AN/EDIT: Chapters 3-5 are currently in the process of being revised.
Disclaimer: I own Shiloh, Seth, Marc, and Lily. All others belong to Hasbro.
"Hâ`awi mai ia!" shouted a teenager with blue-streaked black hair, green eyes, and very dark tan skin. He chased after a girl his age who had a striking resemblance to him, except her eyes were chocolate and her boyishly short hair was dark brown.
The girl fought back laughter as she yelled back, "'A'ole!" and ducked behind a large wheel-mounted toolbox. She took a switchblade from her pocket, showing it off to the boy.
"Hâ`awi!" He ran around the toolbox and tackled her to the concrete floor. The girl dropped the switchblade in surprise.
"'Ole!" She could barely keep from laughing as she landed on her stomach, her head bouncing off the floor. "Ow."
The boy held tightly while she tried to get up. "Give it back, Shiloh."
"I don't have it anymore, Seth; you made me drop it."
Both of them looked up at the same time, locating the switchblade. It had skittered across the floor after being dropped. Seth let go of his cousin and scrambled for the knife, only for Shiloh to reach it first. But before she could grab it, a dark boot came down on top of it. "Ahem." A tall man, who almost resembled an older version of Seth without the blue in his hair, glared down at the two teens on the floor. Shiloh offered a guilty grin. Seth stopped what he was doing and laughed nervously.
"Aloha, Uncle Marc," Shiloh said quietly.
"Hi, Dad," said Seth.
Marc lifted his boot off the switchblade and picked it up. "What have I told you both about taking these out unless you really need them?"
Seth rose to his feet, gesturing to Shiloh, who also began to get up. "She stole it from me!" he objected. "She has her own. I don't get why she takes mine all the time."
"Maybe because it's so much fun to watch your reaction?" Shiloh rubbed her forehead where it had hit the concrete floor. "Dammit, Seth, that hurt."
Sighing, Marc shoved the switchblade in his pocket. At his son's indignant "Hey!" he snapped, "Customers, Seth. They're not here to wait while you fight with your cousin. Now get out front and do your job. Same for you, Shiloh."
"Yes, sir," both teenagers mumbled. Seth punched Shiloh in the shoulder on his way past. In reply, she kicked his knee. They exchanged glares.
Marc pinched the bridge of his nose. As much as the two cousins fought, one would think they hated each other. But the opposite was true - anyone who insulted or hurt Shiloh would soon find themselves confronted with a very angry Seth, and vice-versa. "Forgetting something?" he called as Shiloh started to head toward the front of the shop after Seth. The teenage girl huffed angrily, but walked back and handed off a switchblade similar to the first one.
Up front, a familiar face waited for the two cousins. Vince rose when he saw Seth approaching. He proffered the palm of his hand, which the other boy clapped in greeting. "Howzit, Vince?"
"Pretty good." Vince glanced at Shiloh, who was attending to the other customer with an all-too-fake smile on her lips. "What's up with her?"
Seth followed his friend's gaze. "Eh, we got into a scrap and my dad busted us. She'll be fine by tonight."
"She better be, 'cause I'm itching for a good race."
"I can hear you, ya know," came an irritated voice. Shiloh turned away from the other customer, putting her hands on her hips. The customer behind her cleared his throat. "Sorry."
Seth shook his head, turning back to Vince. "So, what's wrong with your car?"
Vince motioned for his friend to follow him outside. "I'll show you." The two boys went out to a black sports car with flames painted on.
Seth popped the hood and inspected the engine. "I don't see anything wrong." Then he leaned closer and said, "Ah, now I do. One of the pipes is cracked. Shouldn't take too long to fix. Bring it around and I'll get on it." As Vince did as instructed, Seth walked back through the shop and heard Shiloh assessing the other customer's car.
"Nice dent. Get rear-ended? Never mind, it doesn't matter. My uncle's up front; he'll give you the price and the paperwork."
Chuckling, Seth murmured, "You never change, Shy. And I don't want you to." He arrived at the section of the shop with the garage-type door. He opened it, and Vince drove his car inside.
"Will it be able to race tonight?" Vince asked, exiting the car.
"Yeah, just give me twenty minutes." Seth zipped up his coveralls to prevent his shirt from getting dirty while he worked. "All I need to do is drain the fluids from the engine, weld the pipe shut, and problem solved."
Nodding even though he could really care less about what had to be done, Vince found a space of wall without shelves or anything stacked against it and leaned on it. "Better question: are you and Shiloh racing tonight?"
Seth felt an inexplicable apprehension strike him. He hesitated before responding, "We... wouldn't miss it." He grabbed a wrench and started unscrewing the valve cap. "So, I heard about the race between you and Darby a few weeks ago."
"Darby cheated!" Vince exclaimed without warning. "I don't know how, but I know he cheated."
From under the car's hood, Seth made a sound as if to say, "Sure he did." He started draining the fluids out of the engine, careful not to let any splash the ground. "Saw his bike outside of school a couple of times. A real pretty thing, it is. What does it sound like? Does it run well?"
