New Road

Home : Stories by Catw00man : Memory & Dream : New Road

Summary: Kevin chooses a new path.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG-13
SERIES: Memory & Dream
CHARACTERS: Kevin Harvick, Kevin POV.
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #58 (#33 for me) - Straight from the Dead Man’s Mouth
COMPLETED: September 1, 2007
WORDS: 928
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: Umm…yeah. We’re insane but I’m so completely in love with these boys already. This is probably the most OC thing I’ve ever attempted and…YAY! I hope you guys love this half as much as we do! This is set in San Francisco, 1997 as Kevin makes the choice to go to college when he doesn’t get his big break in racing. We’ve created out own college for this, but it’s based on several.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

San Francisco University: September 2nd, 1997

There was a time I never dreamed I’d fit into a place like this.  No, if it didn’t involve the sound of loud motors and the smell of gasoline and exhaust I wasn’t even interested.  I really thought that’s where my life would lead me.  It’s all I ever dreamt about and for a little while…I thought I was going to make it.  But you need to catch a break to make the big time and I was never that lucky.

Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if I could have caught the eye of a scout or team owner from the east coast.  Maybe if I’d finished just one place better or not missed one race too many thanks to my damn truck breaking down.  Maybe if I’d had the resources to hold out a little but longer, travel to a few more tracks.  I’d even considered moving out to North Carolina to try my hand out there, but I didn’t have the money and drivers out there are a dime a dozen.  You’d think maybe my father could have helped me catch a break considering it’s his life but I’ll be damned if I beg for a handout.  No, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

Still…I never thought I’d actually enjoy college of all things.  Maybe it’s because I’ve had to work so damn hard to get here.  Oh, my grades were never that bad, but racing every weekend--sometimes more than once--and cutting class to rebuild your engine for Friday night’s main event wasn’t exactly conducive to making the honor roll. 

But I had to try.

I had to find out if I stood a chance.  Besides, were it not for racing I’d never have saved up enough to even pay for college.  I’m still barely scraping by, but thankfully my mechanic skills have paid off.  They’ve got me through junior college, into a real university and…out of Bakersfield.  And there’s no way I could have stayed there another day.  Not when I felt like such a loser for not making the “big time.”

I still don’t know if I’ll ever fit in here.  Not really.  People here don’t really know who I am.  They have no idea that Kevin Harvick used to dream of being a hot shot NASCAR driver.  No, to them I’m just another student, sitting in class and listening to teachers spew on about what some dead guy said eons ago and how influential he must have been to someone somewhere. 

That’s the only part I hate.  Don’t tell me what I’m supposed to think.  Don’t tell be that I’m supposed to think something is good just because someone else said so.  Oh, I like history.  I like to see the accomplishments and architectural marvels that have come before me.  I just don’t want to be spoon fed all the other random crap that apparently makes a “well rounded” education.  I’m just glad I got most of that crap over in Bakersfield JC.  At least now maybe I can focus on what I want to do…at least, what I want to do now.

Glance at the schedule sheet in my hand and check once more for my room assignment.  God, I hope I don’t get stuck with some stupid kid fresh out of high school.  I’ll probably end up smothering him in his sleep.  Fuck, if I get some stupid kid begging me to buy him beer….  Shake my head as I glance over the paperwork again.  No, they told me they would try to find me an appropriate “roommate.” 

Run my fingers through my hair and stare at the door at the end of the hall.  329.  This should be it.  I didn’t have a chance to find an apartment when I came out here and I probably couldn’t have afforded it anyway.  Not on my own at least.  No, I figured if I was gonna do college life I might as well do it all the way, dorm and all.

Reach into my pocket and pull out my “assigned” key and slide it into the lock.  Pause for a moment, considering knocking but if this is supposed to be my room too…why bother?  Open the door and take a breath, ready to meet my fate for the next year but…it’s empty.  No, the only thing that lets me know I’ve been beaten here at all is the over stuffed Adidas bag on the lower bunk with peeling Washington Redskin’s stickers on it. 

Skins?  In California?  He’s got to be from the east.  Dump my bag on the floor and gaze up at the top bunk.  I guess that’s mine now.  Walk over and grab the end of the bed and pull myself up, bypassing the ladder and crawling onto the small mattress.  Roll over onto my back and put my hands behind my head as I stare at the too close ceiling.

I wonder if he knows about racing.  I wonder if he cares.  But either way…I can’t be that “Harvick” here.  Turn my head and look around the small room.  I didn’t bring a damn thing that reveals the other part of my life.  I keep my coveralls at the garage and as long as I clean up after work…so one has to know I’m still a grease monkey…and no one will know the life I’m giving up.  I didn’t even bring a single trophy, checkered flag or anything.  It’s time for a new start.

I just wonder who I’m going to be sharing it with.

These authors spend lots of time to write these stories. If you took the time to read this PLEASE take the time to give them some feedback. Happy writers write more ;-)

Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com