Thanks to MereMcQueen314 for the reviews! :) This chapter turned out a little bit differently than I expected, but I think it went the way it needed to. I hope all of the readers enjoy this chapter! R&R is always greatly appreciated.
Georgia ducked away from the crowd of cars, glancing back just once to make sure that no one was looking her way. Satisfied that no one was, she quickly made her escape, driving down to a more deserted area of the stadium, where they were serving refreshments. She drove towards the line of tables which were littered with perfectly aligned cans of oil, stopping short to wait for the car in front of her.
The stock car reversed rather quickly, catching her off guard as he almost bumped into her. "I'm sorry!" she started quickly, backing up a bit to give him space.
"No, it's my fault," he apologized, looking her over. He must have noticed the paint job, which clearly gave away who she rooted for at every race.
As she squeezed past him, she said, "Chick Hicks, right?"
"Yeah." She noticed that his voice was flat. He was a young racer - at least young compared to her father - and he was only a little older than she was.
"I'm Georgia," she introduced. "You raced really well out there."
"Well, thanks, Georgia," Chick answered, something sounding a little like surprise catching in his voice. But there was something else layering in his voice, something like frustration? Georgia glanced at him as she took a sip of her oil, one eyelid rising. She didn't hesitate long before she spoke.
"Not as good as winning though, right? I know how that goes..." She shook her hood, but she smiled at him. "Strip is definitely goin' to be hard to beat." She nodded towards him, though, admiration in her smile and her gesture. "But you're good - scary good. I was worried you were going to beat him there for a while!" She watched as Chick took a swig off of his drink, his dark brown eyes measuring her, in a way. Thoughts ran through his mind, but she couldn't tell what they were.
"You're a King fan, then? I figured as much by the paint job."
"Oh, well, yeah, of course I'm a fan of The King. He is my dad," she said quickly. She glanced away, as if she was trying to keep out of sight of someone.
Chick almost choked on his fuel. "What?" He stared at her, a look of shock on his face, which caused her breath to catch, something she hoped he hadn't noticed. 'Most people don't react like that. Usually it's pretty obvious...' She gazed him a moment, about to open her mouth to say something, but her mother's voice rang out through the stale stadium air.
"Georgia Rian! Why did you drive off like that?"
She looked back to Chick. "I'm sorry - my mama's goin' to have a tractor if I don't get back to her. It was really nice to meet you, Chick," she told him, her words rushed, but her voice was sincere. 'I hope I can talk to you again. You seem like you're nice enough.' "You raced well, so don't beat up on yourself so much. Good luck!" And she turned and drove off, calling, "I'm comin'!"
For the next few days that followed, Georgia spent her time getting acquainted with the town. She met with her parents at Flo's each morning for breakfast, wandered around taking tours and seeing the sights, driving out to Ornament Valley, watching the Rust Bucket race, hunkering down a few nights in her parent's house. It was nice and reminded her a lot of the old house.
About a week passed in this fashion, and she found that she enjoyed spending the greater part of her time in Ornament Valley. Late one afternoon she found herself perched at the old gas station, which was mostly used as a spot for cars to loiter. Boxes were scattered here and there, and trucks mulled around speaking in heavy Northern accents, talking about fixing the station up a bit and opening up there.
"We could make a lot of money off of this place," a navy blue Topkick commented to his friend. "There are a lot of cars out here and there are those Rust Bucket races that they hold every week. It would be a great opportunity for us."
His friend, a yellow Ford, nodded his hood. "Yeah yeah, I know what you're saying. And since this is McQueen's racing HQ, a lotta cars have been coming out here. Ornament Valley is going to get bigger, so we might as well capitalize on it." He pushed a few boxes out of the way, glancing over at the pumps that were old and covered in rust and dust. "We could clean this place up."
Georgia listened in nonchalantly, digging her tire into the dust. The gritty substance stuck in her tires, and the texture of it engaged her as her mind wandered leisurely. The sun was hot and high in the sky, setting the stage for the coming racing season. Speaking of which - the Topkick was talking about that now. "You know, the racing season is about to start back up. That's definitely going to attract some attention from the crowds."
The Ford nodded enthusiastically as they mulled around pushing crates. "Yeah, and the King and his wife live out here. I've seen Chick Hicks out here, too, and with the World Grand Prix crowd out here to visit... We would have a lot of business if Ornament Valley expanded like it looks like it will."
The baby blue car turned her eyes towards them, narrowing them slightly as she listened more intently to their conversation.
The Topkick added, "Yeah. Not sure how much Hicks is going to do for business, though. It might not be such a great thing to have him out here."
"I dunno, I mean... There are still probably some diehard fans leftover. You never really know."
"Whatever. Don't think Hicks is going to do us any good. He's trouble, you know. I bet he's out here for just that - to start trouble."
"Yeah. I mean, I don't doubt the whole trouble thing. He's probably out here to screw with Lightning."
"Wouldn't surprise me much. But that isn't bad strategy, you gotta admit." The Topkick disappeared inside the small building for a moment, before reappearing. "I mean, think about it. He screws with Lightning, who might come into the season a little rusty anyway because of his run in the World Grand Prix, ya know with different tracks and all. So he screws with Lightning, and bam, he actually might legitimately win a race."
"Hey!" A sharp, strident voice broke up their conversation, causing Georgia to roll back slightly. She watched as Chick appeared, driving over to the Topkick and the Ford, who shared glances with each other. "I have legitimately won races before."
