Arya pulls on her leather racing gloves before flexing her hands twice and placing them on the wheel. She glances to the side, waiting for the whistle to be blown. She's on the left edge. Joffrey is next to her, than Loras, than Sandor. Joffrey catches her stare and narrows his eyes. Arya quickly tugs down her cap. She doesn't like how it impairs her vision, but it's better than Joffrey finding out her real identity.
The whistle blows and Arya guns the gas. She shifts the car, quickly gaining speed, 30...55...90...110...All of the cars are neck and neck as the speed down the first stretch of road. Arya holds steady, still unsure of what to do.
Gendry told her to throw the race, to let Joffrey win. She trusts Gendry's advice. She believes that if Joffrey loses, he'll through a fit and possibly shut down the circuit. But still- Arya can't comprehend losing on purpose. Losing a race is bad enough. Why would she want to give one away?
At least she didn't bet any money on this first race. If she let's Joffrey win, the only thing she'll lose is her pride.
Arya looks to the right. Loras has begun to surge away from the pack, but Sandor is right at his tail. He edges dangerously close to Loras' bumper before barely banging it. Loras swerves to the side, and by the time he regains control of his car, he's a few seconds behind the rest of the racers.
Joffrey is still holding ground with Arya. She could slow down and then edge around his side before bursting forward. Or she could sidle right next to Joffrey's car and bully him into slowing down or getting hit. Or she could stay exactly where she is and let him win.
She bites her lip. There's less than a mile left on the circuit. She'll have to make a decision soon. She tries to think about what Jon would do. He's been racing in this circuit for years near. He must have raced Joffrey at some point. And I guess he let Joffrey win, Arya thinks, or that would have been his last race. It doesn't seem like Jon to let someone bully him into losing. It doesn't seem like Jon to let someone get their way just because they have money.
Fuck. While lost in her thoughts, Arya somehow surged ahead of Joffrey and Sandor. She stopped concentrating on keeping level, and instead, starting driving on autopilot. And Arya's autopilot is to drive as fast as possible.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. There's only half a mile left in the stretch. She's at least two car lengths in front of Joffrey. If she slows down now, it'll look like she's losing on purpose. But if she doesn't slow down, she'll win the race.
Which one is worse?
Arya spies Loras in her rearview mirror. He's coming up straight behind her. Joffrey is to his side. Arya chews on her lip, panicked, pulse racing. What do I do?
At the last second, she spots a ditch in the road, just a few paces to her left. She quickly swerves and let's her car dive into the pothole. It's not large enough to do any damage, but it slows her down by a few seconds, and Joffrey rushes past her. Along with Loras and Sandor.
Dammit, Arya thinks as she crosses the finish line in last place. Not only have I let Joffrey win, but in my idiocy, I let Sandor and Loras beat me too.
Arya pulls her car into park and shuts off the engine. She breathes deeply, trying to control her anger. At herself. At the entire situation. As she steps out of the car, she slams her door shut behind her.
Joffrey is standing in front of his car, waving at the cheering crowd. Arya notices that the applause isn't half as loud as the first race she went to. Joffrey walks over to Sandor and slaps him on the back. "Second place, not bad for a dog," he says. "I'm glad you know where you belong now."
Sandor stares him down with cold, black eyes, but he doesn't say a word. He nods stiffly at Loras and Arya before stalking back to his car and driving away. Joffrey turns to Loras and shakes his hand. "Fine racing," Joffrey says. "It's a pity Sandor managed to bump you off in the beginning. It's hard to make up for that kind of loss."
Loras shakes Joffrey's hand and smiles. For the first time, Arya notices how attractive Loras is. He has thick, curly hair and a charming smile. "There'll be another race another night. I hope to test my skill against your excellent ability once more."
"A gracious loser is a winner in my accounts. Please, join me at my tent. Your sister and my fiancé seem to be great friends, and I'd like it if we could all go to dinner together."
"Of course. Thank you, Joffrey." Loras heads towards the tent. Arya watches as the girl in the tight shorts and top stands up to hug him and place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Sansa smiles affectionately in Loras' direction.
"And you," Joffrey says, approaching Arya. "I thought you had me for a moment, but obviously my skill far surpasses yours." He says this loudly so that the whole street can hear.
But as he gets closer, he grabs Arya's hand. He shakes it once before gripping it tightly. He leans in and whispers coldly in her ear, "I know you threw that race. And I'm sure a few of the more intelligent spectators out there know the same thing. I won't have you embarrassing me on my own circuit by letting me win."
Everyone let's you win you little piece of shit, Arya wants to snap back. But she opens her mouth and tries to speak as sweetly as Sansa. "I don't know what you mean, Joffrey. I didn't see that ditch coming, and when I crashed into it, I lost my speed." She takes a step closer. Being so close to Joffrey makes bile churn in her stomach. But she won't let him intimidate her. "Maybe you should do a better job of keeping your circuit clean and paved."
