"Alright, settle down class," the teacher at the front of the room said. Shiloh Warner removed her earbuds. The teacher waited as all the other teens in the class settled down.

"For your midterm, I'm going to have all of you interview a local celebrity. Afterward, you will write a two thousand word paper on them. I will allow you to choose the topic on which you write. It can be about their success, how they achieved it, what they think of it, how you believe it's affected them, anything.

The short girl in the back of the class barely managed to suppress a groan as the rest of the class began to grow excited. "BUT," the teacher called over the din. "I'm going to be picking the celebrity you interview myself." The room filled with the disappointed acclamations of the class. Shiloh raised an eyebrow, unamused at the actions of her peers.

"Yes, I know. I'm so cruel," the teacher said, his tone caustically sarcastic. "Come up and I'll assign you your celebrities." The class began to file forward as the various teenagers whispered in excitement. Each was handed a packet, assumed to contain the name and contact information of each student's celebrity. The room grew gradually louder, those who had received their packets gushing with their friends about how lucky they were and the unlucky ones groaning and mourning their lot. Shiloh shuffled forward with the rest of them, receiving her packet last.

"Ah, you have an interesting one, Ms. Warner," he said. Great, Shiloh thought, taking the packet before she walked back to her seat. Please don't it let it be the mayor, she silently begged as she opened the manila envelope.

Shiloh reached her hand inside and pulled out the slip of paper. Turning it right side up she groaned. Rex Racer was typed at the top. I take it back, Shiloh thought, dropping her head on her desk. The mayor is fine.

She sighed, raising her head as class began. It was the last class of the day, so when the bell rang Shiloh was one of the first people out the door. I can't believe I have to interview Rex Racer, she mentally complained, dropping her various things in the dilapidated locker she called hers, before walking down the halls to the exit.

Everyone in the whole school, no, the whole town, was obsessed with racing, and yet, Shiloh didn't enjoy racing at all. It made no sense to her. She couldn't understand why anyone would want to make racing their life's work, minus the fact that it paid quite a lot.

Maybe that's what I can make the essay about, she thought as she reached the exit. What is it about racing that appeals to people and why would someone want to make it their life's work? She smiled.

Well, that part was easy, Shiloh thought as she climbed aboard the bus. Hopefully, the rest of it won't be too hard. She knew better than to get her hopes up though. Things were never that easy.

She dropped into her seat before pulling the piece of paper out of the envelope again, checking the address. It was about two miles from where she lived, amazingly. I'll go by there tomorrow, She thought.

Shiloh hated calling random strangers and answering calls from them. She had to do it way too frequently at work and, therefore, avoided it like the plague whenever she could. She'd much rather just do it in person.

Guess I'll do that tomorrow, she thought, leaning her head back against the seat and closing her eyes. She had another long night of work ahead of her, so she decided to try to get a few winks. Life as a high school orphan with a job at Pizza Hut, she thought, a sardonic smirk on her face. Doesn't get much better than this.

A/N: I went through and edited this whole chapter so let me know what you think.