A/N – Thank you so much to all of the reviews / alerts / favorites of this story so far. I know it's a small fandom- so all the feedback makes me feel really good. Thanks guys!
By the time Arya wakes up, midday light is already shining through her curtains. She rolls over in bed, snuggling deeper into the pillows. Last night she turned the air conditioner all the way up, letting the cold air blast over her. San Diego might be pretty, but the air is too warm for her taste.
Arya is about to close her eyes and go back to sleep when Nymeria whines softly.
"Stop it," Arya mumbles. She hasn't had time to sleep in for weeks now, and she wants to take full advantage of the empty day stretched ahead of her, but Nymeria keeps whining. "I mean it, Nymeria," Arya warns.
Apparently Nymeria doesn't take the threat very seriously because she pounces on the bed. Arya let's out a loud oomph as Nymeria crawls over her and settles down on her stomach. "Off, fatty." Nymeria weighs more than Arya does, and her furry coat is blocking all the air conditioning. "Come on. Off."
Nymeria licks Arya's face with her large, rough tongue before standing up and dragging Arya's comforter away with her teeth. "All right, all right. I get the point."
Arya drags herself out of bed and pads barefooted across the room to where Nymeria is anxiously waiting at the door. "I'm surprised you don't just open it yourself," Arya mutters. Her dog has always been suspiciously intelligent, but without opposable thumbs, she'll always need Arya's help.
As soon as Arya opens the door, Nymeria bolts outside towards the unfenced, sparse woods surrounding the motel. "Don't run far," Arya yells. At home, Arya always let Nymeria run free. It was safe enough because everyone in the neighborhood recognized Nymeria and her siblings. But Arya can't imagine San Diego strangers acting too friendly towards a giant wolf dog. Pushing these uneasy thoughts out of her mind, Arya heads back inside and towards the bathroom.
The shower isn't very hot, but the water pressure is nice and strong. Arya lets the water rush over her as she smoothes back her short, dark hair. She can't remember the last time she washed it. Probably at least a week ago. It's almost to her shoulders now, and she wonders if it's time for another haircut. She prefers to keep her hair and nails short. As a racer, long hair and nails aren't very practical. Her hair would whip around in the wind too much, and long nails would poke holes in her racing gloves.
The bathroom is foggy when Arya steps out of the shower. She quickly towels herself off before walking naked into the bedroom, something she never had the privilege to do at home. She was always scared that Rickon or her mother or whoever else would barge into the room without warning. Growing up with a big family had its upsides- but privacy was definitely not one of them.
Arya starts shoving around her clothing, pulling things out of her suitcase and throwing them to the ground. Eventually she pulls out her favorite pair of black skinny jeans and a soft black tank top. Her mother always complains that Arya doesn't own enough feminine clothing. Maybe she's right. But at least her clothes fit better now. The tank fits her snuggly, just barely exposing her chest that suddenly decided to develop last year. When Arya looks at herself in the mirror, the thought of Gendry flickers through her mind.
Gendry the mechanic. He's one of the most rude, stubborn people Arya has ever met, but he seems to know his way around a car. And that's something Arya finds ten times more attractive than his strong arms or blue eyes. Not that those are bad to look at. Yesterday, she actually had a bit of trouble not staring.
Arya shakes her head, trying to push away these thoughts. Gendry is her mechanic, and she's a skinny little girl who needs his help. She doesn't have time to get distracted by the silly infatuations that Sansa always dreamt up about every man that entered her life. She won't let chiseled abs get in the way of her racing career. She's not stupid.
Sighing, Arya runs a hand through her wet hair, reminding herself that single-minded determination is the only way to get what she wants. She grabs her car keys and heads out into the afternoon sun.
When Arya gets home from running errands, Nymeria appears out of the evening shadows, stalking slowly towards her. "Good girl," Arya says, relieved that she didn't run off.
