Switching Gears Read online

  Praise for Switching Gears

  “An emotional tale of finding love after loss. Switching Gears boasts a cast of wonderfully flawed characters that grow their way into your heart.”

  —Kasie West, author of The Fill-In Boyfriend and P.S. I Like You

  “Packed full of competitive spirit and restorative heart.”

  —Natalie Whipple, author of House of Ivy & Sorrow and Transparent

  Praise for Love, Lucas

  “Just as readers think they know how this story is going to end, a big plot twist changes the tale’s course…. Fans of Sarah Dessen and realistic fiction with a poignant and sad slant will find this an enjoyable read.”

  —School Library Journal

  “A deeply moving tale of unimaginable loss and the redemptive power of love. Sedgwick masterfully delves into the painful details of losing a loved one, breaking your heart even as her beautiful words stitch you back together. Romance and friendship, true growth and authentic healing, this story blew me away. It takes a special book to bring tears to my eyes and make me swoon.”

  —Rachel Harris, New York Times bestselling author of The Fine Art of Pretending and The Natural History of Us

  “Chantele Sedgwick’s Love, Lucas, is a beautiful story about finding hope, first loves, and learning to live again after the loss of a sibling. With a fantastic cast, and the gorgeous setting of the California coast, this book is one fabulous read.”

  —Jolene Perry author of The Summer I Found You and Has to Be You

  “A beautiful, moving novel of loss and love. Sedgwick’s elegant prose weave a heart-breaking tale that stays with you long after you have finished the last page.”

  —G. R. Mannering, author of Roses and Feathers

  “An emotional summer of love, hope, and healing! Love, Lucas is easy to adore with Sedgwick’s real relationships, sweet romance, and tale of renewal.”

  —Lizzy Charles, author of Effortless With You

  “Chantele Sedgwick navigates the dark waters of grief with a deft hand and plenty of heart. Love, Lucas will drag readers under before bringing them back to the surface for a life-saving breath of hope.”

  —Amy Finnegan, author of Not In the Script

  Copyright © 2017 by Chantele Sedgwick

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Sky Pony Press books may be purchased in bulk at special discounts for sales promotion, corporate gifts, fund-raising, or educational purposes. Special editions can also be created to specifications. For details, contact the Special Sales Department, Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018 or [email protected].

  Sky Pony® is a registered trademark of Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.®, a Delaware corporation.

  Visit our website at www.skyponypress.com.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Cover design by Georgia Morrissey

  Print ISBN: 978-1-5107-0506-7

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-0507-4

  Printed in the United States of America

  To my mom, Cheri Wardleigh

  For teaching me to never give up and for never giving up on me.

  “Biking is about rhythm and flow. It’s the wind in your face and the challenge of hammering up a long hill. It’s the reward at the top and the thrill of a high-speed descent. Biking lets you come alive in both body and spirit. After a while the bike disappears beneath you and you feel as if you’re suspended in midair.”

  —Gary Klein

  CHAPTER 1

  Even after swallowing a bug about a mile back, I can’t wipe the grin off my face. The breeze hums through the trees and rushes across my skin as I take the next turn.

  The first mountain bike race of the season should feel different. After all those wintery months out of shape, I should feel more nervous. Anxious. Maybe a little scared. But as I shift gears to go up the last uphill before the end of the race, I’m elated. Higher than the moon, even. I was born to do this.

  A mixture of pine and dirt reaches my nose and I take a deep breath, letting the fresh air in. I love the smell of nature. The trail is narrow here, with pine and fir trees surrounding me on both sides, but I don’t feel claustrophobic at all. It’s perfect—peaceful—and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.

  The climb is steep and my hands tighten on the grips of my handlebars. I’m sweating. I probably have disgusting sweat spots everywhere, but right now, I couldn’t care less. The only thing between me and the finish line is this monster of a hill.

  Uphill is pretty much my downfall, but I have a good feeling today. I’ve got a great lead. I can do this if I keep moving and don’t lose my focus.

  Almost there. Almost there. The thought keeps running through my head as I climb.

  You’ve got this. You can do this. Keep pedaling and ignore the pain. Keep moving.

  My sunglasses dig into my nose and I lift a hand to adjust them, wiping at the sweat pooling on my forehead. I wince at the burning in my legs, but they’re nothing compared to my butt right now. It burns so much it feels like it’s going to fall off. Which is a nice thought, actually, but the pain reminds me of how much I’ve slacked this season.

  It’s entirely my fault, of course. Mourning will do that to a person.

  It’s been a month since Lucas died. My neighbor, my best friend, and the boy I’ve loved since grade school. He’s part of so many memories, and nothing I do can erase them. Which sucks. Sometimes I wish he’d get out of my head. That I’d forget him. But he just won’t go away.

  Instead of focusing on something else in my life, all I’ve been doing is, well … nothing. Moping, eating—pick something bad for you and that’s me. But now, in the middle of this race, I feel a piece of me stitching itself back together. I’ve missed this.

  All of it.

  The dirt, the bugs, the pain. Everything.

