"Arya! How are you? Why haven't you called? How are your classes?" Arya winces at the onslaught of questions from her mother. This is what she gets for not calling for a week.

"I'm fine, mom." Except from my broken car, the cut on my forehead, and this little shit named Joffrey. "Classes are great."

"Have you made any new friends?"

"A few."

"Have you met any cute boys?"

Arya blushes, immediately thinking of Gendry. It's only been a day since they've kissed, and despite trying to erase the moment from her memory, she can't stopping thinking about it. Soft lips. Warm, hard body.

"No boys," Arya says firmly.

"Well there's plenty of time for that. You're young. Live your life."

Arya snorts. If only her mother knew the extent to which she was living her life. "How are the boys?"

"Bran is wonderful. He's been keeping his grades up. I think he'll definitely be valedictorian. He misses you though." Her mother sighs. "But Rickon got in trouble at school. Again."

"What was it this time?" Arya asks, smiling. Rickon is the only Stark child that manages to get into more trouble than Arya.

"Apparently, this other boy, Bobby, was picking on one of Rickon's friends. So Rickon put rubber cement glue on Bobby's chair, and it ripped off half his pants when he stood up."

"Typical. Is he in trouble?"

"Nothing too bad. Just another final warning."

"That's good to hear." Arya bites the corner of her nail. "How about dad? How's he doing?" Ever since her father was fired from Baratheon Corporations, he's been struggling to find steady work. He puts on a brave face, but Arya knows how worried he is about supporting the family.

"He's fine. He got a lead on some new work this morning. Some Japanese car that wants to land in America."

"That sounds promising."

"I hope so."

Arya glances at the clock. It's almost six. She's supposed to meet Gendry at the garage right after close so she can help with the car. "Mom, I've got to go. Some girls are getting together for a movie night."

"That sounds like fun. Have a good time, sweetheart. I love you."

"Love you too."

Arya ends the call and bites her lip. Lying to her family is becoming easier and easier. She doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Arya has to take a bus to get to Gendry's garage. It drops her off three blocks away, so she walks the rest of the way. By the time she gets to the shop, her cheeks are red and she's lightly sweating from walking in the damp heat. Self-consciously, she smoothes out her short hair and tugs at her jean shorts and tank.

She doesn't know what to expect. Last night, she got in a car accident, and it somehow ended up with Gendry kissing her. Or her kissing Gendry. Or kissing each other. It was so sudden. Of course, she's found herself attracted to Gendry in the past few days, but she assumed he looked at her like a little girl.

Why on earth would a grown mechanic be interested in a skinny, little racer?

Maybe it was just a moment. Just something that happened, and now they'll both move on. Arya has more important things to be concerned about, like her upcoming race on Joffrey's circuit and her sister. She doesn't need some schoolgirl crush getting in the way.

Arya heads straight into the shop without ringing the bell. When she gets inside, she finds Gendry bent over her car with a mask on his face and a soldering iron in his hand. He hasn't noticed her yet, so she watches him from a distance. Her eyes slowly trace over his strong, greased arms, his tousled dark hair, his full lips.

He must be the most attractive man she knows. He's definitely the most attractive man she's ever kissed. She watches him for a few more moments before clearing her throat and shouting, "Gendry!"

The soldering iron shuts off and Gendry lifts his mask. From the distance, Arya can't read the expression in his blue eyes. "Thought you'd come and help then?"

"Considering I crashed the car, I figure it's my duty to at least watch you fix it."

Gendry smirks. "I thought you hated me working on your car."

Arya eyes the crushed hood, the massive dents and scraps. "Let's just say this is above my level of expertise. I'm here for moral support."

"No you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"Grab a wrench. You're not getting out of here without getting your hands dirty."

Gendry smiles at her again, and Arya's pulse starts racing. She heads over to the tool chest and grabs a wrench. She spins it a few times in her hand before looking up at Gendry. "So," she says. "Are we going to talk about yesterday?"

Gendry places the iron down on the edge of the car. He tucks his hands in the pockets of his workpants. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk about it."

"Well of course I don't want to talk about it, but we're going to have to say something eventually, so why don't we just get it over with?" Arya crosses her arms. "You first."

"Why me?"

"Because I said so." Arya rolls her eyes, thinking, I'm doing a great job of sounding mature for my age.

