Rachel did not consider herself a 'wild' person, or even slightly
mysterious. She was plain. She obeyed the laws, she was respectful of
everyone, and even gave to the beggars on the street. She didn't smoke,
drink or even have one night stands with men she had just met. She knew
that it was boring, but she never had to deal with any bad consequences, or
surprising situations. She knew what she could expect, and liked to know
that she had order in her life.
So how in the hell had her best friend managed to scam her into going to this stupid car race? She pulled at the hem of the too short tank Marci had given to her. The shirt was only one of her problems. The jeans that Marci had thrown at her were so low, she dared not sit down for fear that someone would see her underwear. Besides, they were so tight, Rachel was finding it hard to breath comfortably. She mentally kicked herself for letting Marci talk her into going. When she had finally agreed, for lack of anything better to do on a Saturday, Marci had next surprised her with the outfit she had planned for her. Rachel would have been more than comfortable in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but no, Marci had other plans. Rachel could only assume that somehow she had been drugged and that was why she had agreed to this. There was simply no other explanation.
Now she stood amongst a sea of cars that cost more than the mortgage on her house, and people walking around, checking out the "competitions" cars. Rachel coughed, and batted away dust that had been kicked up from a passerby. She could only imagine how much dirt she had inhaled. She wondered if it was possible to drown from too much dirt being inhaled into the lungs.
Rachel looked over at her friend and saw her chatting with a guy. Naturally. Marci was laughing at something he had said, and lightly hit him in the arm. Rachel rolled her eyes, and looked around. To her, there was nothing all that spectacular about racing. There were these flashy cars that people seemed more interested in polishing and showing off, than racing. There were hordes of girls, and that was exactly what they all looked like to Rachel, that was standing around in ridiculously skimpy clothing. Thanks to Marci's help, Rachel now looked like one of those girls. Rachel vowed that she would get even with Marci, if it was the last thing she did.
Looking down at the ground, she kicked at a stone with her own black boots. Marci had, thankfully, let Rachel wear, saying they were one of the few things she owned that were cool. Rachel didn't care if they were cool or not, she liked them. The Doc Martens were an expensive indulgence. The stone skidded across the ground, and then hit the tire of a car not to far away. Rachel cringed, and then turned, hoping the owner had not seen her kick the stone.
Rachel jammed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a rubber band. She had actually liked the way that Marci had managed to straighten her super curly hair, but she was tired of brushing it off her face. Grabbing her black hair, she secured it into the rubber band.
"Rachel, come one. Let's go watch a couple of races." Marci called to her. She pointed down the way to an area where cars were lining up to race. Marci had given Rachel a run down of the basics. Drivers negotiated a price. Two cars raced, and the winner won the cash. Rachel had assumed racing cars was illegal, having seen reports of the said event on the news almost every other night, but Marci explained to her that these were legal races, called Race Wars, held once a month in a safe environment, with medical personal ready, in case the worst should happen. It was a celebrated event. Food vendors lined the walk way to the spectator section, and there were even shirts and other items being sold, as well.
As Rachel started to head towards Marci, her arm was grabbed, and she was turned around. Rachel let out a little squeak of surprise.
"You know. You kicked that stone and it hit my car. Maybe you should be careful."
Rachel stared back at the most handsome man that she had ever seen. She just stared back at him. She seemed to have lost motor skills because she couldn't talk.
"Uh.Uh." Was all that Rachel could get out. Her arm was still being held by his. She looked down at it. He released her arm, and put his hand in his pocket.
"Listen, just saying. If it was anyone else, they would have been all over your ass, and it would not have been in a nice way." He said. Rachel looked at him. The innuendo pierced through her clouded her brain, and gasping her took a step back.
He may have been gorgeous with his brown hair that he had combed away from his face, and the raspy voice was sexy, but Rachel was not impressed so far by his mannerisms.
She muttered an apology and then turned to leave.
"Hey wait." He called, taking off after her. Rachel frowned, and tried to walk faster, but he caught up with her anyway.
"Hey. Slow down, baby. I was hoping that we could talk." He said walking next to her. Rachel cast him a look as if he was crazy.
"You are kidding, right?" Rachel asked, stopping suddenly. He stopped and turned to face her.
"No." He said. Rachel couldn't believe her luck. She was hoping to get through this day without anyone hitting on her. Basically, she had been hoping to just get through the day, and get home, back to normalcy.
"Why? I mean, what could we possibly talk about?" Rachel asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"Well. You. Me. The weather? Your favorite sports team? I haven't seen you around here before. I saw you get here with Marci, but I have never seen you here with her before." He said, casting a look over at Marci who was still talking with the guy she had met earlier.
Rachel pursed her lips. She knew that this guy was more than likely looking to score, but he seemed nice enough to at least talk to, and stand around trying to look interested.
"Uh, yeah, Marci and I are friends. She forced me to come with her today. Uh.my name's Rachel." She said. She stuck out her hand, which he in turn shook. He smiled at her.