"Don't you dare accuse me of negligence."
"Oh, I'm not accusing you of negligence. I'm accusing whoever you pay to keep this circuit in order of negligence."
"I am in charge of this circuit."
"Well then." Arya crosses her arms. "I guess it is your fault. Why don't you try fixing the road before throwing another four racers onto it."
Joffrey narrows his eyes and steps forward. "You are edging dangerously close to suspension from this circuit."
"What for?"
"For being a pesky, little bitch."
Arya suppresses the urge to step on Joffery's foot and punch him in the nose. "I'm sorry, Joffrey. I was just suggesting that if you wanted to win in a fair race, you could make sure the conditions are in perfect order. Now if you don't mind, I'm tired and would like to head home."
"Fine," Joffrey snaps. "Be here next Friday. If you lose again, you're off the circuit. If you lose on purpose, I'll fucking run you out of San Diego and strip your car of its parts. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly. Good night, Joffrey."
"Fuck," Arya screams as her car slams back down onto the pavement. She's been practicing all week, trying to perfect the trick Jon taught her, but she can't keep the car in the air for long than four seconds. It'll take at least five to pass someone in a race.
"Why don't we take a break?" Gendry asks from the passenger seat. He looks a little nauseous. Probably from being in Arya's car for three hours straights as she lifts it vertically.
"No," Arya says firmly. "I have to race again in two days, and I want to have this trick down cold before that happens. You are more than welcome to go home, and I can keep practicing by myself.
Gendry laughs. "Yes, because that worked out so well last time."
"I don't know why you insist on babysitting me. I'm not a child." Even though you might look at me like one, Arya thinks. It's been almost a week since they've kissed, and Arya hasn't dared to broach the topic again. She's too nervous to get shot down.
"I'm not babysitting you. I'm just making sure you don't get yourself killed."
"You do realize that if I crash this car, I'll kill you too, right?"
"Well then please don't crash the car." Gendry glances at Arya. "You still haven't paid me for the parts from the last time you crashed it. I can't afford to fix it again."
Arya looks at Gendry guiltily. She feels terrible that she hasn't paid him back yet, but if she takes any more money from her account, her parents will get suspicious. And she knows Gendry doesn't really have the money to spare. "I know," she says. "I'm sorry. But if I get this trick down, I will definitely win the race on Friday. And I'll bet on myself and make plenty of money from winning. Enough to pay you back and enough to afford my motel."
"Your motel?"
"Yeah." Arya bites her lip. "Yesterday was my last night. I'm out of cash."
"So where are you going to sleep tonight?"
"Sansa's."
"Arya," Gendry says, leaning over in the seat. "You can't sleep at Sansa's."
"Why not?"
"What if Joffrey comes over?"
"Fuck. Of course you're right." And I can't sleep at Jon's, she thinks, because he's still pissed at me for racing. There's no way I can ask him to help me out even more than I already have. "I guess I'll just sleep in my car then. It'll only be a couple nights, and then I'll win the race and have plenty of money."
"Don't be an idiot. You'll sleep at my place."
Arya looks at Gendry, his blue eyes serious. "I don't know, Gendry." Just the thought of sleeping in his apartment makes her pulse race. She's still hasn't been to his place. But if she sleeps there, she'll see where he sleeps, where he showers. A knot of desire tightens in her stomach. She licks her lip. "Maybe that's not such a good idea."
"Why not?"
"Well. I just. I don't know." Arya looks out the window and then back to Gendry. "Are you sure I wouldn't be imposing?"
"What a polite question from, Arya Stark."
"Shut up."
"And you spoiled it." Gendry leans closer and grabs Arya's hand. Her skin feels heated. "But, no, Arya. You would not be imposing. I see you all day anyways. I don't think it'll make a difference if you sleep at my apartment too."
Arya pulls her hand away. She gets too distracted whenever he touches her. "All right. If you insist." She grabs the gearshift and pulls the car into drive. "But before our sleepover, I'm going to practice the trick at least ten more times." Arya glances at Gendry. "Please don't throw up in my car."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Gendry says, all while slouching down in the seat and grabbing his stomach.
"God, that was delicious," Arya says, pushing the plate away from her. She's been living on a fast food diet for weeks now. She forgot what home cooked meals tasted like.
"Thanks," Gendry replies. He's still finishing off his third portion of stir-fry. "It was too expensive to eat out all the time, so I had to learn how to cook."
"I'm impressed. The most I can make is cereal. Sometimes I get really intense and cook up some ramen noodles."
Gendry smiles. "Yeah, I don't really see you as the domestic type. But then again- it'd be funny to see you with your hair all done up and an apron around your waist."
Arya throws her napkin at Gendry. "Shut it."
Gendry puts on a high, mock voice. "Oh, your tea will be ready in just a minute, Mr. Waters. Can I rub your feet, Mr. Waters? Shall I run you a bath, Mr. Waters?"