"Fine. At least walk over here. I don't need to shout half-way across the room, do I?"

Arya spins the wrench in her hand a few more times before slowly stepping forward. She leans against the side of the car so that there's still some space between the two of them. But that space feels a lot smaller after last night. Arya glances at Gendry to find his blue eyes on hers. She bites her lip, trying to suppress any desire. "Close enough?" She asks.

"Yes."

God, why is his voice so low, Arya thinks. And why does he keep looking at me like that?

"So," Gendry continues. "Last night was very...sudden. And I've been thinking about it, and I owe you a very large apology." Without warning, Gendry takes Arya's hand. Her face flushes as his rough skin touches her own. She forces herself to meet his serious eyes. "You came to me injured, Arya, and I took advantage of you. Instead of taking you to the hospital, I, well, I pressed myself upon you in a way that was very inappropriate. And I'm sorry."

"You pressed yourself upon me?" Arya asks, raising her eyebrows.

"Well, I assaulted you."

Arya snorts. "Assaulted me?"

"I touched you in a way..."

"Now it just sounds like I was molested." Arya crosses her arms, pleased that she's managed to make Gendry flustered. She didn't like that serious look in his eyes. "Look, Gendry, whatever you did or did not do, you in no way took advantage of me. I'm not a little kid. I knew what I was doing."

"I'm not saying that you're a little kid, but you are much younger than me, and you were wounded, and I had no right to..." Gendry sighs, frustrated. He lets go of Arya's hand and starts pacing in front of the car. "I had no right to kiss you. It was inappropriate, and I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

Arya's stomach drops. It won't happen again. But what if she wants it to happen again? Does that make any difference?

"I'm not that much younger than you," Arya mumbles.

"Hell, Arya. You're only eighteen. I'm twenty-four. That's a big difference."

"My father is years older than my mother." Arya bites her tongue immediately after saying that. She has to remember not to bring her family up around Gendry. The less he knows the better. "Besides, I'm mature for my age."

"You call getting yourself into a fucking car accident in the middle of the night on an abandoned road mature?"

Arya narrows her eyes. "That's besides the point, and you know it." Arya steps forward and grabs Gendry's hand. Again, she forces herself to look him in the eye, despite blushing. "Look," she says softly. "If you aren't interested in me like that, than that's okay. I understand. But don't use my age as an excuse." Oh god, what am I saying, Arya thinks. I'm practically throwing myself at a man who probably doesn't even like me. "I'm not, I'm not saying we should be together or anything like that, all right? I'm not asking you to be my stupid boyfriend. I'm just saying that there's obviously some sort of attraction between us, and if you could just stop being a dumb idiot for two seconds and admit that, than we could move on."

Gendry smirks. "A dumb idiot?"

"Press yourself upon me?" Arya let's go of Gendry's hand and takes a step back. Her face is probably bright red.

"So that's what you want?" Gendry asks. "You want to move on."

Is that really all he picked up from what I just said? "I just want everything to be out in the open so that we can get back to what's important: my car."

It's the most sensible thing she's said all day. Racing is what matters. Not some stubborn mechanic. No matter how broad his shoulders are.

"Fine." Gendry picks up the soldering iron. "We kissed. It happened. For one reason or another, and now we're moving on."

"Right."

"Right." Gendry puts his mask back on. "Now grab that wrench so that we can get to work."

For the next few hours, Arya helps Gendry work on her car, thinking the entire time that they settled absolutely nothing. That she has no idea how he feels about her. And that she has no idea if she'll ever get to kiss him again.

The car isn't fixed until Friday morning. That leaves Arya only a few hours to practice before the race that night. She heads out to Cajon Cross, promising Gendry that she won't practice her new trick alone, and that if he doesn't hear from her by sundown, he's allowed to call in a search party.

Arya slides open her phone and dials Jon's number. He picks up on the first ring. "Where the hell have you been?" He asks. Arya rolls her eyes. He's angry as usual. "I went back out to Cajon Cross the next day, and all I found was a toppled over tree, some blood, and broken glass. And then you don't pick up your phone for the rest of the week. Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," Arya says with bored sarcasm.

"I know you're fine or you wouldn't be calling." Jon sighs, and Arya can imagine him pacing back and forth in his apartment, Ghost watching his every step.

"I'll be in the race tonight. Will you be there?"