Arya's arms are full of bags, and she has to fumble with her keys for a moment before opening the motel door. Nymeria follows her inside and immediately starts sniffing one of the bags. "Hold on, hold on," Arya says before extracting the huge bag of dog food. She rips of the top of the bag with her teeth and throws it to the ground, letting Nymeria attack it without the formality of a bowl. My mother would have a heart attack, Arya thinks.
As Nymeria eats, Arya starts unpacking the rest of the bags. She bought enough groceries to last her for a week, and it takes a few minutes to shove them all in the mini fridge. She also had to buy some new clothing to help adjust to the hot weather. Arya pulls out a couple pairs of new shorts and tanks; she didn't bother trying them on at the store. They were cheap, and she assumes they'll fit. Even though Arya grew up with plenty of money, she has to keep on a strict budget from now on if she doesn't want to make her parents suspicious of what she's really up to down in San Diego.
Arya finishes unpacking and glances at her watch. It's almost ten at night, and she wonders where the day went. I guess that's what happens when you sleep until almost four in the afternoon, she thinks. Arya turns to Nymeria who is now lying face down in a mess of dry dog food. "I'll be back soon," Arya says. "Try not to get into too much trouble."
Nymeria looks up, cocking her head to the side and staring straight at Arya. For a second, Arya can swears she hear Nymeria saying, "You too."
Gendry is waiting outside the shop when Arya pulls into the lot. He's wearing dark jeans and a black tank top. Arya can't help but appreciate the sight of those long, muscled arms she was thinking about earlier today. She's glad he can't see her expression from inside of the dark car. She flashes her lights and unlocks the passenger door. Gendry shoves his hands in his pockets before walking towards the car in long strides.
When he opens the door and slides inside, he automatically checks the backseats.
"What are you doing?" Arya asks.
"Just making sure you didn't decide to take that beast along for our joy ride."
"She's not a beast."
"She weighs more than I do."
"That's not true. You're much fatter than she is." Okay, calling Gendry fat is an outright lie, but who cares? Gendry has been in the car for about ten seconds, and they're already bickering. She can't believe they only met yesterday. "Nymeria's only intimidating because you let her intimidate you. She can sniff out easy prey."
Gendry's eyes are illuminated in the dim light of the car, and his lips are curled into that tight smirk. "Whatever you say, Arya. That dog is enormous, and I'm man enough to admit I don't want to be on her bad side."
"Where am I going?" Arya asks, changing the subject and pulling her car into reverse.
"Head towards the highway. I'll show you."
Last night Gendry said he wanted to see Arya drive before he took her to any races, and she had to agree it was a fair offer. Hopefully tonight will prove to Gendry that Arya isn't some silly fool who just likes to watch shirtless men drive cars in Fast and Furious.
They drive in silence with the exception of Gendry telling her to turn right and left. She can feel him staring at her, but she keeps her eyes trained on the road, one hand on the wheel, and one on the gearshift. The further they drive, the emptier the roads become. After half an hour- there's not another car in sight, and the street is surrounded by dry, packed dirt.
"Are you sure it's all right to race here?" Arya asks.
"No one actually races here. Not in tournaments. The stretches aren't wide or long enough for more than one or two cars. But it's good for practice."
Arya flexes her hand before returning it to the wheel. She looks to Gendry for the first time since he got into the car. His blue eyes quickly flash to meet her own. Her car suddenly feels very small. "So what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to show off." His voice is low and steady. "Show me that you're confident. Show me speed. Agility." Arya finds herself watching Gendry's full lips as he speaks, mesmerized by every word. "Show me that you know exactly what you're doing. Instinct. Precision."
When he finishes, Arya clears her throat and looks away. She can feel that her face is slightly flushed, a reaction that doesn't happen often. "I can do that."
Gendry nods and leans back in his seat. He crosses his arms, and Arya's eyes flicker over the taut muscles. This time when he speaks, he's staring straight ahead. "Then do it."
