I sat on the hood of my car, earbud

I sat on the hood of my car, earbuds in and listening to Apocalyptica’s “I’m Not Jesus,” while I stared at the layout of the tracks on the iPad.
The dirt and sweat were gone. I’d showered when I got home from the carnival, scrubbed my skin till it was red and washed my hair twice, but I still couldn’t sit still. There was still dirt under my nails.
“What have you done?”
I tapped my foot, feeling the weight of my phone in my pocket.
Don’t call her. Don’t text her. She’s coming. She said she would.
And as soon as I saw her, got a chance to wrap my arms around her little frame, I’d forget the way her mother had looked at me. I’d forget the knife in my other pocket, the one that said I’d hurt anyone who made me feel dirty again.
She could touch me. She could touch any part of me, and that was it. Just her.
So I swallowed the jagged pill in my throat and gripped the iPad, forcing myself to focus. The Loop. The track. The money.
“Heads up!”
I jerked my head, seeing Fallon just in time to catch the water bottle she tossed. Holding it up and offering a tight smile, I watched her smile in return and walk back to Madoc, who leaned against his car, waiting for the races to start.
About a year ago, I had started working with Zack Hager, the Racemaster, who’d run races here on Friday and Saturday nights. Things were amateur back then. Mostly local high school kids racing their fancy toys that Mommy and Daddy had bought them around an unstable dirt track. My brother, Madoc, and Tate had all raced here during that time. They were illegal events on private property that everyone knew about but no one cared to stop.
And why would they? It was boring as hell.
For me, anyway. It was like watching NASCAR. Left turn, left turn, left turn. Guess what’s next. Yeah, left turn.
But cars interested me. Racing definitely interested me. So Zack and I had pooled our resources and stepped up the game. High school races Friday nights. College-and-beyond races Saturday nights. We struck a deal with Dirk Benson, the farmer on whose land the track sat, and got permission to pave it. Only instead of being a rounded square circling a pond, the track now had kind of a Hershey’s Kiss–looking top. We’d included the long driveway leading into the track as part of the race now. Drivers did their turn around the track and ended by racing to the end of the driveway, skidding to a turn, and racing back to the finish line.
We’d also constructed another dirt track through the forest between his farm and the highway and incorporated off-roading races as well. Sometimes they ran simultaneously, but we usually tried to keep them separate.
Best of all, the races were almost fully legal—except for the betting—and now they were wired in as well. GoPro cameras were installed on all the vehicles before the races so viewers could access footage on their phones and iPads with the Web Site I’d created. This feature was especially important for the off-road races where the viewers couldn’t venture.
Zack took care of scheduling drivers, making sure they signed our disclaimer forms, and the money. I took care of the tech stuff, planning new events, and alterations to the track.
After all, this would eventually get boring, too, so things had to keep changing.
And thankfully this kept me busy. During the school year, when I attended college, my class load, plus the track, was enough to keep me out of trouble. The fall and spring were my safest times. School was in session, and the weather was good for racing. The winter and summer were shaky. Either school was out or the track was dead.
My leg vibrated, and I inhaled a deep breath before looking down.
I blinked long and hard, my stomach turning as I dug out my phone.
Yeah.
My father called regularly, and I did nothing to stop him. Jared didn’t know, his mom, Katherine, didn’t know, and I wasn’t running from the bastard.
I answered the phone. “You’re boring me,” I said right away. “Come find me when you get out, and we’ll have a real conversation then.”
“That may be sooner than you think.”
A bad taste filled my mouth, but I tried to keep my face even as I swallowed.
“Good,” I replied. “I still play with knives.”
I heard his quiet laugh on the other end of the phone line.
I had no idea how he called me. I could find out if I wanted to, but for some reason, I didn’t want to keep him away. I’d never try to avoid him. I wanted him to avoid me.
“I only want what I’ve always wanted,” he stated. “A chance to make amends. I raised you, Jax. I’d like to show you that I’m better than I was.”
“No, you want me to take care of you,” I shot back. “You’re not using me to pay your way. Not anymore, you sick fuck.”
When I was little, my father used me—and Jared—to make money. Stealing, breaking and entering … A kid could get in where an adult couldn’t, and my father knew that.
