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10||Go

1K reads that's pretty rad(awesome) guys. So from here, I believe the story will pick up dramatically as like these next three chapters are seriously...dramatic. Well anyway enjoy it guys xx

"Where is she?"

"If I tell you where she is, he'll put a bullet through my skull. Do you want to have my blood on your sweaty palms? Or do you want to follow my precise instructions on finding your sister?"

The sweat slides in one fat droplet down my cheek before my head collides gently into the glass doors of the telephone booth. My free right hand balls into a fist before I bang it into the telephone booth.

"Tell me what I need to know" Sighing I mutter the words feeling ultimate defeat.

"CUT"

Everyone is clapping from like two lines especially my step sister who I brought throw time around for a day on set.

"Baby no one puts you in the corner"

"Camden, you can't seriously keep calling me that. I'm twenty two years old-"

"So am I. You're the only person I know who cries every time Patrick Swayze utters that line on Dirty Dancing"

Rolling my eyes, Camden is laughing, her face falls on to my collarbone as her honey streaks are pressed against my nose.

"I'm glad it's lunch time. I'm tired of watching you talk into a telephone that's attached to a booth"

"Camden, please stop being yourself today"

She begins to bounce as I take my motorcycle keys from one of the assistants running around this campus and then two helmets from another assistant. Jace keeps telling me to get my own but I couldn't bare anyone running around for me as I like to do all the running around my own damn self.

"May you put mine on me?"

Shaking my head, I pull the cherry red helmet over her hair, reaching my finger in the visor area to poke the icy blue eyes she shares with her mother. Camden is my sister. And we were the same sassy monsters.

But most importantly, she was highly competitive. Since we are the same age for 364 days of the year, her birthday a day before mine, we challenge each other every opportunity there is.

"Don't race me to go eat Cam" I say sliding on to the violet and black motorcycle as she sits on the exact same one inches away from me.

Camden doesn't listen, lacing her black boots and pointing at me.

"Don't race me"

"I'm not racing you" Camden pulls down the clear visor.

"I'm just saying I'm gonna get there before you that's all"

"Cam-"

Camden drives away and I instantly follow her. I guess we were still stupid youths weaving in and out of traffic. This is town is practically barren, the same people I grew up with are starting their families, no new faces. I wave at a couple of people as I line up behind Camden.

The town is full of long roads, so there wouldn't be a load of traffic lights for most of the trip.

I pull up beside her, she's a bit surprised because the place we are eating at is in the near distance.

"Stop racing"

"Never"

I shake my head swiftly brushing pass her as we both pull into the lot of the restaurant. Camden tosses her helmet on the gravel in frustration as I pull mine off.

"I made it here first"

"No you didn't"

"Yes I did baby"

"Hey my girls"

Both of us turn to stare at my father standing with his stubby hands jammed in his light blue jeans. I don't know who made his man shift to skinny jeans but they were oddly working on him. Most importantly he broke apart the fight that was about to ensue.

Seems like things have not changed.

"Can you tell baby I won?"

"No you didn't Camden. You didn't win. You lost"

"Alright settle down, let's just eat alright? Can I spend time with my daughters while they're both here and not play referee?"

I was reluctant as Camden shoves me playfully before pulling me into a hug. Something my father made us do after every game we played until we were happy again. We would sit for hours growling at each other in a warm embrace.

But we were seated and working on a plate of French fries until our food was to be brought out.

"Kimberley is pretty fantastic Dad"

"Yeah of course I am" I smile at Camden.

"Of course. Of course. So how's everything been?"

I look down at my fingers before I look back up at the two pair of blue eyes staring me down. They were ready to interrogate and rip apart every aspect of my life.

"It's alright"

"Spill"

I tell them everything about Cheryl because that's my only problem these days. There were a lot of judgements all faces on certain parts, including me picking up the phone the other day. It was agreed that could've been avoided but I'm stupid. This according to Camden. Of course.

"Well," My father uses a napkin to wipe his hands of the salt and grease from the fries.

"I think it's time"

"Time for what?"

"Do you remember what I told you? You and Cheryl about how you guys won't last because neither of you are serious-"

"I don't remember it being along those lines-"

"Well you two were an enormous mess"

Looking up at my father shrugging, Camden lays her head on his jean shirt covered shoulder as he begins to carry on and on about the question I needed to be answered most in life.

"Yes I second that. When you two went out late one of those nights that summer and we had to come get you from the station-"

"Camden, now is not the time to bring up my past" I grit my teeth together as my father doesn't know the story of how Cheryl and I took a late night stroll on one of the beaches, a stroll- actually I mean was riding my motorcycle through the sand.

"We will talk about that later-but I mean obviously you can see how much the two of you are hurting. Every moment you share now is ridden with guilt. And Cheryl at this point seems like she's not going to fight because she's comfortable so make her uncomfortable"

I stay quiet during the rest of our lunch, saying I am thinking over the next scene that we have to shoot but I'm thinking about her. My cheeseburger grows cold as I only take sips of my root beer and I have to get it to go.

"Meet you back home"

The both of them wave me goodbye, pulling off in their own vehicles before I pull out my phone and do something I don't think I would ever do.

Call for a private plane at the airport.

My father had given me a backpack when we sat down as I forgot it at home and I think that should be enough for me to fly back to England. I know my passport stays in there as well as my wallet, I can get clothes when I get there but I do have a gray hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants.

I don't have much time, possibly five days before we start back filming again but that should be enough time for me to go see her and bring her back with me.

I'm going.

I'm going.

I am going.