TOO FAST 01;
My Celica contrasted significantly, when I looked back at it, aside from about twelve other cars resting on the northern side of the parking lot. I felt particularly awkward walking past the owners of the exotic rides. A GTO. A Ferrari. A Civic Si Coupe. Their drivers were leaning defnesively against their respective hoods. One spot left in between them. No doubt it would be filled with another beautiful ride. "Hey!" A burlier guy called to me, as I passed, "Hey! Wait up!" His footsteps clap against the sidewalk behind me, keeping quick tempo. I ignored him, straightening the tie of my new Pillamond uniform. He jogged around and put two hands out to hault me. "New kid?" He accused. I nodded. "Nice GT." I smiled at his compliment. I did do a pretty good job of maintaining that thing. "Thanks."
"Ever race it?"
I furrowed an eyebrow. Was this guy insane? Did I look like Jeff Gordon to him? "Nahh, man." He shook his head in clear disappointment. "What a shame. Those are sweet wheels though. Let me know if you change your mind." I bobbed my head politely, not wanting to make enemies my first day. "I'll be sure to do that." I watched him shlump back to his buddies, before continuing on in. I couldn't help but glance back one more time, when the roar of yet another pushy jock's car roared into the last remaining parking spot. The other boys echoed: "Monsterrr!" Apparently "Monster" was their leader. His black Lamborghini Diablo was a complete eye catcher. Stupid little rich boy. Suddenly, I felt relieved that I hadn't tried very hard to fall in line with those guys. They didn't seem so innocent. And plus, didn't "diablo" translate into "devil"?
My first couple classes were uneventful. I hadn't spoken a single word to anyone, except for "Here" during role call. Then came the highly anticipated fourth period. The halfway mark. One more period until lunch. Phsycology. My teacher, Mr. Partridge assigned me a seat next to the window. I rolled my eyes. Another lazy teacher who sat kids alphabetically so that taking attendance would be less painstaking.
I felt a little geeky for being there about four minutes before the bell rang, but honestly, I had no one to talk to. No books to put away. What was the point? I'd much rather stare out this window at absolutely nothing (Note sarcasm). I figured I'd make friends in time. There was no rush.
Students were filing in now, breaking my concentrated gaze. I looked around. No one interested me. They were all completely boring. Or bored. It was difficult to distinguish the difference between the two. Then I saw a girl. A beautiful one. Her honey-soaked, curly, brown hair barely passed her shoulders. Her radiant green eyes gleemed from under her umbrella of bangs. She had a tan supermodels were striving to perfect. She sat in front of me. I tried not to look at her. She was surely trouble. I could tell by the way she walked. Her confidence reverberated. I hoped Mr. Partridge would call her name, just so I would know what it was. No such luck. "So it seems everyone is here." I cringed at the sound of his raspy, pigeon voice. It was nails to a chalkboard. "I'll assign books, and that's about it."
One by one Mr. P would call my classmates up. Goodrich. Garwin. Hart. Johnson. "Luxe Jeffers." The teacher called. She didn't respond. Her head was down on the desk with no sign of coming up. "Luxe Jeffers." He repeated, obviously aggitated. "I'm sorry, Miss Jeffers. Do you prefer Monster?" She finally sat up, and I scrunched my nose. "No. I don't actually." Her tone was harsh, and I'd never heard it until now. It was unreal.
It took several moments before something finally clicked. She was the egotistic jock leader. The one that drove the Lambo. I stared her down as she reapproached her seat, not caring if she caught me. "Joseph Jonas." I stood up immediately, passing her in the aisle, unable to break eye contact. She smirked, satisfied with that fact that I'd been watching her so intently. Egotistic wasn't an understatement.
I signed my book out, and took my seat in silence. Saying anything to Luxe Jeffers would be completely irrelevant and a waste of my time. I didn't know her, and she most certainly didn't know me. A tiny beep, could be heard from her purse, and she reached down to retrieve it. I didn't make it a point to read over her shoulder. Like I said: I didn't know her. She twisted around quickly though, smiling brightly. Her flawless teeth were a crest white. "I'm Luxe." She introduced, extending a delicate hand to me. "Joe." I said, humoring her. "My friend Jacob tells me you're pushing a pretty nice ride." I shrugged modestly. "I think your Diablo tops my Celica, Monster." She chuckled lowly. "Anyways. You race?" I shook my head. That was the second time I'd been asked. Did this school have some kind of conspiracy going on or what? "Nah. I don't."
The bell rang, and she shoved her book into her bag before fleeing the room. "Hey, slow your roll!" I shouted, tying to match my pace with hers. She did a quarter turn, waiting for me. "Why's everyone into racing cars around here?" She bit her lip, and studied my face as if she was debating on whether she could trust me or not. "You want in, you race. Plain and simple." Her vague explanation left me baffled. "Like organized racing on a track?" She laughed. "Nah, new boy. I'm talking D.L. racing on the streets." My calmed expression became completely flabbergasted when I'd put two and two together. "You're insane!" Another crazy chuckled escaped her. "No, I'm power hungry."
Despite her unusual/tremendously illegal hobby, I couldn't help but feel thoroughly intrigued.
You got the wrong girl.
She's gonna drive you to insanity.
You're living in her world.
And In her world there's no limits.
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