Race to school || With Rudy || September 21st
Jesse sat at the edge of his bed, the morning light creeping through blinds that never closed quite right. The air held that faint crispness of early fall, the kind that made the first week of school feel different from the lazy weight of summer. Senior year. It was supposed to feel bigger, final, something worth anticipating. Instead, it just pressed down on him like a deadline he hadn’t asked for.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the shoes he hadn’t bothered to put on yet, or even get dressed, or even get up for that matter. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that made every creak of the floor upstairs sound sharper. It had been for months now. His mom was still gone, and though no one really said how long “gone” was supposed to mean, Jesse felt the empty space in every corner. This was the first school year he’d started without her calling from the kitchen, reminding him not to be late. His sister was miles away at college, barely a voice on the other end of a phone anymore, swallowed up by her own new life. That left just him, waking up to silence, trying not to notice how hollow it felt.
His thoughts drifted back to Fernwood’s crowded hallways, the way everyone had been rushing to sign up for teams, for clubs, for anything that would stamp their place in the year. He’d walked past the posters countless times without stopping. Senior year was supposed to be about living, having fun, making memories, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to make any more memories here.
Charlotte’s face kept flashing through his mind no matter how hard he tried to shove it aside. It had been only weeks since the breakup, but the space between them already felt like a canyon. He hadn’t seen her properly in days, just the occasional glimpse across a hallway, that instinctive pull to look away before their eyes could meet. He wondered what it would feel like if he ran into her today. Would she look at him like he was just another classmate now? Or would her eyes still hold some shadow of what they’d been, all those late nights when she felt like the only real thing in the world?
Jesse rubbed his palms together, restless, uneasy. There was a part of him that dreaded school not because of the tests or the lectures, but because of her. Because the possibility of seeing Charlotte, even from across a room, felt heavier than anything else waiting for him that day.
Then out of nowhere, a first, a second, a horn that blasted again and again and again, long and obnoxious, rattling Jesse’s bedroom window. He groaned, dragging himself out of bed, hair sticking up at odd angles, and trudged over to peek outside. He didn’t even need to look, he knew that sound anywhere. Rudy’s truck. Of course. Our boy Rudy had a talent for showing up at the worst possible moment, like a storm rolling in on a clear day.
Caleb’s voice bellowed from down the hall, half-asleep and half-enraged, “Tell your damn friend to cut it out before I call the fcking cops!” A neighbor’s dog started barking in the distance, and Jesse swore he heard someone yell something about “school starting too early for this crap.”
Shoving on the nearest hoodie, Jesse stumbled out the front door, squinting against the sharp morning sun. He stepped onto the porch, glaring at Rudy like he’d just set the neighborhood on fire. “What—” Jesse started, voice low and irritated. He raised a brow, unimpressed, but Rudy wasn’t about to let him get a word in, he was on a manifesto about racing, clearly it was a passion. He slapped the side of his truck like he was presenting a prize on The Price Is Right.
Anyways, being drafted and all, Jesse dragged a hand down his face, muttering something that sounded a lot like a curse, and glanced back at the house. Caleb was probably pacing the kitchen already, coffee mug in hand, muttering about “idiot friends with engines for brains.” The neighbors were definitely filing noise complaints in their heads. And Jesse? He just wanted ten more minutes of not existing. But Rudy was looking at him like this was life or death, his grin so wide it was impossible not to get pulled into the orbit of it.
”So what’s it gonna be, man? You gonna stand there looking like a grumpy old grandpa or you gonna try and beat me to school?“
“You’re out of your mind,” Jesse said finally. “Come on,” Rudy taunted him, revving the engine again. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
That did it. Jesse’s tired glare sharpened into something closer to defiance. “Scared? Of you? Please.” He adjusted his hoodie and jogged down the steps, heading for his car like he was marching into battle. “Not only I’ll try and beat you, I will beat you, and kick your a.ss too”
“Atta boy!” Rudy hollered, pounding the side of his truck like a war drum. By the time Jesse slid into the driver’s seat, his pulse was already kicking faster. He hadn’t exactly felt like himself lately, first with his mom, then Charlotte, and all the other stuff in between. But right here, in this moment, with Rudy acting like the world’s most obnoxious hype man, Jesse felt a flicker of something else.
Not joy exactly, but adrenaline. A reason to move.
“But-“ he stopped “ when I win, you’re buying me more than lunch. I want fries. And a shake.”
“Deal!” Rudy slapped the steering wheel, triumphant. “Loser buys the deluxe meal.”
The street was still damp from sprinklers, tires spitting mist as Jesse floored it down the block. He didn’t even bother with music, engine noise and Rudy’s truck in his mirror were enough.
Engines snarled as Jesse and Rudy shot down the street, tires squealing against asphalt. Jesse gripped the wheel tighter than he meant to, heart pounding, not just from speed, but from the way Rudy’s truck loomed in his mirror like a predator. Every bone in his body was screaming that this was stupid, but some stubborn part of him refused to let him win this easily.
Rudy was shouting something that sounded like “victory tastes like gasoline,” leaning out the window with that wild grin of his, but Jesse couldn’t hear a word over the roar of engines and the pounding of his own heartbeat.
The school came into view at the end of the stretch, students already spilling onto the sidewalk, a few heads turning at the sight of two trucks barreling toward the lot like it was a drag strip. Jesse gripped the wheel tighter, heart hammering, the distance between him and Rudy shrinking—
Come on, did you think he was going to let Rudy win? Genes on a mechanic, you guys, there’s no such thing as losing when it comes to cars.
“Ha! Told you I got this,” Jesse laughed, pulling into the parking lot, a little winded but grinning.
Rudy skidded in right behind him, shaking his head. “No way… you cheated!”
“Luck, my friend. Pure skill I tell you, raw fcking talent” Jesse said, hopping out of the truck. His chest was still racing, adrenaline buzzing through his veins, but the morning air smelled like victory, and maybe a little bit like exhaust.
@astxrism Rude boy
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