Adrenalin

Chapter 5 - Sydney

Heh heh. It's so hard to patiently build their relationship when I just want them to kissss. Anyway, enjoy! Message me any suggestions xxx
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I peer out the passenger-side window and check out my competition. A ‘67 Camaro. That thing was built to take on the Ford Mustang, so basically I have no hope. My Supra isn’t even meant for drag racing, but I knew how to handle her just right. As long as I time the starting right, and as long as this dude isn’t packing nitrous, then I should win.
        Someone taps on my window, jolting me out of my thoughts. I roll down the window and find myself looking at Mr Hazel Eyes. He opens the door and rests his arm on the car above his head. His muscles flex and I try not to notice.
          “Hey, Goth Girl.”
          I raise an eyebrow. “What do you want?”
        “The life of my boat rests on your shoulders, so try not to stuff this up. I’ve got a lot money bet on you. Now, if you just remember to drop the clutch exactly when –,”
         I hold a hand up. “Don’t tell me how to race. And get the fuck off my car.”
        He throws his hands up in defense, a cocky grin on his face. I scowl and slam the door shut again. So much for thinking he was all right...
        A girl in cut-off shorts and a tight white singlet stands in front of the two cars. She points to him first and he revs his engine, signalling he’s ready. The sound pounds in my ear and my heart threatens to jump out of my chest. I rev my engine when the chick points to me. It sounds pitiful next to the Camaro. I swallow hard, rolling my neck and flexing my fingers. I need this money.
      The white and black checked flag is raised. My fingers tighten on the gearstick and I breathe through my nose. One... two... The girl drops the flag... three. I drop the clutch and push the pedal to the floor. My only hope his to smoke this guy. My baby lurches forward and I’m pushed back into my seat. I shift up a gear, and again and again. It’s only a half-mile race but it feels like forever. The roar of my engine and the Camaro’s deafens my ears. And then I’m across the line.
      Shit. I won.
     I take my foot of the pedal and break gently, slowly. Eventually I come to a stop, a grin spread on my face. I fucking did it. I let out a deep breath, wiping the sweat from my forehead and lifting my stiff fingers from the gear stick.
        I pull myself together. I’ve earned respect in the streets and I have a reputation to uphold. Ice cold and relentless.
        People swarm around my car, cheering and whistling. I push the door open and climb out, keeping a straight but arrogant face, smiling at a couple of people. My eyes search the crowd but the person I’m looking for is nowhere to be seen.
        Danny pushes through the crowd and slaps a wad of cash into my hands, grinning. “Good job, hon.” He squeezes my shoulder.
      I thank him and begin counting the money as the crowd disperses, leaving to watch the next race. Five-hundred dollars. Relief flows through me. We’ll actually be able to survive this week.
         Once again, mum had failed the simple task of leaving the rent money out for me, causing me to have to race tonight. I don’t even want to know where the previous rent money ended up.
        “So, come here often?” A deep voice says behind me.
        I spin around. It’s Hayden. My tongue seems to be caught in my throat.
        “Good race, Goth Girl.” He says, winking at me.
        “Thanks.” I reply, cocking a hip to the side.
         "No, thank you.” He says.
        “For what?”
     “Well, I won the money to keep my boat.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest and gives me a lopsided smile, making my knees weak. Fuck, no one has ever made me feel like this before.
         I shrug. “No problem.”
        He studies me in silence and I refuse to look away. His eyes slowly slide down the rest of my body, pausing at my chest, at the strip of bare stomach and my legs. He licks his lips and his eyes shoot back up to mine.
        “Like what you see?” I ask dryly, placing a hand on my hip.
   “Very much so.” He replies. I stay silent; giving him a murderous stare that usually makes people stutter and apologise for no apparent reason. He doesn’t budge.
      “That didn’t look like ‘only once or twice.’” He says finally, jerking his head towards my car.
      My lips twitch, almost smiling. “A girl’s gotta have her secrets.”
       “Oh, I’m sure you have many.” He says in a low voice, stepping closer to me. Way too close. I hold my breath and look up at him through my eyelashes. For Christ sake, Sydney, get your shit together.
            “Um.” Great, really witty, Syd.
       “So,” he starts, his breath tickling my face. “You never answered me.”
           “About what?” My mind strays and I find it impossible to concentrate. Damn, his eyes are gorgeous.
          “I asked if I could take you out. Just as friends, if you wish.”
           My mind snaps back to reality. He’s not interested in you, I tell myself, he’s only interested in street-Sydney. I take a step back. “I can’t. I’m busy.”
       I see the disappointment in his eyes but he keeps his cocky-act going. He shrugs. “It’s your lost.”
            I roll my eyes and turn around, getting in my car. This isn’t the Hayden I was with earlier in the day, the Hayden that Riley worshipped.
            He grabs the door before I can close it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such an ass, it’s just –,”
           “—you’re not used to getting rejected.” I finish for him.
          “No. I just can’t think straight around you.” He says, looking me straight in the eye.
           I pause, raising an eyebrow. Part of me melts. Part of me thinks that maybe he does like me. Part of me hopes he does. Part of me wants to feel loved, to be wanted, to be desired.
           But it’s all bullshit. Love is for children.
          “Get off my car.” I growl.
          “Hang on, just wait a second.” He pulls out a pen from his pocket and crouches next to the car. He reaches across and grabs my arm, despite my best efforts to pull it away. He scribbles something on the back of my hand. “Just call me later, okay? I’ll make it up to you for being such a jerk.”
      I don’t answer. I wait until he’s out of the way before slamming the door closed.

I drive home trying to organise the thoughts in my head. He’s a dickhead. There’s no way I’m calling him. My eyes switch to his number on my hand and a picture of his grin pops into my head. I push it away. No, you’re not calling him. No matter how damn cute he is.

       I pull into the garage and lock the car. The lights are off inside which means everyone is still asleep. Good. I walk past mum who’s passed out on the couch and peer inside Bentley’s room. He’s fast asleep. I walk into my room that I share with Riley. He’s fast asleep too, his hands tucked underneath his chubby cheeks. I run the back of my finger down his face and kiss his forehead.
         Grabbing some pyjamas from the chest of drawers, I get changed. My eyes still can’t look away from Hayden’s number. I better write it down somewhere other than my hand... just in case, you know.