Francena Nakamura never expected that, for the usage of her senior year, she'll be helping Julian Dean - star captain of the soccer team and her ex-crush - find her old pseudonym, Miss Incomplete.
Never did she expect, that in the process, she'll f...
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Little Tokyo is the considered name for the Japanese-styles Chinatown. It's not officially mentioned in the story, but is very dedicated to the setting.
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We exit out of the coffee shop, with the drinks tucked between our fingers. Julian managed to go into detail about our relationship—having barely know anything about the other, other than the fact that we've been in a couple of classes together for the past four years and assigned as seating partners in that one year during middle school—and decided that we should use this wasted time to get to know one another.
I didn't want to go in the suburbs, as there was barely any activities going on within our town; and we found ourselves deciding on the city.
We stopped in front of a sleek black Mustang. The sculpture was beautiful, with the entire vehicle being ebony colour; however with sprouts of bright red within the interior of the headlights, the rim of the tires and the logo of the Mustang branded on the side of the passenger door. Little to no other colours flaunt the sport car, and with the tinted windows near to dark, it fixed on the features in almost onyx glory.
"Nice ride," I complimented, running my fingers against the hood. The metal was smooth and clean, not a scratch in sight. Actually, not a scratch anywhere on the magnificent beauty. "You must love this car."
He chuckles, nodding as he eyes his own masterpiece, "that I do," he replies with a click of a button; the locks pulled and allowed access in. Julian walks over and opens up the passenger door in the two-door car.
"Such a gentleman," I teased, getting into the automobile with a thanks that exits my lips. Julian shuts the door behind me, heading over to his side as I begin to admire the interior architect of the car.
The leather seats confined with dark linen; the radio was styled in an old development with no technological screen as the radio station. I concluded the car was an old model, somewhere during the times where technology hasn't advanced to the conclusion that it is today. Not a spec of dirt in sight within his car.
"When did you bought it?" I ask, looking away from admiring his car to his face. His eyes were pulled towards the road as he lights the engine to life, pulling out of the parking lot.
