This first chapter was written by F AL SE Gamaliel. You can go on her profile to see the original story. This has been adopted by the-academy-isn't, but is beta'd by F AL SE Gamaliel. Thanks!
AU. Everything was fine for Sarah, in the beginning. She had great parents – pigheaded sometimes, but still – and a good amount of money for film school. She had her best friend, Ryan (who her parents were VERY pigheaded about) who worked at a mechanic shop his dad owned. And then it happened. Skull Creek, Victoria, Australia was supposed to be a boring, normal town. It wasn't.
It was so easy to get caught up in the heat of Australia, that it was almost suffocating. She hated going outside of her house in the summer, because she hated the feeling the humid air gave her. It was hard to explain, but the way it clung to your skin, invaded your nose, was almost too much for her.
So, on days like these, she would stay in the house, with her air conditioning on high, a fan, in a tank top and pajama shorts. But not today – oh, no, today she was venturing out into the heat. A rare occurrence, if anyone in town was asked. But she was on a mission.
Her mission? To give Ryan McCray, head mechanic of McCray Auto, a piece of her mind. Today was his birthday, and he hadn't answered a single one of her phone calls. She understood that the stubborn mule didn't like his birthday – even if he was turning 18, a year older than her – but he should know that after 8 years there was no escaping her.
And so here she was, brown hair pulled into a pony tail, a yellow tank top with matching flip-flops, a pair of jean shorts that were as small as could be without showing too much, and wide sun glasses to cover her eyes. She could feel the hairs to short to fit into her pony tail, and had escaped their bobby pin, sticking to the back of her neck with sweat.
She scrunched her nose, making a mental note to take a shower as soon as she got home. Maybe if she was lucky, Mrs. McCray would let her take a shower in the small apartment they had built above the auto shop. She had done it enough, and Ryan had a whole drawer dedicated to her clothes. She had no idea how many times they'd come back from fishing, or swimming in the creek, or just walking around, and had ended up with her staying on a fold out cot in the living room. She normally stole a shirt and some boxers from Ryan to sleep in, and had a drawer full of them at her house – all promised to return after being washed, but never were.
She was getting closer now, she could here Steven Tyler's (It) Feels So Good blaring from the old beaten radio Mr. McCray was dead set on keeping, claiming that it still had some life in it yet. She liked to think that it was on it's death bed, and had stored a brand new radio in the back of Ryan's 1967 Mercury Cougar, dubbed Beauty.
She was anything but, with rusting powder blue paint, cracked leather seats, and a cracked window. But Ryan was dead set on her. She was beginning to think that the McCray men had a thing for pieces of junk.
She could see the the white and blue building now, with 'McCray' written in cursive letters, and the 'Auto' written in all capital bold letters. Normally, she would have shouted out to Ryan, to let the strawberry blonde now that she was there, but she wasn't going to do that today.
One, because she wanted to surprise him, and two, because he would have a chance to run if he knew she was on her way. It wasn't often that she got to see him anymore, because her parents were starting to get agitated with all the time they spent together. It had been fine when they were 11 and 12, tolerable when they were 15 and 16. They had finally put their foot down when she turned 17, saying she shouldn't waste her time on some "backwoods boy who wasn't going anywhere."
Her parents had a lot of money, her dad being a doctor and her mom a lawyer. They had moved to the small town when she was 8, a charity thing because they hospital needed a heart surgeon, and her father had been curious about country living. She, on the other hand, had been attached to Sydney, not wanting to leave the sandy beach and her ballet classes. She quite loved Cesar salad with caviar, thank you very much.
That all changed once Ryan got a hold of her, and whisked her off into the beautiful country, teaching her how to spit, wrestle, and punch like the best of them. And then she had tried Mrs. McCray's fried chicken, mashed potatoes with brown gravy. Who needed baby fish eggs when there was deep fried chicken waiting on the table? Her mom refused to fry anything, of course, claiming it to be too greasy and fattening.
She slipped of her flip flops, tip toeing her way across the gray slab of the garage, creeping up behind Ryan, who was completely oblivious. Fitz, another mechanic, caught sight of her and ducked his head, hiding his grin. Tom, who was the clerk, openly grinned, because this had been a tradition since Ryan had started working at age 15. Absently, she noticed that Ryan was fixing Gladys Morgan's (the librarian) car.
Stopping about an inch away from her target, she took a deep, quiet breath, before shouting, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RYAN!"
The sound of a dropped wrench, a startled yelp, and two bellows of laughter greeted her exclamation. Ryan spun around, brown eyes wide, mouth slightly open. "Jesus Christ, Sarah, do you have to do this every year?"
"Only until you stop ignoring my calls, McCray," she replied, crossing her arms and raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Country girl or not, she wasn't about to walk around with fuzzy brows.
He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck with a small smile she found endearing. "Sorry 'bout that, City, I guess I just... didn't hear?" the last part was posed as a question and obviously a lie, but she let it pass – like she did every year – when he used his nickname for her. He had started calling her 'City' when she had shown up to school in flats and a pink dress, her hair tied up in a ribbon. She had kicked him in the shins, but the boy was persistent. She had finally allowed after he shared his lunch with her – her mother had forgotten to make because she was on a 'big case' and needed time to sleep; 'I can't always do these things for you, Sarah.'
"Yeah, yeah, you say that every year, you stupid hick," the words had no venom, more affection than anything, but she had to say it for the sake of saying it. "You can make it up to me tonight. We're going to that cafe down Main St. and then swimming. I'm crashing at your place, because you're mom always make pancakes in the morning when I do. I rented a couple of movies, so we should be good."
They did the same thing every year (for both their birthdays) and their parents had excepted that yes, Sarah was spending the night with Ryan, and yes, they normally fell asleep on each other, and no, they couldn't do anything to stop it.
"Sounds good, doll face. We inviting anyone?"
"It's your birthday, McCray, who are you inviting?"
"No one," he said, leaning against the grill of the car, "It'll just be the two of us, like normal." She smiled at that, nodding her head yes. They had invited people once – Fitz and Laney, and it had been terrible. The two had an on and off relationship, had just gotten back together, and had done the frisky... int the water, leaving Ryan and Sarah in a very awkward situation. Needless to say, they had been a jumbling, blushing, mass of teenage meat when they arrived at Ryan's house.
She sat down on the rolling stool, lifting her glasses off her face – moving her bangs out of the way in the same motion – looking at the pink car Ryan had been fixing before she int interrupted. "So, what's from with it now?"
"A/C broke, sucked up a plastic bag or something, I have to dig it out."
"Then why do you have a wrench," she asked, looking at him like he was stupid.
"... it makes me feel important ..."
