
“ The secret?” Jake says. “This ought to be good.”
I smother a smile. “Tell us.”
Kiara pushes her sunglasses up. “Your happiness cannot depend on them. So many people think it’s their partner’s job to make
them happy, and that’s just total bullshit. Jake makes me happy, but it’s not his job . It’s my job to make me happy. Just like it’s his job to make himself happy. Our individual happiest lives will either be
compatible or they won’t. Take John.” She gestures toward the racetrack, where John’s car is thundering around the last corner.
“His happiest life is living in Waldon and doing shit like this and working in the shop. Is your own happiest life compatible
with that, or not?”
I hesitate. That was part of why I didn’t want to have a crush on John in the first place, because I felt like he wasn’t the
type of guy who would fit into my dream life. But things are different now. Aren’t they? I know John so much better. And things
between us are really, really good.
Still, do I really think I can build a life in Waldon that will make me truly happy? Because if I can’t, then Kiara’s right—it doesn’t matter if John might be the one. I won’t be happy in my own right, and even if I can push it aside for a while, resentment will start to bleed in. I’ll start to blame him for my unhappiness, even though, like Kiara says, my happiness is not his job. It’s my job to build a life that makes me happy. So can I do that in Waldon, or not?
“I think so,” I say.
Kiara raises an eyebrow. “Better make sure,” she says. For the first time, I hear a hint of older-sister-protectiveness creeping
into her tone. “John may be a bit of an idiot, but he’s one of the good ones. And he really likes you.”
I watch the cars slow down and file into the pit lane. The race is over; I’m not sure if John’s car won. I stand up and walk
a few steps away from Kiara and Jake, watching John approach the car as Tim gets out and pulls his helmet off. They chat for
a few minutes, laughing about something. John spots me watching and gives me a thumbs-up, and I feel a strange twisting in
my gut.
I glance back at Kiara, and I think about all our coffee dates, and how I already feel like she’s one of the best friends
I’ve ever had. Then I think about Jim, who called me his guardian angel last week when I went with him to the cemetery to
visit his wife’s grave. I think about the guided tour I gave last week to a bunch of kids from Mr. Peterson’s school, and
how much fun they all had with the new exhibit, and how Trey and I are working on setting up summer classes for kids.
I do think I could make a life for myself here. I really do. But there’s a prickly thread of uneasiness underneath my contentment,
something I can’t quite pinpoint or name.
John walks toward me, looking happy and handsome. “Having fun?”
I draw up a smile. “Definitely.”
“Cooler than a barrel museum.”
I make an indignant noise. “As if.”
He leans down and casually brushes his lips over mine. I lean into the kiss, trying to wash away the strange, prickly feeling
inside me.
“I’ve got to check a few things and then I’m going to run to the food truck to grab us some tacos,” he says. “You want anything
else?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Thanks.”
But as I watch him walk away, his innocuous question swims around in my brain. I’ve got a great boyfriend who totally gets
me, a volunteer job I’ve fallen in love with, and a group of friends who feel a little more like family with every passing
day.
Do I want anything else?