Arya picks up a spare noodle from her plate and flings it at Gendry's face. It sticks right to his cheek. "I said, shut it," she says, blushing.
"All right, all right." Gendry picks up their plates and walks over to the sink. "But come on, you could at least help me with the dishes. I did cook for you."
"Fine," Arya mutters. She walks over to the sink and starts washing the dishes, handing them to Gendry to dry as she goes. A few dishes in, she gives a gigantic yawn. Nymeria looks up from the floor and cocks her head to the side. "I'm just tired," Arya tells her.
"Long day?" Gendry asks.
"I woke up at seven. Thought I'd get some extra practice in before you started pestering me. Don't worry, though. Nothing dangerous or especially life-threatening."
Gendry smirks. "Of course not. Well, we can go to sleep soon if you want. I have to work early in the morning anyways." He turns to Arya and looks down at her. Sometimes Arya forgets how tall he is. When they're standing this close, he towers over her. "Here's the thing," Gendry says. "We'll have to share the bed."
Arya starts blushing furiously. She wishes she didn't do that so easily. "We-" she sputters. "What? I mean- I can sleep on-"
Gendry starts laughing as Arya continues to stutter and blush. He doubles over and holds his stomach. When he finally stands up, there are few tears leaking out of his blue eyes. "God. The look on your face. I was kidding, Arya. I'll sleep on the couch." He starts laughing again. "I didn't know you'd be so terrified to share a bed with me. I'm not that horrible, am I?"
"I wasn't-" Arya starts stuttering again. Of course she wasn't scared. She was worried and embarrassed. How would she be able to control herself with Gendry in a bed next to her. "I wasn't terrified. You just took me by surprise. And there's no way I'm going to let you sleep on the couch. It's your apartment. I'll take the couch."
"Don't be stupid. You have to race in two days. Take the bed. You need rest."
"No. You take the bed," Arya retorts again. "Stop being so stubborn." Her and Gendry stare at each other for a few seconds before they both seem to have the same idea at the same time.
Arya gets a head start. She shoves Gendry to the side before racing towards the living room. She dives straight for the couch and lands with a thump. She tries to lie down so that she can take up the whole couch, but Gendry is right behind her, and he jumps next to her. "Off the couch," he yells, tickling her sides.
Arya starts laughing and rolling around. "Stop," she gasps as Gendry continues to tickle her.
"Nope," Gendry laughs, his eyes sparkling. "Not until you promise to take the bed."
"Never!" Arya jumps forward and starts attacking Gendry, climbing on top of him so that she can tickle his neck. They continue to tickle each other until Arya is completely out of breath and red in the face. "All right!" Arya finally gasps. "I give up. You win!"
"Victory!" Gendry yells.
She's suddenly very aware that she's straddling Gendry and that their limbs are twisted together. He looks at her, and the knot of desire grows. Their bodies are flushed and pressed together. If she leaned down just a little bit further, she could press a kiss to his full lips. Gendry's thumb absentmindedly traces her lower back where her shirt has slipped up. The bare skin tingles under his touch.
Slowly, Arya starts to lean forward, but Gendry clears his throat. "So you should get to bed then."
Arya's stomach drops. How could she be so stupid for a second time? She's literally on top of him. If Gendry wanted her, he would have done something about it. "Right," she says, trying her best to make her voice sound normal. "Bed." She awkwardly dismounts and heads down the hallway towards the bedroom. "Good night, Gendry."
A few hours later, Arya is still wide-awake. She changed into an oversize t-shirt and biking shorts. But despite Gendry's bed being comfortable, she can't sleep. All she can do is think about him. She rolls over and groans into the pillow. Fuck, she thinks, frustrated, even the pillow smells like him. I shouldn't be thinking about Gendry, I should be thinking about the race on Friday. She knew it was a bad idea to sleep over. She should have listened to her own advice.
Groaning, she rolls over again and stares at the ceiling fan as it spins round and round. She stays like that for a few minutes before hearing footsteps in the hallway. They get closer and closer, and Arya grips the comforters, half-scared, half-excited. The doorknob turns and a dark shadow edges into the room.
Arya sits up. "Gendry?" She whispers.
The figure gets closer until she can see Gendry in the dim light. He's shirtless, and his bare skin looks hallow in the moonlight. Arya shivers.
"Gendry?" She repeats.
"Sorry," he whispers. He lifts up the covers and Arya automatically moves over so that he can slide into bed. "It was my first time trying to sleep on that couch. Apparently, it's fucking uncomfortable as hell."
"Oh," Arya says softly. It's a small bed. Their shoulders are just barely touching, yet her whole body is warm.
"I hope you don't really mind sharing."
"No," Arya says. "I don't mind at all."
A/N – Sorry for the cliché bed-sharing scene, but let's be real, we all love it.
As always, thank you for reading. I got some wonderful, LONG reviews from you guys last chapter, and I really appreciated the time you took to write them.
I think next chapter is going to be a San /San FYI