Street Racer (Monthly Updates-For Now)

Chapter 11: Meeting the Team

 "Sissy," Riley tugs on my arm as we walk through the hallways of the stadium. "We've gotta go to the gift shop remember? The lines!"

"I know Ry, but I've got a little surprise for you guys. Think you can hold out for a few minutes?"

"That depends," he says skeptically. "What's the surprise?"

I scoff, "Don't you have any faith in me?"

He shrugs, causing Brandon and Marc to start laughing.

"Don't worry kid," Marc tells him. "I think you'll like this surprise."

Riley narrows his eyes slightly, before dragging his finger across his lip and tossing his hand over his shoulder. Effectively telling us that he's shutting up. The guys look to me with amused curiosity.

"Haven't seen that in a while," Marc smirks. "He do that a lot?"

"They both do," I chuckle lightly. "The joys of raising twin eight year olds."

Marc and Brandon look at each other quickly, a message passing though their gazes, before looking back in front of them. They tend to do that a lot, talking without talking. It's a little unnerving. I'm wondering why the need for secrecy when I replay what I said and it hits me. I said that I'm raising the twins. They probably assumed that we moved here with our parents, and I just basically told them they're out of the picture. At least they didn't ask a million and one questions, just had a small silent conversation. Well if they're not going to bring it up, then neither am I.

From my internet exploration of the stadium before we moved here, I know that the private viewing rooms are on the second floor, right above the stands. We're halfway up the stairs when Carly tugs on my hand.

"Sissy, Marc has different colored eyes," she whispers.

"Yeah, he does," I whisper back.

"Did it hurt getting them like that?"

"His eyes were born that way munchkin."

"Oh," she frowns. "How come all eyes aren't like that then?"

"It's a genetic thing," I smile at her. "How about this, you can ask Marc all the questions you want when we get to our seats, but if he doesn't feel comfortable answering them, don't push."

"Ok, Sissy."

Marc looks back at me with a smirk. He sends me a wink before turning back around to lead us down the hallway. The twins are silent the rest of the way down the hall, their faces alight with wondrous curiosity. We soon come to what I assume is out room, and Marc opens the door, holding it open for us to walk in.

The twins grip my hands tightly as the three of us maneuver through the small door opening only meant for two at most. The room is about as big as our living room back home, and the first thing I see is the large plexiglass window that takes up most of the wall in front of us. In front of the window is a small coffee table and a large black couch. There's a large flat screen T.V. in the two corners on opposite sides of the window, which I'm assuming will also show the game for those who don't want to get up and look through the window. To the right of the door we entered through, there's a large table holding an assortment of pastries and breakfast items, along with various drink options. Near the right wall, there's an armchair next to a closed door.

Looking back around the room a second time, I notice things that I didn't get a chance to see the first time. Like the fact that there's already people in here! Corey's leaning against a side table that's placed under the T.V. on the right side of the window, his arms crossed in front of him as a smirk plays on his face. His light blue t-shirt and tan cargo pants mold well against his trim body.There's also an unknown man sitting in the chair by the door. His tan skin and almond shaped eyes, shielded by thin black framed glasses, makes me think he has a Native American background. His jet black hair hangs straight down his back, stopping at the top of his shoulders; his hair is parted perfectly down the middle. He's wearing a black t-shirt that's tight around the muscles in his biceps, and a pair of dark blue jeans. His eyes are a piercing dark brown as they stare at me before looking lower to the twins.