However it goes, it ends in pain.

Chapter 9

Going to the racetracks and driving with Ali and his friends becomes routine. It has been an amazing routine. Luckily school is on a break, so I get to go there almost every day.

I find myself looking forward to seeing the gang of riders. Planning out meetings into my weekly schedule. I was even looking online for sports cars.

'This is one is a bit different from others' Ali explains showing me the engineof a new car that just came in.

'My goodness! I can't believe I've been coming here for two weeks' I laugh.

He's looking at me, eyes bright. 'Me either. You don't strike me as the riding type'

His butter voice goes over my head. 'I don't?' I ask just because I can.

'No. you don't.' from the distance I notice Hemma and Bayan. They walk in engrossed in a conversation.

'The other one is better!' Hemma explains.

'My baby is a sweet ride, and I won't ever give her up' Bayan answers shrugging.

'Suit yourself.' Hemma responds, storming off.

Bayan approaches us 'She's so dramatic.' She says to Ali, to which he smiles in response.

'To me she says 'wants me to change out my sweet ride. I can't betray my car like that. You don't do that.'

The moment she's out of ear shot, Ali and I burst out laughing.

Very few people are racing today, we're doing maintenance. I watch them work on the cars, it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. The stretch of their lats on their shirts, the rolled up sleeves, the sweat dripping down their cheeks in the hot sun, their bare feet. I find it so consuming. I try to remember if I ever saw Usman doing something manual like this, I never.

I find Ali attractive. But I don't think it is more than that. There is a kind of feeling not quite love, but not just a likeness that I find myself always longing to give out to people, cab drivers who were nice to me, parents struggling, orphaned babies, hurting sons. Just anyone at all who may not have enough people showing them love. I find myself seeking out to give them that feeling.

While I am not sure if Ali is loved a whole lot, I know that I want to love him, I am not yet there, but I anticipate it.

It is for this reason I know that he and I will be the best of friends.

.

Ali walks to where the three of us girls are standing around a car, Hemma still sulking. His hands and feet covered in oil, his hair in a net. I laugh at this, his frowns jokingly.

'You tease me' he says gruffly, clearing his throat.

Shaking my head I reply. 'I didn't say anything'

With a head shake of his own he walks off to clean up.

.

On our 17th day together with the cars, Ali asks to check my leg, again. I tell him its fine but after his stubborn insistence I give in.

'It looks very good. It's healed very well.'

'Yeah. Like I said the million times you've asked about it'

'I just really care about my patients.' Is his grumble of a response.

I decide to drop it. Sometimes I can't tell if I've taken the jokes too far.

Luckily another racer interrupts us, his name is also Ali. Aliyu.

'Hey' I say to him.

'Amra.' He smiles. Everything good?'