the speed of love

chapter nine • pedro's qualms

-----------------

I think I'm on my sixth bottle of shitty American beer, I'm not sure though. I stopped counting about four ago.

I'd like to think of myself as a pretty rational person when I'm not racing, but right now, right now is definitely an outlier.

At this point, the alcohol has total control over me, I can't think on my own. I turn on the TV, needing something to blur out my thoughts. A crutch.

Man, beer really takes the pressure out of life.

I look over at my phone, which has been buzzing non stop since I exited FP1.

Now, instead of my Father calling me obsessively, it's Kiya.

I can't answer in a state like this, I'm hammered.

Suddenly, the familiar buzzing sound stops. Out of curiosity, I pick up my phone to see why.

I see the latest text from Kiya, which read:

Kiya:
I'm worried about you. I got your hotel information from Pedro and I'm heading there now.

Shit. I can't get out of this one.

I can't not answer the door, she'd call the police or something. If I answer the door I'd probably do something really stupid. Crap.

I look to see when that text was sent.

7 minutes ago.

She's probably already here.

I start panicking and try to collect all the beer bottles and Chardonnay I had drank earlier. I had somehow also lost my shirt, so that was another factor.

I scramble to collect myself, when I hear a knock on the door.

"Shit. shit. shit." I mutter.

I throw the last bottle on the table, making the others crash and land on my bare foot, which starts bleeding.

"Fuck!" I exclaim.

Now there's blood on my foot and somehow on my chest, I'm still shirtless and Kiya is probably ready to call the Canadian police on me.

I take a deep breath.

I'm already drunk. There's no point in hiding it now.

I push my hair back, try to wipe off the blood, and open the door.

I open the door, to Kiya standing there, looking ever so worried.

"W-what the hell?" Kiya exclaims. "Do you get into a.. Bar fight?" She questions.

My mouth hangs open as she steps into the room and closes the door behind her.

"Uhmm" I say.

"Are you drunk?!" She says.

"Uhh."

"This rooms a mess. Where the hell did your shirt go?" She continues again.

I shrug and slouch down on the couch.

She sighs and kicks a beer bottle.

"What's gotten into you Mack?" She asks softly, lowering her voice.

I shake my head, not being able to form words.

I shiver, feeling my surroundings for the first time in hours. I can feel Kiya's eyes scanning my chest, and abs.

Kiya sets down here things on a table near the entrance. I stand up from the couch, inching closer to Kiya.

"How much have you drank?" She asked.

I shake my head, not knowing.

"So you can't answer any of my questions? Great." She rolls her eyes.

I take a step closer to her, feeling heat radiate off of her.

She looks away for a second, "Look Mack. You have more races, there's no need to get drunk.. or whatever over having a silly little stalemate with my dad.."

She trails off, looking back and making eye contact with me.

"You haven't even said a word since I've been here, wow alco-"

"I can say one thing Kiya." I say suddenly.

She frowns and looks at me.

"And what is that?" She says sarcastically.

"I like you. And honestly, I don't know if it's just the alcohol talking or I finally built up the courage, but-"

I look up from the ground to see a smile on Kiya's face.

I continue, "Seriously, I mean, you've helped me out so much and I really-"

I see Kiya smiling hugely, "Just shut up and drunkenly kiss me already." She says.

Before Kiya gets the last word out, I grab her hand and kiss her. I smile, as she reciprocated the kiss, and she grabs the back of my neck.

The room heats up, and I get pushed back into the wall. I position my hand on her back, until I hear a phone ringing.

"Shit." Kiya says.

She breaks from the kiss and directs her attention to the coffee table, where here phone is ringing.

She looks at me apologetically and picked up her phone, it was Pedro.

I let out the breath I've been holding, and watch Kiya answer her Father.

I watch Kiya's face contort as Pedro continues to talk to her on the phone.

I stand there waiting, before she motions she needs to go.

I make face. I raise my eyebrows, and she mouths "sorry" and walks out the door.

God damn, am I just really drunk, or did that happen?

I flop myself on the couch, and pick up my phone.

Nothing happened in the 4 minutes that Kiya was in my hotel room.

I sigh, not knowing what do do next. Where to go from here.

Suddenly, I remember. I have buddy in Canada. Maybe I'll talk with him. Catch up.

I mean, what else am I going to do?

I call up Nick, my friend from karting back in the day. He lives here in Montreal, and it would be nice to catch up.

The phone is ringing...

"Hey! Nick? This is Mack!" I say.

"Yoo Mack!" He responds back.

"What's up? I'm in Montreal for a couple of days and want to catch up."

"Awesome, yeah! What brings you here?"

"Racing, actually, but I wanted to catch up in a different way."

"Alright man, what are you thinking?"

"Uh, like a club? I need some time to let myself loose."

"Tell me where your staying. I'll be there in 10."

Nick hangs up.

Guess I'm going clubbing.