Author's Note:

Happy belated Valentine's day! Sorry I couldn't get this chapter out for yesterday but I was struggling to come up with ideas. Hopefully it turned out halfway decent at the least. Enjoy!

Living a Loud Life

Chapter 11: Slow and Steady

The marvels of modern engineering surrounded Clyde, a gathering for auto junkies. Kids ran around army vehicles, teenagers lounged on convertibles, and men and women talked around motorcycles. It was nice to him, an occasion that he'd like to return to in the future one day. Presently though, Clyde was looking for one junkie in particular, a certain blonde who was furiously writing her name down on a wall posted sign-up sheet.

"Stupid Bloomington, I'll show him. He has no idea who he's messing with."

"I see you're not backing down."

Lana gave him a quizzical sidelong glance. "Do I seem the type too?"

"Not at all. But you may wanna calm down before getting behind the wheel. Your signature looks like scribbles."

In mockery, Lana hurriedly filled in the rest of the form's lines and inserted the paper into a submission box.

"I'd say that's an effective signature. And I don't need to calm down. The rage fuels me. That pompous dick can't even fathom someone beating him. It'll be 10x more cathartic when it's me with the gold."

"He's the type of person who doesn't even leave his bubble to go to the bathroom. It's not hard to see how blind he can be to real competition." Clyde suggested.

Crackling her knuckles, Lana shot him a serious look. "You know what really pisses me off? He thinks just because he has a fancy car that he's a shoo-in. It takes more than a machine right off the assembly line to get things done. My baby's customized, tinkered with by these very hands."

"Hands I will never ask where they've been."

Lana stuck her tongue out teasingly.

"As I was saying, I put more work into my truck than that chump's done his entire life. You'll see, I'll rip that road to shreds!"

"Well before you do that, how about taking one more stroll around here? Lola is almost assuredly going to drag us out of this place the second the race is done."

"Well, you do have a point there. Plus, I didn't get to see the monster truck section."

"After you, my good sir."

"Why thank you, sir."

And stroll the two did. Without Lola groaning or making snide remarks, Lana was fully able to immerse herself as a car hobbyist. She explained every little detail she could as Clyde was more than open to listening. She didn't know, but half of the stuff she was saying went in one ear and out the other for him. He didn't mind though. A week of cramming in info handed to you on short notice tended to wear a person's thinking cap out. Instead, Clyde paid attention to Lana herself, and all her enthusiasm. From the way her eyes lit up like sparklers when talking about the ingenuity of the engineering to the many gestures her hands did in describing it all, Clyde was fascinated with her as she was with the show.

What Clyde failed to notice however, was sneaky stares his companion was giving him.

Yet as all good things must end, so did their walk together as the racers were beginning to get ready

"We'll be cheering you on from the stands." Clyde pointed out a spot on the bleachers where Lola was seated, filing her nails. "Well, I'll be cheering at least."

"Thanks, my man. Glad I can count on someone to have my back."

"My man? God, kill me now." Lana beat herself up in her head.

"Lana!" The two turned their heads to their golden-haired roommate in the seats. "Don't come back unless you're bringing home the gold."

"Thanks for the pep talk, sis."

Lana gave a two-finger salute and took off. Eyes lingering for a few seconds, Clyde turned away and made his way up the bleacher stairs. True to her word, Lola had saved a seat for him, albeit a small, barely breathable space at the end of the row.

"What? No thanks?"

"You know when you said you save me a spot, I assumed it'd be big enough for more than one leg."

"Toughed up, McBride. If I have to sit among a crowd with a half days' worth of sweat built up, the least you can do is take the smaller seat as a gentleman."

"But there were other places we both could've sat comfortably!" Clyde complained.

"Yes, but this one was the first I saw."

Clyde's groans were ignored as Lola studied her reflection in a compact mirror.

"I don't know if I'll ever win with you."

"He won't beat me."

That's what Lana had been repeating in her head for the past few minutes. It was short of being a mantra, but it was something she could hold on to. Truth be told, she was nervous. Aside from a few late-night joyrides, she'd never been in a legitimate race before. Call it cliché, but she always saw herself as the woman behind the scenes, making sure everything was a well-oiled machine. Competing was more her sisters' thing. Lola did pageants, Luan talent shows, Luna rock contests, and Lynn, well, every sport under the sun. Her though? Unless you counted fighting with Lola, she wasn't one for these kinds of things.

But that rich pig-headed brat claiming he's the best? With the car she worked on? That ignited a torch in her heart to smoke the competition and shove the winning trophy in his conceited face.

A total of five cars were lined up, side by side on a newly paved road. The strip led in a straight line about a thousand yards flanked by the stands on one side and a field of freshly cut turf on the other.

"You still have time to turn back, Loud. There's no shame in being a scared little girl."

"Really? Cause I'd be pretty ashamed if I were you."

"Why you little-"

"Folks! Welcome to the 3rd annual Midtown Race!" A heavy southern accent was be broadcast from a table all the way down at the finish line. A man dressed in an all-white rancher's outfit, topped with a ten-gallon hat could barely be seen where Lola and Clyde were currently situated. A brunette woman, dressed in daisy dukes, cowgirl boots, and a rolled-up flannel, waltzed in front of the racers with a racing flag in hand.