  I focus on the trail in front of me—keeping my breathing steady, feeling the familiar rhythm of my heart beat against my chest—and try and fail to keep thoughts of Lucas out of my head.

  Nothing I do will change the fact that he’s gone. I know that. But I can’t help the way I feel without him here. Especially after he told me he loved me. I long for what might have happened if the cancer would have left him alone. He’d be waiting for me at the finish line right now. A huge smile on his face, and his blue eyes matching the sky.

  I shake my head, cursing myself for the direction my thoughts have gone. Again.

  Get your head in the game, Emmy.

  I wipe the sweat from my forehead again and push on as the trail widens on either side of me. I’ve only gone a few more yards when I sense someone behind me. I frown and glance to my left as she passes me like it’s nothing.

  Whitney.

  Her blonde ponytail flaps behind her as she passes me, not even looking winded, and to make things worse, she gives me a smug smile and winks. Winks.

  My eyes narrow on her retreating back as the adrenaline kicks in and I push myself harder. I try to match her pace, but she keeps pulling further and further away. As much as I pedal, my lungs feeling like they’re on fire, and I know it’s not going to be enough. She’s awesome and she knows it.

  I fight to stay in control, my body protesting every single turn of my pedals, but my energy is fadin
g. I had a great lead and I lost it.

  Like always.

  Whitney reaches the top and disappears for a split second. Once I reach it, I switch gears and pedal hard. The ground is flat up here and I ride on the smooth dirt until the downhill starts.

  Rocks. Everywhere. I settle into a good pace, noting how far ahead Whitney is now, and start down.

  I’m pretty good at downhill, but these rocks freak me out, so I’m careful not to hit one wrong. I really don’t want to experience flying over my handlebars. Especially during a race.

  The rocks get bigger the further I go and I maneuver the best I can, keeping up my speed, but cautious all the same. I can’t remember the last time I had such a rocky downhill. This is definitely not my favorite trail.

  I stand on my pedals and put my weight at the back of the bike, my butt a few inches off the seat. If you ever sit on a bike going down a hill covered with big rocks, I guarantee your butt will be black and blue. Even with the shock taking most of the impact, it still hurts.

  A crowd cheers as Whitney passes the finish line and I try to stay upbeat. Second isn’t that bad, but a frown creeps in anyway. She beat me.

  Again.

  I slide past the finish line a moment later and, despite the cheering from the people around me, I’m disappointed. I was sure I’d beat her this time. Sure of it. I pull on my brakes and roll to a stop, letting the dust settle around me. Whitney shoots me a smug smile as I unclip my shoes from my pedals and step off my bike, but I turn and ignore her.

  My best friend, Kelsie, comes out of nowhere and tackles me in a huge hug. “Emmy, you did great!” Her momentum makes us both almost fall to the ground, but I catch myself on the guy standing next to us. I grab onto his arm, almost pulling him with us, but he flexes and I stand upright, still holding his arm. I glance up and give him a shaky smile.

  I have no idea who he is and he’s not very happy to see me. “Uh … sorry?”

  He doesn’t say anything, but shakes his head and walks away, leaving me staring after him with my mouth open. How embarrassing.

  “That was awkward,” Kelsie says.

  I turn my attention back to her. “Yes. Yes, it was.”

  “At least he broke our fall.” She giggles. “And you got second? Are you kidding me? That’s awesome!”

  “Thanks.” I hug her back before pulling away from her grasp.

  “Seriously. That downhill? Insane. And you, my friend, are insane for doing it.”

  I shrug. “It wasn’t too bad. A little rocky.” I smile at her expression.

  “A little?”

  “Okay, a lot. Kind of freaked me out for a minute. I kept picturing myself hitting one of the rocks and flying over the handlebars. That would have been lovely for everyone to see.”

  “I’m sure you would have been very graceful.”

  I laugh. “Thanks. I wish you could have raced with me today.”

  She shakes her head. “I know. My knee’s still bugging me. Maybe next time.”

  “Next time for sure.” I take a swig of water from my CamelBak. “Ugh. Warm.”

  “Warm water’s the worst.”

  “I know.” I take another swig anyway.

  After I take my helmet off, I grab an elastic and pull my dark hair into a ponytail. My head is all sweaty and gross, which reminds me of the sweat stains again. I need to get in front of the air conditioner and fast. And then a shower would be nice. I feel bad for anyone standing too close to me.

  “Hey, let’s go get your time before we take off.”

  “Okay.”

  We walk over to the judge’s booth and a man sitting next to a huge fan stares up at me. “Number?”

  I look down at my jersey and the piece of paper pinned to it. “Twelve.”

  He nods, looks down at a piece of paper sitting on the table in front of him, and hands me an envelope with my number on it.

  “Congratulations. You were second out of forty riders today in the sixteen to eighteen age group,” he says.

  Right. Second. And Whitney was first. Story of my life. “Thanks.” I smile and take the envelope without looking inside. I already know what it is. My time and brochures for the next race. Second place doesn’t get anything else.

  “They’ll announce the winners later on if you’d like to stay.”

