Hey again. I didn't get the turn out I had hoped for, but as I look back on the teaser, it doesn't really explain much of anything. Let's try this again haha….
Spencer:
"As we know, my daughter, Melissa passed away at the tender age of thirteen. She bravely fought against cancer." my mother paused for emphasis. "As a family, we have our annual fundraiser to raise awareness for our precious little girl that we lost. My other daughter, Spencer wants to say a few words on her late sister's behalf. Without further ado, Spencer!" she beckoned me on stage.
I was frozen in my seat, waiting for someone or something to save me. Luckily, Jason came to my rescue, lightly shoving me from behind. I rose on shaky legs, and shuffled up the stairs to stand next to my mother. She smiled widely, tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered before walking away. With that, I was alone, staring at my feet.
It's ok Spencer, just say that you miss her and wish she were still here. I gained confidence and looked up. Bad idea. I was panicking. My stomach rumbled angrily, threatening to explode all over the stage. "Melissa was a bright light in this," *choke*, "dark world." *cough,* "we all miss her dearly, and I wish," *sputter,* I had gotten more time with, *gag,* "my perfect, sister." almost done. "To Melissa!" Thank god it was over. I walked off stage, trying to dodge everyone around me. My mother approached, but I couldn't stay; my breakfast was coming back up to greet me.
I ducked inside the bathroom, my knees buckling at the toilet. I gagged, furious tremors shaking my body. I retched into the toilet, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. I rested my face against the cold, metal bar next to the toilet so I could catch my breath. After about four minutes of sitting there, a soft knock sounded on the door.
"Spence, let me in." Jason. I crawled to the door, my poofy dress dragging after me. After I turned the lock, Jason came in, sitting beside me and relocking the door. "You said it had gotten better."
"I said there was no more blood." I corrected him. He rubbed his temples angrily.
"You need help. We don't want a repeat of last time…." he trailed off, forcing me to remember when it all started.
When I was in sixth grade, I was diagnosed with severe social anxiety. I wasn't able to eat lunch in the lunch room, I wasn't able to do speeches, I wasn't able to speak in class. Each time I tried resulted in an awful panic attack. The panic attack worsened; I started throwing up. Even that worsened; I started coughing up blood. At that point, I was hospitalized.
My mother was hysterical; it was almost as though Melissa had died again. Her daughter meant to replace Melissa was causing her grief too. She sat by my side though, waiting for me to get better. I saw the pain in her eyes as she looked down on me.
After I had gotten out of the hospital, and had convinced everyone that I was magically cured, my family started to forget about the whole fiasco. Everyone except for Jason that is. He still watched over me; beating up guys who made fun of me, not dating girls who gossiped about me, and watching my every move closely.
"Can you cover for me?" I asked hopefully. I wasn't made for the froo-froo party stuff; Melissa was. I'd rather be arms deep in axle grease fixing up my baby.
"Where do you want to go?" He asked, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Driving," I said forcefully.
"Be back by midnight," he laughed, pulling me to my feet. I grabbed at my dress, realizing how hard it would be to drive my pony wearing it. He watched intently before explaining that he'd left a change of clothes on the passenger's seat. I kissed his cheek, and rushed out of the bathroom, feeling much calmer as I approached my car. As soon as I'd changed, I lowered myself into the driver's seat, and my baby roared to life.
After driving for about an hour, I pulled into a Shell gas-station. I noticed two college aged guys standing next to a Dodge Challenger ogling my car.
"Is that a '05 GT Mustang?" the taller one of the two questioned.
"Yep," I said not looking at them.
"What engine?" The shorter one asked.
"V-8," I turned the nozzle for the gas, and started pumping.
"You know there's a street race just a few miles up the road, I think you'd have a good chance of winning with that," he said motioning to my pony.
"I'll check it out," the gas pump released, and I climbed back in.
"Follow us." and I did just that. I followed the two guys to an industrial area with an impressive lineup of muscle cars. I parked next to another mustang, and stepped out of my car.
Toby:
I stood there, collecting bids for a street race. A white pony pulled up, parking next to my own black mustang. I waited for a conceded college brat to step out. Instead of a college brat, an angel stepped out. A dark haired, pale angel dressed in designer jeans and a khaki colored blazer.
She approached me, slapping a fifty dollar bill in my palm. "The white mustang," the angel mumbled.
"You don't belong here, leave," I warned her.
"I wanna race," she fired back.
"Go back to your gated community," I said harshly.
"Not a chance." Hearing this, my boss, Noel Kahn turned around.
"Come on, Toby, let the princess race her pretty little mustang." He rolled his eyes, taking the fifty out of my hand. She glanced at him, flashing her big brown eyes to me. She really was an angel. "I want you to race her, mustang against mustang."
"No, Noel, she's not experienced." I said through clenched teeth. I wanted to protect this strange angelic girl.
"No buts, Toby. Do it now!" He barked at me and motioned towards my car. "Pull up to the white line, Princess."
"It's Spencer," she muttered under her breath, walking back to her car. Her hips swayed as she walked.
The engines purred at the line; at a shake of Noel's hand, I slammed on the gas. Of course I won; I was much more experienced with the whole thing. We both pulled back to the starting point, and once again, the angel; Spencer I corrected myself, got out of the car.
"You had your fun, now leave." I demanded.
"I want to stay and watch!" Spencer argued back. What a strong headed girl she was.
Spencer:
The guy, Toby, was rude. He continuously barked orders at me, demanding me to leave. After the race, I would've left if he hadn't told me to. Something about him pissed me off, but at the same time, I was entirely attracted to him.
He was tall, with sparkling blue eyes, and light brown hair. He was dressed in a black short sleeved shirt despite the fact that it was fifty degrees. I could see the edge of a black tattoo on his upper arm. I wondered what it was. He was so different then me; wild and rugged. Nothing like the designer rich princess I was.
I stood by my car after the race with him, watching the other racers win and lose. I leaned back against the pony, taking another glance at the odd stranger named Toby. He had his arms folded across his chest, and an angry scowl on his face.
I rolled my eyes. Who peed in his cheerios? What a total ass- My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of wailing sirens approaching the alley.
"POLICE!" one of the racers screamed.
"Who ratted?" Noel shouted, jumping up and grabbing the money. He quickly darted towards a tricked out car. The car fishtailed away.
Stunned and unsure of what to do, I stood there frozen. I was in so much trouble. I was going to be arrested, I was going to lose my car, and most of all, I was going to disappoint my entire family.
"Follow me," the guy Toby slid into his car, I followed suite. He stepped on his gas, speeding down another alley. I followed his every move closely and carefully, pushing my baby up to 90 miles per hour. I was worried I was going to scratch her.
The sirens followed us, screeching that we were in trouble. Toby's brake lights went on, and he stepped out.
"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded as he approached my window.
"I'm out of gas." He looked scared. "Get on the freeway, and don't look back."
"I can't just leave you here!" I said, entirely shocked.
"I can take care of myself."
"Stop being dramatic, and get in!" I reached over and threw open the passenger door.
"I'm driving." He said opening my door.
"No one drives my car." I frowned.
"Do you want to be caught?" With that, I climbed over the console and got in the passenger seat. He stepped on the gas just as the police reached us.
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