"Please be advised that we are not liable for any injuries the participants acquire."

Raising his brows, Clyde shifted his head towards Lola.

"Uh…is this legal?"

"Eh."

"Good talk."

"The rules are simple. First one to make it across the finish line wins the grand cash prize and gold trophy! There are no other winners! Any false start, and you're disqualified!"

"Your ass is grass." Bloomington spat through gritted teeth.

"On your marks."

The racers diverted their attention to road ahead.

"Set."

The revving of engines filled the atmosphere.

"Go!"

The flag was waved, and the cars roared to life. A red mustang driven by a tattooed, mohawk wearing man pulled out in front of the pack. But for its acceleration, it sacrificed top speed and soon the 5 other racers zoomed right past it. Not long afterwards, a heavy-duty land cruiser that had been trucking right alongside everyone else suddenly sputtered and dropped back, having apparently burnt out its engine.

Three vehicles remained neck and neck on the strip. One the competitors, a lime green jeep piloted by a frat boy in a tank-top, shorts, and aviators, began pulling out in front of the others. Unfortunately for him, he didn't realize that the two other racers hadn't even come close to showing their limits. What was like a second wind struck the two automobiles and the frat bro was left in the dust.

It was down to the wire now. Two racers. Two speeding machines. One winner at the end of it all.

Bloomington floored it and took off cackling, giving an image reminiscent of Dick Dastardly. Of course, Lana wasn't about to let him win, Wacky Race or not.

"Looks like that death trap of hers ran out of juice! The win is mine for the taking."

Unbeknownst to Bloomington however, Lana rode in wait.

"That's right, jerkwad. Get real comfortable in there."

Despite the gap that formed, she was far from being out of the competition. Rather she was biding her time, the very seconds that passed with every foot their cars traveled. You see, Lana knew his car, front and back. She familiarized herself with every vehicle she worked on, whether or not she was fixing all or parts of them. One thing in particular she knew was that exact duration this model of car could maintain top speed before a manufacturing glitch slowed down the car a bit. It was a window of opportunity, and Lana wasn't about to waste it.

In a split second, Lana shifted her baby's gears and stomped the gas pedal. Like a bullet from the chamber, the two ton truck shot forward at full throttle. Suddenly seeing his incoming rival, Bloomington tried to speed up, but to no avail. His ride has already begun losing speed as Lana's was gaining it. To this day, Bloomington swears that as he was being passed, Lana gave him the finger.

The pickup truck crossed the checkered finish line, and the stands erupted into cheers.

"That's it, folks! The winner is racer #3, Lana Loud!"

"She did it!"

"Hmph. I knew she would."

By the time the two had made it down from the stands, the announcer was already handing Lana a brilliant trophy and check on a stage. The crowd that had gathered clapped in celebration and the young mechanic gave a curt bow to the applause. As she stepped down from the stage though, she was met with a bewildered yet equally furious Mack Bloomington, failing to grasp the outcome of the race.

"But you were- and I was- but how did you- HOW COULD YOU BEAT ME?!"

"I don't know. I guess unlike you, I take car in making no mistakes."

"You dare use my own words against me?!"

"Hey, you're the one who thought you could win on the car I worked on. Maybe you should invest in better ideas."

Bloomington was left agape as the champion walked over to meet her roomies.

"Lana! That was unbelievable! Those last few seconds where you were- and then you went whoosh and just- man, I can't even describe it!"

Lana bashfully played off the praise while pocketing the check. "Aw, shucks. It was nothing special."

"Nothing special? Nothing special?! That was the textbook definition of special! That was out of this world awesome!"

One person was less than impressed, though. "Leave it to the boy to freak out over cars going zoom."

"Lola."

"Lana."

What Clyde could only comprehend as a silent conversation was held by the twins as the two gazed at each other. Suddenly, Lola broke the moment.

"Nice work out there." The aforementioned sister gave a light grin.

"Thanks."

A smile of her own, graced Lana's mouth. "And thanks to you too, dude."

"Oh don't worry abou-"

A set of arms wrapped around Clyde's midsection and the words in his mouth died with the heat that rushed to his face.

Burying her face into his chest, Lana spoke, her cheeks flushed rose. "It's really nice to know you guys were looking out for me."

"Y-yeah."

Fake gagging broke the spell between the two, and they were left with a Lola Loud that was clearly done with the place.

"Alright, already. Enough of that mushy stuff. You guys did your little thing, now it's time we do mine. First things first, you two are getting out of those clothes."

"Uh, WHAT?"

"Don't let your mind go the gutter, McBride. This is purely a formal matter. We're getting you out of the trash you're wearing into something more club appropriate."

"I swear, Lola if you stick me in one of your strips of cloth that barely passes as a dress, I'm gonna-"

"Chill out, Lana. Have a little faith in me. I'm a beauty queen. Do you honestly think I'd let you down when it comes to this? Come on, don't you trust me?" Lola spoke, while batting her eyes.

Unsurprisingly, her two roommates did not, in fact, trust her.

And for good reason.