Arya is more than distracted by Gendry's presence, by his...affect on her. A stupid, bullheaded idiot shouldn't be allowed to get under her skin. But as soon as Arya pulls the car into drive, all thoughts of Gendry drop away. There's nothing but her, the open stretch of road, and an engine whirring beneath her. She accelerates quickly, nearing a hundred-ten miles an hour in just a few seconds. The wind whips through her open windows, tousling her short hair. She goes faster and faster. But she knows it won't be enough to impress Gendry. Anyone can put their foot down on a pedal. If she wants Gendry's help, she'll need more than just pure speed.
There's a curve coming up in the road, about twenty feet off. She could take it sharp and fast. But that would still be too easy. Predictable. Arya hates being predictable. So instead of preparing to go around the corner, Arya shoots straight towards it, decelerating at just the last minute so that she can flip the car around, spinning it once and a half, tires burning hot rubber, as she speeds back the same way she came. The whole thing takes a few seconds and has Gendry gripping his seat with white knuckles and shouting "Oi! Easy there."
Arya smirks as she pitches the car halfway down the road and spins it again. She then zigzags down the rest of the stretch with precise jerks and switches. By the time she pulls the car to a stop at the end of the road, she's smiling broadly. She can see burnt tire tracks in the rear-view mirror.
Gendry turns to her, his blue eyes wide and animate. Arya angles herself towards him, a smug smile tugging at her lips. "I didn't expect that," he says.
"Why? Because I'm a girl?"
"Yes."
"Well at least you aren't a liar."
"And neither are you apparently." He shakes his head slowly, dark shaggy hair falling over his forehead. "I've driven this stretch a hundred times. I never once thought to pull a turn that close to the edge."
"You race?"
"No. Not really." Gendry smiles. "But what's the point of building the car if you can't take it for a spin?"
"I guess that's true." Arya takes her hands off the wheel, stripping off her driving gloves. They're starting to wear through from years of use. She chews on her lip for a minute before asking, "So you'll help me then?"
"You're going to race whether I help you or not."
"That's true."
"And you're bound to do something stupid if I don't help you." Arya wants to retort, but she's smart enough to keep her mouth shut. "And you seem to know what you're doing."
"That's very true."
Gendry sighs before leaning over in his seat so that his head is only inches away from Arya's. The nearness unsettles Arya, and she can feel her skin tingling. She's tempted to back away, but she doesn't want to seem weak, or worse, foolish. "So," she says, her voice coming out softer than usual. "Is that a yes?"
Slowly, very slowly, Gendry starts to smile. Eventually it reaches up all the way into his dark blue eyes. "Yes, Arya Stark. I'll help you."
It's the best thing she's heard for months.
The wind whips through Arya's hair as she races down the road in an open-top, black convertible. The speedometer is rising and rising as she breaks one-fifty, and then two-hundred, and then the needle breaks and falls down. Beside the car, Nymeria is lunging forward down the road, strong muscled legs keeping up with Arya's pace. Wind rushes through her thick fur, and as her paws lift off the road, she appears to be flying. "Faster," Arya says. "Faster and faster."
A light flashes in her rear-view mirror, and Arya's eyes flick behind her. There's a car coming straight towards her, moving incredibly fast. Arya presses her foot on the gas, but her car won't speed up. If anything, it's starting to slow down, and the other car is closing in on her. Nymeria starts whining and howling and Arya watches as the shaggy dog disappears from the road and starts sprinting towards a thick forest. "No!" Arya shouts. "Don't leave me!" But her words disappear with the wind.
The car is close now. Too close. In her mirrors, Arya can see the reflection of a man. His face is blurred, but she spots thick blonde hair and a mocking smile. "No, no," Arya says, panicking. She keeps trying to accelerate, but her engine is stuttering beneath her, and eventually her entire car rumbles to a stop. Arya's heart is racing. Her palms are sweaty. "He's coming for me," she thinks.