"My name's Leon. Come on. I will show you around." He said, her hand still held by his. Rachel couldn't explain why she didn't yank her hand away from him, but something about him seemed to draw her.
So how in the hell had her best friend managed to scam her into going to this stupid car race? She pulled at the hem of the too short tank Marci had given to her. The shirt was only one of her problems. The jeans that Marci had thrown at her were so low, she dared not sit down for fear that someone would see her underwear. Besides, they were so tight, Rachel was finding it hard to breath comfortably. She mentally kicked herself for letting Marci talk her into going. When she had finally agreed, for lack of anything better to do on a Saturday, Marci had next surprised her with the outfit she had planned for her. Rachel would have been more than comfortable in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but no, Marci had other plans. Rachel could only assume that somehow she had been drugged and that was why she had agreed to this. There was simply no other explanation.
Now she stood amongst a sea of cars that cost more than the mortgage on her house, and people walking around, checking out the "competitions" cars. Rachel coughed, and batted away dust that had been kicked up from a passerby. She could only imagine how much dirt she had inhaled. She wondered if it was possible to drown from too much dirt being inhaled into the lungs.
Rachel looked over at her friend and saw her chatting with a guy. Naturally. Marci was laughing at something he had said, and lightly hit him in the arm. Rachel rolled her eyes, and looked around. To her, there was nothing all that spectacular about racing. There were these flashy cars that people seemed more interested in polishing and showing off, than racing. There were hordes of girls, and that was exactly what they all looked like to Rachel, that was standing around in ridiculously skimpy clothing. Thanks to Marci's help, Rachel now looked like one of those girls. Rachel vowed that she would get even with Marci, if it was the last thing she did.
Looking down at the ground, she kicked at a stone with her own black boots. Marci had, thankfully, let Rachel wear, saying they were one of the few things she owned that were cool. Rachel didn't care if they were cool or not, she liked them. The Doc Martens were an expensive indulgence. The stone skidded across the ground, and then hit the tire of a car not to far away. Rachel cringed, and then turned, hoping the owner had not seen her kick the stone.
Rachel jammed her hand into her pocket and pulled out a rubber band. She had actually liked the way that Marci had managed to straighten her super curly hair, but she was tired of brushing it off her face. Grabbing her black hair, she secured it into the rubber band.
"Rachel, come one. Let's go watch a couple of races." Marci called to her. She pointed down the way to an area where cars were lining up to race. Marci had given Rachel a run down of the basics. Drivers negotiated a price. Two cars raced, and the winner won the cash. Rachel had assumed racing cars was illegal, having seen reports of the said event on the news almost every other night, but Marci explained to her that these were legal races, called Race Wars, held once a month in a safe environment, with medical personal ready, in case the worst should happen. It was a celebrated event. Food vendors lined the walk way to the spectator section, and there were even shirts and other items being sold, as well.
As Rachel started to head towards Marci, her arm was grabbed, and she was turned around. Rachel let out a little squeak of surprise.
"You know. You kicked that stone and it hit my car. Maybe you should be careful."
Rachel stared back at the most handsome man that she had ever seen. She just stared back at him. She seemed to have lost motor skills because she couldn't talk.
"Uh.Uh." Was all that Rachel could get out. Her arm was still being held by his. She looked down at it. He released her arm, and put his hand in his pocket.
"Listen, just saying. If it was anyone else, they would have been all over your ass, and it would not have been in a nice way." He said. Rachel looked at him. The innuendo pierced through her clouded her brain, and gasping her took a step back.
He may have been gorgeous with his brown hair that he had combed away from his face, and the raspy voice was sexy, but Rachel was not impressed so far by his mannerisms.
She muttered an apology and then turned to leave.
"Hey wait." He called, taking off after her. Rachel frowned, and tried to walk faster, but he caught up with her anyway.
"Hey. Slow down, baby. I was hoping that we could talk." He said walking next to her. Rachel cast him a look as if he was crazy.
"You are kidding, right?" Rachel asked, stopping suddenly. He stopped and turned to face her.
"No." He said. Rachel couldn't believe her luck. She was hoping to get through this day without anyone hitting on her. Basically, she had been hoping to just get through the day, and get home, back to normalcy.
"Why? I mean, what could we possibly talk about?" Rachel asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"Well. You. Me. The weather? Your favorite sports team? I haven't seen you around here before. I saw you get here with Marci, but I have never seen you here with her before." He said, casting a look over at Marci who was still talking with the guy she had met earlier.
Rachel pursed her lips. She knew that this guy was more than likely looking to score, but he seemed nice enough to at least talk to, and stand around trying to look interested.
"Uh, yeah, Marci and I are friends. She forced me to come with her today. Uh.my name's Rachel." She said. She stuck out her hand, which he in turn shook. He smiled at her.
"My name's Leon. Come on. I will show you around." He said, her hand still held by his. Rachel couldn't explain why she didn't yank her hand away from him, but something about him seemed to draw her.