"No. I'm sitting this one out. Full roster, apparently, and I could use the break."

"So it'll be me, the Hound, and who else?"

"Not totally sure. Probably Loras. He isn't very tricky, but he's fucking fast, and he has the best reaction time I've ever seen." Jon pauses. "And then I guess one more racer. Not sure who."

"Loras. The name sounds familiar."

"I think he's family friends with the Baratheons. I'm not sure."

"All right." Arya bites her lip. She's nervous. She was hoping Jon would be in the race tonight. That way she'd be up against at least one familiar face. "Will you be there, you know, in the audience?"

"Of course, I will. I don't want someone beating my little sister into a bloody pulp without me there to stop them."

"Thank you for that wonderful visual and those words of encouragement."

"I'm just being honest, Arya. I've warned you once, and twice-"

"-and a third and a fourth time-"

"It's dangerous out there. These aren't all nice people. So protect yourself, and don't be dumb."

"Anything else?" Arya asks.

"Yeah. One more thing." Jon pauses. "Win the race."

Arya's pulse is racing as she pulls up to the line of cars. She's late. There are already three cars parked beside hers on the starting line. She shuts off her engine and tugs her hat low before stepping out of the car. The crowd of spectators is larger than usual, and Arya wonders if that's because Cat of El Cajon is racing tonight.

She spies Gendry in the crowd. Jon is standing less than ten feet away from him. The sight makes her nervous, and she prays they won't start talking to each other. Next to them is Joffrey's tent. Sansa sits under it, talking to another girl who is wearing very tight shorts and a cropped shirt. Sansa flickers her gaze towards Arya for just a second before looking away again.

"I'm so glad you've decided to grace us with your presence, Cat." Arya looks up to find Joffrey standing right in front of her. He's wearing black pants and a plain, white top. Much more casual than his usual attire. Arya notices a pair of racing gloves sticking out of his pocket.

"Sorry I'm late." She eyes the gloves. "Are you racing, Joffrey?"

"I've decided to test out the skill of the new racer myself, seeing as how my dog hasn't been very cooperative lately." He glances at Sandor who is leaning against his own car. "I hope that doesn't change your mind about racing. I wouldn't want to scare you away."

Arya bites back a laugh. There's no way Joffrey is a better racer than her. This will be a piece of cake. "I'm all right, but thank you for considering my feelings."

Joffrey takes a step forward, and Arya bows her head down. "Still won't show us your face, Cat? It can't be worse to look at than Sandor's."

Arya doesn't respond.

"Fine. The race will start in ten minutes. I'll see you at the finish line." Joffrey strides away back to his tent. Arya watches as he snaps at Sansa. She immediately leans over to help him put on his gloves.

Someone taps Arya on the shoulder and she spins around. Gendry is standing behind her, his blue eyes panicked. He steps closer and leans down so that his mouth is against her ear. She shivers at the contact. "You have to lose the race," he whispers.

"Why?" Arya asks, confused.

Gendry stands back up but keeps his voice low. "You can't beat Joffrey."

Arya laughs. "I can definitely beat Joffrey."

"Keep your voice down." He takes another step forward. Arya can feel the heat radiating off his body. She tries to pay attention to the conversation, but being so close to Gendry is distracting. She's feels like they've been playing cat and mouse all week. And whenever he's around, her thoughts drift back to the feeling of his lips against her own. "I'm mean, you shouldn't beat Joffrey. He'll be furious. He'll never let you race again. A couple times a year, Joffrey gets bored and decides he wants to race himself, and everyone lets him win."

"But, why? That's stupid."

"Because if he doesn't win, he'll shut the circuit down. He'll be embarrassed and furious, and that'll be the end of it. Without Joffrey's deep pockets, this circuit won't survive."

"So everyone just lets him win?"

"Yes." Gendry locks eyes with Arya. "And you better let him too. Don't let your stubborn pride get in the way."

"I'm not stubborn."

Gendry raises an eyebrow.

"All right, fine. I'll let him win."

"Good." Gendry grabs Arya's hand and squeezes it tightly for just a second. "I'll see you after the race, Arya Stark."

A/N –Sorry. Short chapter. It was a struggle getting this one out because it was a bit of a filler chapter again. But things will heat up shortly.

As always, thank you for reading a reviewing. You guys are the best!