But when she whips her head around and looks behind her- there's no car there. There's nothing but the still, black night.
Arya wakes up to Nymeria licking the cold sweat off of her face. She doesn't have the energy to push her dog away. Instead she lies still and lets her racing heart slowly calm down. She's had dreams like these before. They're almost always the same. Some man with blonde hair is chasing her down long, empty roads. Nymeria disappears from her side. Her car fails.
She's been having these dreams for a year now. They started right around the time her father was fired from his job, so she just attributed them to stress and ignored them. But the dreams are strange and unsettling, and it always takes Arya days to shake the odd feeling.
When she lived at home, she would always tell Bran what she dreamt about. And he would look at her with his big, brown eyes and tell her that everyone dreams, but the dreams aren't real. Bran was always a calming presence in her very hectic childhood. Even though he's the second youngest, he always seemed to be the most mature. While Arya and Rickon were busy throwing peas in Sansa's auburn hair, and Jon and Robb were busy sneaking out of the house to meet up with girls, Bran would be there to ground them all in place.
Thinking about Bran makes Arya a little bit homesick. As much as her family annoys her, she still loves them more than anything in the world. She just wishes she could be honest with them. Lying to her sweet, little brother was one of the hardest things she's ever done.
Sighing, Arya rolls over in bed and nestles into Nymeria's soft coat. She scratches her behind the ear, her favorite spot, and Nymeria responds happily by nuzzling closer. "You miss them too, don't you?" Arya asks. Nymeria had to leave her siblings behind also- Summer and Shaggydog. "Why don't we give them a call?"
Arya reaches for her cell phone and quickly dials Bran's cell phone. After a few rings it rolls straight to his voicemail. Arya assumes he must be at work. During the summers, he works at a day camp as an outdoor adventure counselor. She decides to leave a short message, "Hey, Bran, it's me. Sorry I haven't called yet." She pauses. "College has been crazy. I miss you, though. Give me a call when you have a chance."
She closes the phone and is about to call Rickon when her cell starts ringing loudly. The name Gendry Waters flashes across the green screen. After last night, they exchanged numbers so that he could contact her about a race. Seeing his name flashing across her phone makes Arya's pulse race, and she chews the edge of her thumb before answering.
"Hello?" She asks when she finally picks up the call. Arya can hear Gendry breathing on the other end. She wonders what he's doing. Where he is. If he's at the shop or at home. If he's dressed or-
"Arya?" Gendry asks, cutting off her train of thought.
"Yeah, stupid. Who else would it be?"
She can hear him laughing softly into the phone. "You just get nicer and nicer every day."
"And you get dumber and fatter."
"That's not true."
"So why are you calling?" Arya's stomach twists anxiously. Hopefully his call means good news.
"There's a race." Gendry pauses. "Tonight."
"Great. What time should I pick you up?"
"Actually, I'll be picking you up."
"Yeah, and why's that?" Arya likes driving. Whenever she gets in the car with someone else, she always gets the urge to shove them aside and grab the wheel for herself. Most people don't know a gearshift from an emergency break.
"The guys on the circuit know my car. Whenever a new cars show up, people talk. We don't want people to talk."
"Really?" Racing in Montana was always pretty relaxed. Arya knew it would be different in San Diego, but she didn't know it would be so extreme.
"Really. So I'll pick you up at eleven tonight. What's your address?"
"I'm living in Motel 8 right now- you know the one right off of Cajon Boulevard by the-"
"Got it. See you then." Gendry clicks off before Arya has a chance to finish talking. She stares at her phone for a second before throwing it to the side of her bed.
Her pulse is racing. Her palms are sweaty. Just like in her dream.
Except this time she isn't scared. No. She's excited.
She's going to a race tonight.
A/N – How'd you guys like the chapter? I'm really enjoying writing this story, so hopefully you guys like reading it : )