HEART RACER

★{ SEVEN } ★

•TITTLE•
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Concert
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ITS...a few hours later and badas car rolls up in front of my house to drop me off.

As we sat there in comfortable silence, I reached for the door handle, ready to head inside. But just as I started to get out, Bada hopped out of the driver's seat and hurried around to open my door for me. "Such a gentleman," I teased.

"Only for you," she shot back with a wink.

Before I could make a witty comeback, Bada gently turned me around and pulled me into a quick hug. I froze in my spot, caught off guard by the sudden gesture. But after a few seconds, I regained my composure and smiled, wrapping my arms around her. The hug was longer and tighter than I expected , as if neither of us wanted to let go.

"Soo...whats this for ?" I murmured into her shoulder.

"Just felt like it," Bada replied softly, her voice warm and sincere. "You know, sometimes you need a reminder that you're appreciated."

I laughed in her shoulder then pulled back slightly to look at her. "You're so random Bada. But thanks, I needed that."

"Anytime, Zoe. Anytime," she said, giving me one last squeeze before letting go.

As I walked towards my house, I turned back to see her still standing by the car, watching me with a soft smile. "Drive safe, you dork!" I called out, grinning.

"Will do, sexy!" she shouted back, then followed it by a wink.

All I could do was shake my head and wave one last time before heading inside, feeling a warm glow that lasted long after Bada had driven away.

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The next morning, Jamie and I were in our pottery class, sleeves rolled up and hands covered in clay. We were both attempting to make cute bowls for ourselves since it was our project for the week.

"Alright, Zoe, how's your bowl coming along?" Jamie asked, glancing over at my wheel.

I grimaced as I looked at the lopsided mess spinning in front of me. "Well, it's definitely... unique."

Jamie laughed, shaking her head. "Unique is one way to put it. Mine isn't looking much better, though." He held up his own creation, which looked more like a misshapen vase than a bowl.

"At least we're in this together," I said, trying to reshape my bowl with little success. "Seriously, how do people make this look so easy?"

"Practice, I guess," Jamie shrugged. "Or maybe they just have magical pottery powers that we weren't born with."

I giggled. "Yeah, I think we missed out on those genes."

We both worked in silence for a few minutes, the whirring of the pottery wheels the only sound in the room. I could feel Jamie's concentration beside me, and it made me focus a bit more on my own work. Despite the struggle, it was kind of fun—messy, but fun.

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After pottery class, Jamie and I headed home. It was our last class of the day, so we were both eager to unwind a bit. The session had been fun, but my hands were covered in clay, and I was itching to wash up.