“You forget, you little shit,” he growled, and my stomach rolled with the memories his insults invoked. “I know where your mess is buried.”
But his threat didn’t hit home, because I made damn sure I’d always have the upper hand.
“And you forget,” I countered, “that I’m not a kid anymore.” I jumped off the hood and strolled around to the door, tossing the iPad through the open window onto a seat. “There’s a guy in there with you. Christian Dooley. You got a beating from him, right?”
The phone was silent, so I continued. “Just happened to be right after the last time you threatened me?” I taunted, knowing my meaning was clear. “Threaten me again, and you won’t make it out of those doors alive.”
And I hung up, putting my palms down on the roof of my Mustang and lowering my head.
He wasn’t a man, I told myself. I was strong. I was worthy. And I was clean.
I could feel the sweat on my brow cooling me as the light wind hit it, but now my back was nearly drenched, and I wanted to rip off my shirt.
It was after eight, but the day’s sunlight still warmed the air. It had to be over ninety degrees.
“I know where your mess is buried.” My hands shook, and I clenched my fists.
The mess I’d made the day I’d had enough. Enough of the hands touching me. Enough of people looking at me and hurting me. Enough of being weak. My only regret was that I didn’t bury my father with them.
I had come a long way from that scared kid. I never wanted to be weak or surprised in any relationship or situation, and so I’d assumed absolute control over everything in my life.
But as much as I’d never wanted to feel like that unclean kid again, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dirt on my skin. I took two showers a day. I had someone clean my house twice a week. I always counteracted one shitty thing I said or did with two decent things, like volunteering or donating money, but I still felt unclean.
Nothing was clean enough.
“Well, you got me here.”
I raised my head at the sound of her voice and twisted around to see Juliet.
She stuck her hands in the pockets of her seriously faded, ripped, and tight jeans, and my chest filled with amusement at the sight of her loose black tank top that hung low in the back but showed off her belly button in the front. It had one of those “Keep Calm” logos, but instead it said “I will not keep calm. I will raise hell and break shit.”
My father was forgotten.
“I’m not a fan of this scene,” she admitted with a glint of humor in her eyes, “so if I’m still bored in an hour, Shane and Fallon promised me we could leave and go back to the carnival.”
“You think that’s more fun?” I challenged, sauntering over to her.
She nodded. “Oh, yes.”
I smiled, unable not to touch her anymore. Reaching out and taking her hand, I pulled her into me as I leaned back against the car.
“I’ve got a carnival ride for you.” I leaned into her lips. “Open all night,” I whispered, taking her lips in mine and wrapping my arms around her waist.
I heard her snort at my lame joke, but I was smiling, too.
She tasted like water. Every time I’d kissed her it had been like that. As if I was so thirsty I sucked in gulp after gulp, realizing how much my body needed this and how I felt soothed the more I drank.
I reached up and cupped her face with one hand, diving into her mouth and working my tongue around hers. Holding on to her, I molded her hips to mine and felt her moan against my lips. I slipped my hand inside her shirt under her arm, feeling the bare skin of her back. So smooth. Like cream.
“Jax,” she gasped, trying to pull away, “we’re in public.” I knew she didn’t want to stop, but she was embarrassed.
I normally would have been, too. I didn’t do PDAs, but with her? Hell yeah.
I looked down at her, not letting go. “I know. I just want to touch you all the time. Now that you’re letting me, it’s hard to stop.”
Her hair hung loose and smooth, straightened and parted in the middle. Her green eyes sparkled under dark eye shadow, and I was glad her lips were clear of lipstick. She had full light pink lips, and they were perfect the way they were.
She smirked happily. “Touch me all the time,” she repeated. “But we don’t get along.”
“We get along great.” I grinned. “As long as you don’t talk.” And I leaned down, snatching up her lips again.
She laughed and tried to push away from me, her back bending and her head falling back, but I held tight.
“Stop!” She giggled and squirmed as I kissed a trail up her neck. I loved seeing her giddy.
“Stop talking,” I scolded, still kissing her. “We get into trouble when you speak.” And I took her earlobe in my teeth, sucking hard, and she went limp.