"Ah, it's a just a moped," scoffed Vince.
"You serious? That bike is beautifully built and perfectly streamlined. Don't see many of those in Jasper, that's for sure." Seth got out from under the hood and pointed the wrench at his friend. "I'd love to get my hands on it, if only to take it apart in the end."
Vince was about to snap that it was still a moped when a cry rang out from Shiloh's work area. Both of them dropped what they were doing to run in that direction.
Shiloh was bent over next to the car, her left hand held against her stomach and cradled with her right. Her face was twisted in pain. Seth grabbed her shoulders and helped her to the ground. "Vince, get my dad. Tell him to bring the first-aid kit." Vince nodded and ran off. "What did you do?"
"The bumper was dented, so I removed it. Went to get a hammer to pound it into shape and grabbed a sawblade by accident," Shiloh explained through gritted teeth. "Why is that even in here?"
Marc arrived, Vince on his heels. "Let me see," he ordered. Shiloh shook her head. "Shiloh, let me see or it won't stop hurting." Finally she showed him her hand. "Okay, it's not too bad. Wash it off and I'll bandage it."
"Wash it off?" Shiloh squeaked. "With water? Is that really necessary?"
Seth sighed and said to Vince, "He's got this handled; let's get back to work on your car. We want it to be ready for the Circuit tonight, don't we?"
Shiloh examined both the other racers and their cars, though she was far more interested in the cars than their drivers. She loved older cars. They were just the right blend of power and style.
Which was why it surprised her that she was paying far more attention to the modern Aston Martin as opposed to the far older Thunderbird that was nearby. To be fair, it might have been the Aston Martin's paint job that caught her eye in the first place. Two shades of dark red, silver decals along the sides, and gold in just the right places on the hood and front doors.
Man, that car was beautiful.
Fittingly, the car's driver was just as stylish. He wore a leather jacket over a red shirt and tight black jeans. Several dog tags marked with the same strange symbol on them hung from a chain around his neck. Pale brown eyes darted around, resting for a brief second on the various racers, spectators, and cars in turn. His red hair - Shiloh noted that it was the exact same color as the base of the Aston Martin's paint job - stood up spikily as if gelled. His natural expression seemed to be a self-confident smirk that almost made Shiloh want to punch him.
But she wouldn't punch him. Her hand still hurt from grabbing that sawblade, and besides, she really didn't want to start a fight. Most of the people that came to the races were considered by pretty much everyone in Jasper likely to end up in prison or an insane asylum. They weren't the kind of people to ignore a blow, whether it was physical or to their ego.
Unfortunately, Shiloh found all this out the hard way. Before one of her first races, she made a remark about one of the participant's cars being a beater. As a reminder, she had a scar from the top of her left ear all the way along the cheekbone. From that point on, neither she nor Seth were allowed to leave home without a switchblade or some other type of weapon to use in an emergency.
Startling her out of her thoughts, one of the other racers came up and said, "You feel something off about tonight?"
"You've got pre-race jitters, Lily," Shiloh assured her best friend. "Nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing bad ever happens on the Falcon Crest Route."
"Something's off," Lily insisted. She looked quickly at the Aston Martin's driver and pulled Shiloh off to the side. "It's that guy. He freaks me out. He looks at you half the time, but you don't notice because you're looking at his car."
Shiloh glanced at 'that guy' and laughed softly. "It doesn't bother me. I don't see why it bothers you. He's probably just trying to figure out the competition here. It's obviously his first race."
"No, Shy, it's not." Lily nervously tried to convince her friend to listen. Why did Shiloh have to be so stubborn? "I talked to some of the others, and they've seen him here once before on the night Darby decided to try his hand in the Circuit. Some of them also heard that this guy has raced all across the continent, and he's known for running some guy off a cliff who scratched his paint."
"Trust me," Shiloh said reassuringly, "I won't trade paint with him. That car's just too beautiful to mess up."
"I'm asking you as a friend to be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Racers!" came the shout from the starting line.
Shiloh forgot the answer that had been on the tip of her tongue and ran to her car, her attention entraptured by the impending start to the race. Nearby, Seth, Vince, and the driver of the Aston Martin got into their own vehicles. Lily stayed where she was for a few seconds before dashing to her car.
While everyone was lining up, a yellow Camaro with black racing stripes tore into position next to the Aston Martin. The tinted driver's side window rolled down to allow the driver, a boy in his late teens with blonde hair, a furious glare at the Aston Martin's driver. The latter driver lowered his own window and hissed excitedly, "I was beginning to think you'd never join in the fun." In reply, the blonde teen revved his engine loudly and rolled up his window.
Shiloh suddenly realized why the Aston Martin's driver had made Lily nervous. There was just something about him that set you on edge.
And the Camaro's driver was seriously not helping.
Translations:
Hâ`awi mai ia! - Give me it!
'A'ole! - Never!
Hâ`awi! - Give!
'Ole! - No!