"Oh yeah? Name one," the Topkick challenged, only to swiftly receive a punch in the side from the Ford.
Chick's eyes narrowed threateningly, although Georgia was convinced that he wouldn't do anything. He was, for the most part, all talk and no drive. But this time, he was no talk and no drive, just the stare, which was cold and hard. She watched with curiosity, wondering how this would come to a conclusion, and if Chick or either of the two trucks would say anymore.
The Topkick simply took his friend's advice and backed off, disappearing inside the building, followed by his now nervous looking friend. Just as quickly as things had heated up, they had cooled back down, and the green stock car was left on the faded, half-sand-buried tiles of the old gas station.
Georgia pulled out of her hidden spot and approached Chick, whose eyes widened slightly at her sudden appearance.
"What do you want?"
"Have you legitimately won any races?" She parked in front of him, settling on one side of her tires, a lot like Strip used to do.
"Don't do that," Chick said, avoiding her question.
"Don't do what? Ask you questions?"
"No. Don't lean on your side like that."
"Why?" She straightened slightly, a frown tipping her grill downward. "What's wrong with it?"
Chick scoffed. "Just cut it out. You're starting to look like him, too."
"I've always looked like him."
"Well don't start acting like him, Weathers."
"I thought we were on a first name basis," Georgia replied, leaning on one side of her tires just to getting under Chick's metal sheeting.
"When did you ever get an idea like that?"
"You've called me Georgia before."
"Like, what? Ten years ago? How long ago has it been? And you cars have lost your mind. It's only been like five years since the wreck. Not seven," Chick snorted, sounding sure of himself, but by the way the car in front of him looked at him, he had the sneaking suspicion that he was the one who had lost his mind.
Georgia gazed at him a while, her even eyes unnerving Chick. He didn't like the way she looked at him, and the longer she paused to measure him up as he had seemingly measured her up all those years ago, the more and more the stock car felt uncomfortable in the silence. After a while, she finally spoke. "You know, it's been seven years since the wreck. You just don't realize it, do you?"
Chick ground his teeth, pushing aside the discomfort to lock gazes with her. Suddenly a frown crossed her grill again, thoughts passing behind her eyes, thoughts he couldn't dissect and wasn't sure if he wanted to. Georgia, on the other hand, found herself wanting to know more with each passing second. She didn't remember his eyes to be so cold. The very first time they met replayed in her mind, and she couldn't think of a moment of their short conversation in which his eyes had been so unforgiving and bitter.
The wit was gone, and she simply stared at him, confused. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?" She shook her hood.
"I don't know, with that expression... Stop. See you're doing it now, stop, cut it out! Gah, all of you Weathers cars are crazy!" Chick smacked his tire against the ground, raising a small cloud of dust. Georgia felt like she should have said something to counter him, yet nothing came to mind, and she simply stood in her spot, watching him with the same curiosity and confusion as before.
An awkward silence ensued. It lasted for a few minutes, which ticked by slowly, ever so slowly.
Until Georgia cleared her throat. "Well, considering that my father set it up for me to be...fakely?...arrested, I guess we are kind of slightly insane..."
Chick nodded, not saying anything. He wasn't quite sure what to say, really.
So another awkward silence ensued.
"Well, I don't have time to stay here and go back and forth with you, so." Chick sounded matter-of-fact.
"Neither do I, so you know." Not that I've got some important engagement. I don't really think you do either...
"Good then," Chick retorted rather quickly. "I wouldn't want to waste your precious time."
"I'll be wasting it on my own, thank you," Georgia replied, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as he had.
Chick snorted, covering up an inward chuckle. I have to waste my own time, apparently. Lightning hasn't shown his pretty fender on the practice track at all. "I have important things to tend to, you know, being a racer and all. Gotta check out the competition, not that Lightning will pose a threat this season or whatever." The 'or whatever' was a little flakey, and sounded unsure even to Chick himself.
But Georgia's eyelids rose nonetheless as she nodded her hood. "Confident, I see. Very impressive."
The stock car's eyes narrowed for a moment. Sarcasm, I see. Well then. "Yeah yeah - you know I don't even need confidence."
"And why is that?"
"I'm sure Lightning is going to be off game this season." So if it's really been seven years... Seven years have got to give somewhere. He's got to hit his peak sometime, right? Right. "I mean, he's going to make mistakes, and that's where I'm going to storm in and take the lead. And legitimately win some races."
Georgia shook her hood, hiding a slight smile. "Don't get too cocky."
"Me, cocky? Please."
Chick and Georgia both laughed a little, but he caught himself and he stopped, causing her to stop quite abruptly. Another silence followed, but Georgia broke it again, nodding towards Chick. "Well, it was nice to see you again. Don't let those guys get under your sheeting, by the way. They're just interested in fixing the gas station up, nothing too big."
"Mm. Thanks for the advice."
She shrugged her tires loosely. "That wasn't really advice. Well, okay, it was. But I'll leave you with something to think about."
"And that would be?"
"Don't hole yourself up out here. Trust me, it'll drive you crazy - if you aren't already crazy. You should come into town every once in a little while. There are some folks who would be more than happy to see you at Flo's for a quart of oil," she remarked, reversing. She sent him one last glance, before driving away, leaving him with her words and whatever implications might have been there.
"Wait, what?" Chick stayed there a while, wondering what the Weathers girl meant by that.