“I feel like I’m falling,” she admitted through her breathlessness, standing up straight and taking my hands away. “But it feels good.”
I cocked my head and folded my arms over my chest. “Are we putting K.C. away so Juliet can come out to play?” I joked.
She mock-scowled at me. “Juliet’s not any more docile, if that’s what you’re hoping.”
I licked my lips.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Aku duduk di kap mobil saya, speaker mini di dan mendengarkan Apocalyptica's "Aku tidak Yesus," sementara aku menatap tata letak trek pada iPad.Kotoran dan keringat itu pergi. Saya telah mandi ketika aku pulang dari Karnaval, menggosok kulit saya sampai itu merah dan mencuci rambut saya dua kali, tapi aku masih tidak bisa duduk masih. Masih ada kotoran di bawah kuku saya."Apa yang telah Anda lakukan?"Aku mengetuk kaki saya, merasa berat telepon di saku.Jangan Panggil nya. Tidak teks padanya. Dia akan datang. Dia mengatakan dia akan.Dan segera setelah aku melihatnya, mendapat kesempatan untuk membungkus lengan saya di sekitar frame kecil nya, saya akan lupa jalan ibunya telah memandang saya. Aku akan melupakan pisau di saku saya yang lain, salah satu yang mengatakan aku akan melukai siapa pun yang membuat saya merasa kotor lagi.Dia bisa menyentuh saya. Dia bisa menyentuh setiap bagian dari saya, dan itu saja. Hanya dia.Saya menelan pil bergerigi di tenggorokan dan mencengkeram iPad, memaksa diri untuk fokus. Loop. Trek. Uang."Kepala up!"Aku tersentak kepala saya, melihat Fallon tepat pada waktunya untuk menangkap dia melemparkan botol air. Memegangnya dan menawarkan senyum ketat, aku melihat Dia tersenyum kembali dan berjalan kembali ke Utica, yang bersandar mobilnya, menunggu untuk ras untuk memulai.Sekitar setahun yang lalu, saya sudah mulai bekerja sama dengan Zack Hager, Racemaster, yang akan menjalankan ras di sini pada hari Jumat dan Sabtu malam. Hal-hal yang amatir kembali kemudian. Sebagian besar sekolah menengah setempat balap anak-anak mereka mewah mainan yang Mommy dan Daddy membeli mereka di sekitar jalur tanah yang tidak stabil. Saudaraku, Utica, dan Tate memiliki semua berlomba di sini selama waktu itu. Mereka adalah ilegal peristiwa di properti pribadi yang semua orang tahu tentang tapi tak ada yang peduli untuk berhenti.Dan mengapa mereka? Itu membosankan sebagai neraka.Bagi saya, anyway. Rasanya seperti menonton NASCAR. Gilirannya kiri gilirannya kiri, belok kiri. Tebak apa berikutnya. Ya, belok kiri.Tapi mobil tertarik saya. Balap pasti tertarik saya. Jadi Zack dan aku mengumpulkan sumber daya dan melangkah permainan. SMA ras Jumat malam. Perguruan tinggi dan beyond ras Sabtu malam. Kita menyerang kesepakatan dengan Dirk Benson, petani di tanah jalur duduk, dan mendapat izin untuk membuka itu. Hanya bukan menjadi sebuah bujur sangkar lengkung mengelilingi kolam, trek sekarang mempunyai jenis Hershey's ciuman-mencari atas. Kami telah menyertakan panjang jalan masuk menuju ke trek sebagai bagian dari ras yang sekarang. Driver melakukan gilirannya di trek dan diakhiri dengan balap ke ujung jalan, penyaradan untuk berubah, dan balap kembali ke garis finish.Kami juga telah dibangun lagu kotoran lain melalui hutan antara pertanian dan jalan Raya dan dimasukkan dilemparkan ras juga. Kadang-kadang mereka berlari secara bersamaan, tetapi kami biasanya mencoba untuk menjaga mereka terpisah.Terbaik dari semua, ras yang hampir sepenuhnya hukum — kecuali taruhan — dan sekarang mereka yang terhubung dalam juga. GoPro kamera dipasang pada semua kendaraan sebelum ras sehingga penonton dapat mengakses rekaman pada ponsel mereka dan iPads dengan situs Web saya telah menciptakan. Fitur ini adalah sangat penting bagi ras off-road mana penonton tidak bisa usaha.Zack merawat