Losing to the Rookie

Home : Stories by Jaik : All Alone Series : Losing to the Rookie

Summary: Carl beats Jimmie to the line at Altanta...and Jimmie doesn’t like it.

AUTHOR: Jaik
EMAIL: jaik@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG-13
CHARACTER: Jimmie Johnson, Jeff Gordon, Jimmie POV
SERIES: All Alone
CATEGORY: General
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I want Jimmie to long to have something with Jeff, but Jeff always is just a bit short of giving. But Jimmie is so head over heels with Jeff, no matter how Jeff throws him he’s gonna keep coming back. If I get all inspired, maybe this will be a series, depends on the feedback
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“How the hell could Carl friggin’ Edwards beat me twice in a row in races that close?” No matter how many times I go over the tapes I can’t find a thing wrong, and if I can’t find anything wrong, then why the fuck is it bugging me so damn much? But still, for some reason, I feel like it’s my duty to go over these last laps again and again and again until I find that one little thing Carl did to beat me.

“Jesus, I’m as bad as a damned official,” I say and get up to grab a Gatorade from the fridge. As I’m walking back, I watch Carl do his stupid-ass back flip and glare daggers at him as he nearly misses the takeoff and comes down awkwardly. “It’s a damn shame you didn’t break something…damn rookie show-off.”

I can’t believe I’m actually standing here being jealous of Carl “Mr. Ed-wards,” I think to myself with a sneer. I grip my bottle so tight it creaks under the pressure, take a drink and swallow. “No way,” I say under my breath as I can’t believe what I just saw. “Oh you cheatin’ little bastard,” I curse and I watch in frustrated awe as I see one of his crew members reach down, in plain sight on the track, and deliberately knock on the fender. “Well, that’s how ya beat me you damn cheater.” I feel like telling every kind of official in a 10-mile radius. It just so happens that I “noticed” a mishap during post race. If I don’t get a crew chief next week, then why should he? Hey, I didn’t mean to cheat, but I got blamed for it. So maybe he didn’t mean to cheat, but neither did I so we’ll just both suffer, damn it.

Suddenly a knock comes smashing through my epiphany. Aww, and I was ready to do my happy dance, I think sarcastically, until the knock comes again and I realize someone’s still at the door. “Yeah, I’m coming,” I call out as I open the door to see my boss standing there, almost livid. I step to the side and he storms through the door to the couch. He turns and I can practically see the air swirl with him as he drops down on the couch. He doesn’t even mind that his cap came off he sat down so quickly.

“You,” he looks right at me with an icy glare so cruel it sends a shiver down my spine. “lost,” he jumps up and grabs my arm, looking like he’s ready to chop my head square off my shoulders.

“But it wasn’t my fau--”

He holds up a hand and silences me “to,” he cracks a smile and laughs “the rookie.” He finishes and drowns in a fit of laughing. That’s when I see that he was just trying to unnerve me, but now that I know he was just messing with me, I’ve got a good feeling about this visit. He walks to my fridge and yanks out a Pepsi, snapping open the lid and I watch as he takes a swig. God I love that pose. How he slightly tilts his head back and drinks calmly, like nothing in the world can touch him.

“See something you like Jimmie?”

“Oh uh, nah, just thought you looked kinda…,” I trail off trying to change the subject from the fact I was just staring and damn near drooling over him.

“So what do you have to say for yourself…loser?” He sets down his Pepsi and walks over to me and pokes me in the chest.

“I, uh, I-I-I’m, sorry?” I stammer. I try to find words to give him, anything, even an excuse, but I can’t find a thing to say. When he looks up at me with those piercing blue eyes, it makes me feel like I’m a short little boy looking up at my dad again, except Jeff looks up to me in a sense. But when he looks at me like this, I’m the one who’s 5’7” and he’s 5’11”. It kills me to see the quick thought of disappointment flash across his face, then he confirms it. Good feeling gone.

“Jimmie I’m not trying to bust your ass, but…you lost to a rookie.” He closes his Pepsi and grabs the cap he had dropped.

“You lost to a rookie, remember that shiny new 29 on Dale’s car…remember Harvick.”

He glares at me and says in a voice so filled with anger that I flinch “Yeah, I liked the kid, so I cut him some slack. Do you remember he only won by thousandths of a second?” his anger disappears just as fast as it arrived. I’m taken aback and I let that awkward silence fill the room as I carefully think what to say.

“Jeff look, I’ll go run some laps and I promise it won’t hap--” but for the second time he stops me short. “You’re right, it won’t.” He opens the door and steps out closing it behind so I can’t follow.

I walk to my window and follow him with my eyes as he walks away.

Then I quietly utter “Sorry.”

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Jaik - jaik@cryptoffic.com