I AVOIDED THE MESS HALL like a coward and arrived at the track forty-five minutes early, so I didn't have to run into Jace. This was ridiculous. We were on the same team and would have to cross paths eventually.

I crouched next to Austin, who was currently running diagnostics on my bike. I had no intention of racing, but dirt biking would help get my head in the game after six long months of nothing. "How does it look?" I asked, avoiding the ever-increasing sound of the mess hall wafting out the open door across from the mechanic shop.

Austin adjusted on his stool. "Good," he replied–his backward cap set atop his jet black hair. "It needs an oil change though. I'll have Jessica do it."

I grated my teeth. The whole point of me getting up at the crack of dawn to get here was so that I could avoid her too.

"It's alright," I assured him, hands on knees as I rose. "I can do it."

Austin arched a brow. "Since when?"

I sagged, jutting my hip to the side. He must have heard about the unfortunate bad luck I had with the stupid piece of shit Bronco. "I know how to change the oil," I hissed. "I'm not completely helpless."

Austin gave me a look and I rolled my eyes. It was no secret he babied me. A fact the team teased me about when I was first signed.

I hated it. But what I hated the most was the murmured whispers behind my back. I was the daughter of a Snocross god. I grew up in the racing circuit, learning to ride on the track with some of the best moto and Snocross riders in the world. It was cute when I was young, but over the years I'd learned just how disadvantaged I was being Nick Baker's daughter. Especially when it came to friends.

Austin pulled me from thought. "What's up with you?"

I shrugged teal-coloured shoulders—my jersey matching the colour scheme of my bike–teal, black and white. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for starters," he said, gesturing to the bike, "you never change your own oil. You usually beg me to do it for you." I frowned as he reached for a clean rag. "And you're never out here this early."

I folded arms across my chest. "I'm always early."

"Not this early."

I seethed. "I've missed six months of training," I replied as nonchalant as possible. "I could use the extra time."

He grabbed a wrench, contemplating his next words. "Look, I know it's none of my business, but maybe you should give yourself more time–"

"I'm fine," I interjected, really not wanting him to finish that sentence or talk about Hama.

I hated how worried everyone was. While our family consoled one another and my brother sobbed silently at my side the day of her funeral, I remained as quiet as the dead as they laid Hama to rest.

It wasn't normal, I knew that, but I wasn't ready to accept it. At least, that's what I heard the others whisper.

Austin glanced at my bike. "I know Linda's death was hard on you, Nadine. It was hard on all of us, but if you ever need to talk. I'm here."

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, biting my tongue before I lashed out and said something I knew I'd regret.

They didn't know what it was like. To watch the strongest woman you ever knew wither to nothing. To wake up every hour near the end and administer her medication because she was in so much pain she couldn't do it herself.

My throat seared, remembering that exhaustion and all the hours I sobbed quietly next to her before she finally went, but I refused to break, so I simply said, "I appreciate it," because that's what you're supposed to say when you don't want to be bothered. It worked far better than the I'm fine tactic. "I'll change the oil later." At home.

Austin quirked a small smile as I reached for the handles of my bike. I nearly made it out the door when the familiar greeting of my little brother caught my attention. "Nadine!"

My neck snapped left toward the parking lot, my gaze landing on Nico and my younger cousin Logan.

I grinned as he jogged across the gravel, boots crunching. He was the spitting image of my father, aside from his eyes. Those belong to Mom. "I missed you."

I nearly tipped over the seat of my bike when he barreled into me—long arms wrapped around my shoulders. I clung a little tighter—the smell of gas and track dirt lining my nose. "I didn't hear you come home?" I said when he released me.

"I stayed at Uncle Nate's."

I glance at Logan with eyes of emerald green and hair dark as night. "Hey, cuz," he said, reaching out a hand.

I took it, greeting him with the same handshake Lily and I taught him when we were young before wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders and bringing him in. "Where's your sister?"

He pulled, trying to smooth out the hair I tussled. "In the mess hall?"

"You eating?" Nico asked, jabbing his chin

"I ate," I lied. "I needed Austin to look over the bike."

Nico opened his mouth, likely about to make a teasing remark regarding Austin's mechanic skills—which were legendary and well sought—until another voice caught my attention. "Nadine?"

I froze at the sound of Jace's voice—heart stopping instantly.

Logan and Nico glanced over their shoulders to the mess hall—my brother's expression tightening by the second.

I expected them to greet him as they normally would. Instead, they turned, fully rooted to the floor with arms folded across their chest.

Jace didn't notice, his gaze fixed on me as he stepped off the wrap-around deck skirting the hall and approached. My mouth dried as number 357 looked back and forth across the gravel road. Five feet, ten inches tall and a hundred sixty pounds. His black and yellow jersey matching his KTM.

He slowed to a stop—brown eyes assessing. "Hey."

I lifted my brows. That was it? "Hey."

The boys didn't move—the two standing like guards at my side as the silence beat between us like a summer's sun. They knew about the breakup. Everyone knew no thanks to Lily, who snapped when I told her, but we'd managed to keep it from Mom and Dad. I wasn't ready to go down that road of questioning just yet.

"I didn't see your truck in the lot," Jace said, gesturing to my left.

A gust of warm wind blew a lock of dark hair before my face. "I borrowed my mom's," I replied flatly, tucking it behind my ear.

He stood awkwardly before us, and I couldn't tell if he was nervous about seeing me or worried I would see where he was going. Jessica usually showed up for work at this time. Normally it wouldn't have bothered me. I trusted Jess, but Hunt's words drowned out that voice. They clanged in my head, leaving nothing but a thrash of echoing chaos.

Maybe Hunt was right. Maybe...

Austin piped up from behind. "The chassis fixed," he said to Jace. "Your bikes in the back."

A wave of relief washed through me. He was here for his bike, not for Jessica. At that moment, I hated Hunt for planting that seed of doubt in my mind. For listening and contemplating the truth of his claims about Jess and Jace. Anything for a win. That's what my dad had said when I asked about Levi Hunt when I was younger. After a rather embarrassing display of humiliation in grade school when the rider in question left me teary-eyed in a circle of our peers.

Jace smiled in acknowledgement—forced and tight-lipped before giving his attention back to me when my brother and I made to leave. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

I hated that little flare of hope in my chest. "About?"

My brother shifted on his feet, drawing Jace's attention. "It's... private."

"I'm busy right now," I replied, and it wasn't a lie. I wasn't about to discuss anything in front of my little brother, and I knew he wouldn't leave my side.

Words of our break up came to mind. How he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and said he still wanted to be friends. I didn't know how to be friends with him. Not when I was used to claiming those lips any time I felt like it. How I'd leap into his arms when I came home from school and spend the night in his sheets.

I must have shown the resentment on my face because he dipped his chin, swiping a finger under his nose. "Maybe I'll see you later."

It was doubtful, but I said, "Sure."

He made his way around me, and my mask cracked in time with my heart, but I wouldn't break. Not here. I lost enough already.

I took a discrete inhale through my nose and pushed, rolling my bike into motion, not noticing the dagger gaze my little brother sliced in Jace's direction.

A/N: Poor girl. Nadine posted on her Instagram today. Her meme be like,

Thank you so much for reading!