Ride or Die

▫️4▫️

This might be the first loss I've had in a while. Something about this guy makes my confidence in my abilities shrink away, and my abilities themselves seem small.

But now is not the time to back out. I'm going to race.

After a few moments of preparation both of us our on our motorcycles, waiting anxiously for the race to start. The bleachers are much busier, many more than usual are here to watch this race. It's an important one, because apparently this guy has made a pretty good name for himself. I'm pretty sure it's a guy.

People begin to quiet down as Kaiden announces the race.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our two racers tonight are racing for one thousand four hundred dollars! Please take your final seats. The race will begin in ten, nine, eight, seven, six..." The countdown continues as cheers build up and my muscles bunch up in anticipation.

"Five, four, three, two, one, GO!" The race begins. Both of us speed down the track, which curves through the woods around the original area. Our motorcycles are incredibly loud, and at the beginning we are neck ad neck. I turn to look at him for a split second, and all I see is the dull reflection of my own helmet in the side of his. I don't think he's looked at me yet.

Throughout the race we were even. But in the last straight path to the finish, his motorcycle gradually moves until it is in front of mine. If I had any optimism before this race, it's gone now. Adrenaline begins pumping faster and faster as I press down as hard as I can on the gas and suddenly I'm forced backward because I zoom right past him, winning the race by a landslide. I pump my fist into the air and laugh victoriously, overwhelmed.

The dude doesn't stop to look at me and instead walks away.

"I believe this is the first race he's lost in a while." Kaiden says behind me. I turn around and see the cash in his hand.

"Really? I can see why. He's good. I honestly thought he had it." I admit.

"Well, you still won. Here is the one thousand four hundred." He gives me the money.

Now, what shall I do with this? Perhaps I'll touch up my motorcycle or put it into my college fund.

Probably both.

After every race, normally I meet up and tell them good, fair race. But the mysterious guy was gone, along with any trace of knowledge of what his identity holds.

**

I lay in bed, thinking of the weird encounter with this strange racer.

He was tall, probably about six-foot-two, which is way taller than my measly five-foot-eight. However I do feel tall compared to other girls in my school, most of which are five-foot-six or shorter. Admittedly, it gets quite annoying at times, but it's also enjoyable to tower over people that try to fuck with me. Especially, recently, people like Lily, who looks to only be about five-foot-five.

I toss and turn, trying to ignore the burning curiosity and eventually pushing it to the back of my head. I play my favorite song in my head, and finally I fall into the peaceful darkness.

**

The first thing I do when my alarm clock wakes me up is massage my temples.

"Damn it." I mutter under my breath. Never enough sleep.

I repeat the dreaded cycle that I experience every day and walk out into my kitchen. Feeing a sudden impulse, I yank open one of the drawers in the kitchen and look at the aged frame.

She smiles back at me through the frame, and I bring it to my chest, feeling drops on my sleeve-covered arms.

I bring up a hand to wipe my eye, and as I retract it I see black ink all over my fingers.