  “Thanks.” I turn to Kelsie. “Let’s get out of here.” I don’t really want to stand in the heat forever just to hear my name announced. And I can’t handle Whitney’s gloating. To beat Whitney, I need to train more. If only I had a coach.

  We walk to the parking lot and I put my bike on my rack. Once I lock it up, I hear music blasting through the parking lot. I don’t even have to turn around to know who it is, but I find myself looking anyway.

  Dirt flies up in clouds around his truck as he drives toward us, his music getting louder by the second. “What’s he doing here?” I mutter under my breath.

  “Seriously? Why wouldn’t Cole be here, Em? The guys race at ten.” She stands up straight and brushes her fingers through her light hair, giving herself a quick check in my side mirror. She looks at me and frowns. “You need to fix that hair. Stat.”

  “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “What?” She takes a tube of lip gloss out of her pocket and slides it on her lips. “Cole’s hot. Even you think he is. Don’t even try to deny it either. I can see your lies coming a mile away.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  She shrugs and reaches out to attempt to fix my hair. “Just admit he’s hot. And put this on. Your lips are super chapped and need a little color.” She holds out the lip gloss, but I don’t take it.

  I frown, knowing I won’t win this one. Because she’s right. He is. “He’s also my least favorite person on the planet.” I swipe her hand away from my hair and ignore the lip gloss in her hand. I don’t have to attempt to look cute for anyone.

  She sighs and puts the gloss back in her pocket. “No he’s not. Whitney is. You’re still mad the school mountain biking team picked him as team captain and not you.”

  “That’s not the reason.” I frown and avoid her eyes. It’s totally the reason. We both know it. Obviously I haven’t gotten over it.

  “Pretty sure it is or you wouldn’t be so defensive. And you’d still be on the team.”

  “Everything was fine until he had to take over. He’s cocky, Kelsie. He knows he’s good. He could lay off throwing it in everyone’s faces.”

  She grins. “He kind of has a reason to be cocky. And honestly, he’s not that bad. He was in one of my classes this year. He’s nice.”

  “Nice? He’s …” I try to search for the right word, but come up short. “Anything but nice.”

  “Because you know him so well, right?”

  I don’t say anything and don’t turn to look at her glare.

  “You know, if you’d get back on the team, maybe he could get some sponsors to watch you race. He had sponsors looking at him when he was in California. I’ll bet they’re still looking. He could totally hook you up.”

  “Doubtful. And Whitney would never let me back on the team now. She hates me.”

  “She doesn’t have a say. You’re the one who put the team together last summer, so everyone else’s opinions would count more than hers.”

  “Still. I can’t stand her.”

  She glances over at Whitney, who’s busy flirting it up with a bunch of guys. “She is kind of a skank, right?”

  I laugh.

  “But in all seriousness. You should at least think about racing with the team again. You loved it.”

  “They don’t need me when they have Cole. And I’m fine training by myself.”

  I don’t miss her eye roll. “Sure …”

  “Besides, I can’t afford all the gear he wanted us to get. I can’t even afford a pair of the gloves! He doesn’t realize everyone doesn’t have money like him. And the trainers he has? I’m not that good. I don’t have anything else to offer that he hasn’t already of
fered.”

  “Calm down. I know all the bells and whistles he has. I was on the team, too, remember?”

  “You can actually afford things, though.”

  She shakes her head. “Not me. My parents. And you know they don’t just buy me whatever I want. I have to work for it.”

  “I know. Sorry. I just … I wish things were like they were before he moved here.” Like when life was a little less complicated. When I had more friends than Kelsie. When Lucas was still here.

  Lucas. His name makes my stomach twist and my chest tighten. I wish he’d stop popping into my head all the time. It always kills my mood. I shake my head and focus on something else. Something that doesn’t involve anything related to him. Like races and biking. Happy things.

  “Well, they aren’t. But we could make things work if you’d quit being so stubborn. Coach Clarke is trying to find some local businesses to sponsor the team, so the money thing isn’t a good excuse. You need to let your grudge against Cole go.”

  I turn away from her and try to calm myself. She’s right, of course. I have a hard time admitting defeat. Especially to someone like Cole. If there were such a thing as a playboy of mountain biking, Cole Evans would be it.

  I haven’t seen him since school got out a few weeks ago, but lo and behold, here he is. I was hoping I could avoid him until senior year, but I guess I’m not that lucky.

  Cole pulls his black truck next to my wimpy car and rolls down the window after the dust settles. “Nice rack.”

  I roll my eyes. Even if he’s talking about my bike rack, it still sounds ridiculous.

  “Thanks,” Kelsie says. “She just got it.”

  A high-pitched laugh echoes through the parking lot. I look over and see Whitney a few cars down. “That’s for sure!” she yells and turns back to her friends to laugh some more.

  My cheeks heat and I look away.

  “I prefer Yakima, but Thule’s pretty good,” Cole says.

  I turn to face him. “I only use the best.”

  His hazel eyes widen and he smirks, showing off the dimple in his left cheek. “Of course you do.”