Ecstasy

Chapter 3

The engine roar. Check. The wheels turn. Check. The wipers work. The fuck do I even check that for? Well, at least they work. I step out of the car to wait on the others. It's an easy route, starting by the court house, for the irony of course, around the block, under the bridge, through the park for some fun, and then back. Can't believe that that Eric guy bet two hundred grand on this crap.

"You smoke?" Another competitive holds out a packet of cigarettes to me.
"Sometimes, but not tonight. Thanks though." I decline. He shrugs and puts one in his mouth, lighting it. He is big, with broad shoulders and tall frame. Black hair is on the edge of needing a hair tie, and he has established quite the beard. It goes well with his tattoos.

A green car, that I can smell cartoon puke from long way, stops in front of us. The driver comes out, a teenage boy with sunglasses in the middle of the night. What a genius.

Swag master doesn't give us a single look, he just turns his SnapBack backwards over his brown hair. I watch him in the corner of my eye, before turning to fully stare at him, since he obviously doesn't give a shit. Low hanging jeans, black tank top that looks way to cold to wear without a jacket even if it's summer. Guess he wanna show off to the ladies. If there even came any.

Two more shows up, and the color scheme of our cars is rather laughable. My pink car, as stereotypic as it sounds, the asshole's green, the black haired guy, who I've named Marcus in my head,'s black, another girl's purple and some nervous wreck's sky blue.

The people who put us here comes walking, all dressed up like they came from dinner at a five star restaurant. They probably did.
"Okey, let's get this over with." A brat with brown hair, water combed to the side, and a long grey coat speaks up, his arm wrapped around a slim Latina girl, wearing a red coat with a grey fur thrown over her shoulder, red lip matching her wear. She giggles and he looks proud, pulling her face down to snog her. Let me guess, he pays the asshole in sunnies, right?

We get into our cars, and Eric walks over to me. I roll down the window on the passages side.
"You know our deal." You mean your deal, which I didn't have any saying in.
"Yeah." I nod. He backs off and I roll up the window.

One of the boys with too much money walks up in front of the cars. He holds up one arm. Everyone turns off the parking break. Second arm up, and we rush our engines. He lets them both fall. Marcus gets first away, then purple girl, me, asshole and lastly the last guy, who I know nothing off, except that he is male and that he's pretty good. Good enough to be competition.

As far as the street goes I press my baby to go faster and faster, before heavily breaking at the corner to sharply turn. I pass the purple girl for two seconds before she passes me again to her original spot. We get to the straight course before the bridge that holds the highway. You can drive down under it, but you are not supposed to. Perfect for racing. I push the gas a little further, keeping my eyes on the easily disappearing car in front of me.

Suddenly I see a flash of green to my right, and the brat crashes into my side, full force and fully on purpose. My car flies up on the leaning that is after the railing to the road, flipping to its back. Sparks fly as the roof drag against the asphalt, and I watch it, slightly horrified, as I try to stay in my seat. Finally it stops, but I can feel heat raise from the back of the car.

Quick as hell I remove my seatbelt, using my hands to catch myself when I'm finally loose. I try to open the door, but of course it's stuck. This is like a bad action movie. I kick and kick to break the glass. Thank God I didn't choose to have reinforced windows. The glass finally shatters and I climb out, as I feel the smell of burning gasoline filling the car. The tank is on fire, and the whole back is burning for some reason.
"Shit." I mutter as I stand up, watching my baby completely crashed, windows shattered, the paint scraped and filled with dents. Eric's gonna be after my ass now.

I look around me. No one's around at the moment. It's better that way. I look back at the car. If I only had something to further make it explode. That would maybe convince him I died.

Something wet run down my leg. I look down. My shin is scraped up and bloody. Perfect. Wonder why I didn't notice until now.

Walking like a zombie I scurry away from the crash site, hoping no one saw me, and that Eric will believe that I died. Or at least got hurt badly enough to not be worth going after. Where the hell am I going to sleep? I can't go home, he surely knows where I live, and he got Nicole wrapped around his finger. She would surely tell him if he doesn't. Checking in on a hotel is out of the question, I have no money, and if I told them my name for my account you could bet your ass he would be there before dawn.

But what other options do I actually have? All my friends are in one way or another linked to my drag racing. Actually, anyone at all that I hang out with is linked to my underworld activities.

I look at the alley way I've come to. It's dark, it's filthy, but if it's good enough for the homeless, the it sure is good enough for me. Pulling my jacket closed, I look for the darkest corner. The harder it is for me to see, the harder it'll be for them to find me. I don't know about this Eric guy, but I know that if he bets at drag racing, then he's a man with resources. Resources I don't wanna know of or ever meet.

With a last doubting look at the ground I lay down, my hands clasped together like in prayer, if I ever went to church, under my head. Now I know how goddam cold it is under summer nights.