penjadwalan driver, membuat yakin mereka menandatangani formulir disclaimer kami, dan uang. Aku mengurus hal-hal teknis, perencanaan acara baru, dan perubahan ke trek.Setelah semua, ini akan akhirnya mendapatkan membosankan, juga, jadi hal-hal yang harus terus berubah.Dan untungnya ini membuat saya sibuk. Selama tahun ajaran sekolah, ketika saya menghadiri perguruan tinggi, saya kelas beban, ditambah trek, sudah cukup untuk membuat saya keluar dari masalah. Musim gugur dan musim semi adalah waktu paling aman saya. Sekolah sedang berlangsung, dan cuaca baik untuk balap. Musim dingin dan musim panas yang goyah. Sekolah adalah keluar atau jalur yang sudah mati.Kaki saya bergetar, dan aku menghirup napas sebelum melihat ke bawah.Saya berkedip panjang dan keras, perut saya berubah ketika aku menggali telepon.Ya.Ayahku menelepon secara teratur, dan aku tidak melakukan apa pun untuk menghentikannya. Jared tidak tahu, ibunya, Katherine, tidak tahu, dan aku tidak berjalan dari bajingan.Saya menjawab telepon. "Anda sedang membosankan saya," kataku segera. "Datang menemukan aku ketika Anda keluar, dan kita akan memiliki percakapan nyata kemudian.""Itu mungkin lebih cepat daripada yang Anda pikirkan."Rasa tidak enak diisi mulut saya, tetapi saya mencoba untuk menjaga wajah saya bahkan ketika aku menelan."Baik," jawabku. "Saya masih bermain dengan pisau."Aku mendengar tawanya yang tenang di ujung telepon lain.Aku tidak tahu bagaimana dia menelepon saya. Saya bisa mencari tahu jika saya ingin, tetapi untuk beberapa alasan, aku tidak ingin membuat dia pergi. Saya akan pernah mencoba untuk menghindarinya. Aku ingin dia untuk menghindari saya."Saya hanya ingin apa yang saya selalu ingin," katanya. "Sebuah kesempatan untuk menebus kesalahan. Aku mengangkat Anda, Jax. Saya ingin menunjukkan kepada Anda bahwa aku lebih baik daripada aku.""Tidak, Anda ingin saya untuk mengurus Anda," Aku menembak kembali. "Anda tidak menggunakan saya untuk membayar Anda. Tidak lagi, Anda sakit bercinta."Ketika aku masih kecil, ayah saya digunakan saya — dan Jared — untuk membuat uang. ««««Mencuri, melanggar dan memasuki... Anak-anak bisa mendapatkan di mana orang dewasa tidak bisa, dan ayah saya tahu bahwa."Anda lupa, Anda sedikit omong kosong," Dia berkata sambil menggeram, dan perut saya digulung dengan kenangan nya penghinaan yang dipanggil. "Aku tahu dimana Anda berantakan dimakamkan."Namun ancaman nya tidak memukul rumah, karena aku membuat sialan yakin aku akan selalu memiliki tangan atas."Dan Anda lupa," saya balas, "bahwa saya tidak seorang anak lagi." Aku melompat dari tenda dan berjalan di sekitar ke pintu, melemparkan iPad melalui jendela yang terbuka ke kursi. "Ada orang di sana dengan Anda. Christian Dooley. Anda punya pukulan dari dia, benar?"Telepon adalah diam, jadi aku terus. "Hanya terjadi untuk menjadi benar setelah terakhir kali Anda mengancam saya?" Saya ejek, mengetahui maksud saya adalah jelas. "Mengancam saya lagi, dan Anda tidak akan membuatnya keluar dari pintu-pintu tersebut hidup."Dan aku menutup, meletakkan telapak tangan saya di atap Mustang saya dan menurunkan kepala saya.Ia bukanlah orang, aku berkata pada diriku sendiri. Saya sangat kuat. Saya adalah layak. Dan saya bersih.Aku bisa merasakan keringat di alis saya pendinginan saya seperti angin cahaya memukul, tetapi sekarang saya kembali hampir basah kuyup, dan aku ingin merobek kemeja.Setelah delapan, tetapi hari sinar matahari masih hangat udara. Itu harus lebih dari sembilan puluh derajat."Aku tahu dimana Anda berantakan dimakamkan." Berjabat tangan, dan aku mengepalkan tinju saya.Kekacauan saya telah membuat hari saya punya cukup. Cukup tangan menyentuh saya. Cukup orang menatapku dan menyakitiku. Cukup lemah. Saya hanya menyesal adalah bahwa saya tidak menguburkan ayahku dengan mereka.Saya telah datang jauh dari anak-anak takut itu. Aku tidak pernah ingin menjadi lemah atau terkejut di hubungan atau situasi, dan jadi aku dianggap kontrol mutlak atas segala sesuatu dalam hidup saya.Tapi seperti aku tidak pernah ingin merasa seperti itu najis anak lagi, aku tidak bisa menghilangkan perasaan kotoran pada kulit saya. Aku mengambil dua shower sehari. Aku punya seseorang membersihkan rumah saya dua kali seminggu. Saya selalu menetral satu hal buruk saya katakan atau lakukan dengan dua hal yang layak, seperti sukarela atau menyumbangkan uang, tapi aku masih merasa najis.Tidak ada cukup bersih."Yah, Anda punya saya di sini."Saya mengangkat kepala pada suara suaranya dan berputar-putar untuk melihat Juliet.She stuck her hands in the pockets of her seriously faded, ripped, and tight jeans, and my chest filled with amusement at the sight of her loose black tank top that hung low in the back but showed off her belly button in the front. It had one of those “Keep Calm” logos, but instead it said “I will not keep calm. I will raise hell and break shit.”My father was forgotten.“I’m not a fan of this scene,” she admitted with a glint of humor in her eyes, “so if I’m still bored in an hour, Shane and Fallon promised me we could leave and go back to the carnival.”“You think that’s more fun?” I challenged, sauntering over to her.She nodded. “Oh, yes.”I smiled, unable not to touch her anymore. Reaching out and taking her hand, I pulled her into me as I leaned back against the car.“I’ve got a carnival ride for you.” I leaned into her lips. “Open all night,” I whispered, taking her lips in mine and wrapping my arms around her waist.I heard her snort at my lame joke, but I was smiling, too.She tasted like water. Every time I’d kissed her it had been like that. As if I was so thirsty I sucked in gulp after gulp, realizing how much my body needed this and how I felt soothed the more I drank.I reached up and cupped her face with one hand, diving into her mouth and working my tongue around hers. Holding on to her, I molded her hips to mine and felt her moan against my lips. I slipped my hand inside her shirt under her arm, feeling the bare skin of her back. So smooth. Like cream.“Jax,” she gasped, trying to pull away, “we’re in public.” I knew she didn’t want to stop, but she was embarrassed.I normally would have been, too. I didn’t do PDAs, but with her? Hell yeah.I looked down at her, not letting go. “I know. I just want to touch you all the time. Now that you’re letting me, it’s hard to stop.”Her hair hung loose and smooth, straightened and parted in the middle. Her green eyes sparkled under dark eye shadow, and I was glad her lips were clear of lipstick. She had full light pink lips, and they were perfect the way they were.She smirked happily. “Touch me all the time,” she repeated. “But we don’t get along.”“We get along great.” I grinned. “As long as you don’t talk.” And I leaned down, snatching up her lips again.She laughed and tried to push away from me, her back bending and her head falling back, but I held tight.“Stop!” She giggled and squirmed as I kissed a trail up her neck. I loved seeing her giddy.“Stop talking,” I scolded, still kissing her. “We get into trouble when you speak.” And I took her earlobe in my teeth, sucking hard, and she went limp.“I feel like I’m falling,” she admitted through her breathlessness, standing up straight and taking my hands away. “But it feels good.”I cocked my head and folded my arms over my chest. “Are we putting K.C. away so Juliet can come out to play?” I joked.She mock-scowled at me. “Juliet’s not any more docile, if that’s what you’re hoping.”
I licked my lips.