Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 11

Kaylah's POV

Two hours into trying to subtly talk some sense into Mateo, I had two game changing revelations. First, judging by his slightly confused running commentary and long pauses I concluded that my approach might be a tad too subtle for him to catch on. Second, judging by the amount of times his eyes seemed to drift to my lips or décolletage, I concluded my choice of make up and clothing might have just rendered this whole attempt pointless. Men.

I was impatiently drumming my fingers on the bike's handlebar when Ianie returned, carrying two bottles of water and a bag of crisps for me to nervously chew on, Mateo not to far behind, but entranced by his phone at the moment, no doubt staring at some mindless meme which might not even be relevant by tomorrow morning anymore. "Quit that c'mon. He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed but even he could tell you're pissed," they said, hand lightly brushing mine as they handed over the crisps and the bottle of water, heading over to their own bike. I could hear their tell-tale snort as I paid no heed to the bottle of water, which I hazardously dropped into my basket as I attacked the pack of chips and proceeded to try my best at stuffing it into my mouth in one go.

"Damn girl that big mouth would be damn good for much more than shovelling food in, you know" Mateo said, adding his poor attempt at a wink as he climbed back onto his bike and sped off, letting me heavily contemplate if he's worth the chase. Both literally and metaphorically. "Okay but he's ascended a new level of cringe. I'm impressed someone's jokes could exceed my level of awkwardness," Ianie said, rolling their bike to my right as we both watched Mateo come to the realisation that we indeed hadn't followed yet, and proceed to use both hands to wave us over, like a man marooned on an island trying to get the attention of a ship passing by. Self-deprecating humour never seemed to get old.

"Do you understand my frustration now?" I half screamed in exasperation, gesticulating in his general direction. "Never said I didn't. I just said I didn't understand why you feel like talking sense into him is your job," Ianie's tone was blunt, but with no real bite behind it. Most people took these kinds of comments as some kind of direct jab at their reasoning or judgement, failing to perceive them for what they actually are: inherently good-natured remarks made by someone slightly socially inept. I let loose a frustrated sigh, deciding that letting Mateo alone for longer than the span of a few minutes did no one any favours. I've never understood the affinity for solely the opposite sex. It must get quite tedious and dispiriting to continuously only play for the same misogynistic and eternally arrogant team.

My mind snapped back to the whole reason I was even trying to get through to Mateo, and checked my phone for what felt the hundredth time today, although I logically knew that between my phone's volume turned to a maximum and the vibrations, missing a text would be pretty much unfeasible. What's taking her so long? I checked my watch. Already close to 9. The last of the day's light was gone, turning the sky a dark indigo rapidly fading to black. I decided to send out one more text for good measure, and returned my attention to Mateo, who seemed to be rapidly losing interest in anything but however was supplying him with an endless amount random gif he deemed funny enough to respond with a laughing emoji to.

"You still with us?" I said slightly louder than necessary, earning a grumble from Ianie. But Mateo seemed to pay it no heed as he muttered a "yeah, sorry" and quickly placed his phone back in his pocket where it rested in silence for approximately 30 seconds before vibrating again. I could tell he was tempted to reach for it, but he stopped short, no doubt spying the still open conversation with Ari on the phone I held loosely in my hand, which made him perk up considerably. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Did she text back yet?" he sounded slightly worried, and this time I was inclined to empathize. I had caught him up to speed with the whole situation she had going on with Gage, which of course I failed to mention to Ari because I've known her long enough to know she wouldn't appreciate me sharing her current love life with an old flame. But I desperately felt like talking about it to someone who understood and shared my worry, because despite having Ianie to talk to, I felt at loss of someone viewing this as subjectively as I did. Of course, it also provided a superb way of sparking Mateo's interest in whatever I had to say, which unfortunately proved quite difficult to maintain without receiving any messages from Ari regarding the development of events.

"Not yet. I'm sure she will soon though, "my conviction about her texting back soon was shaky at best, but I didn't let that shine through lest I lose any chance of capturing his attention. Or worse, make him worry enough to text Ari himself.

"Look it's getting late and you know how my mom gets when I'm not back by 10 so...." he trailed off, at loss of words trying to make his pathetic excuse seem somewhat viable. Lacking the energy or conviction to call him out on it, I played along, channelling some of his naivety and lack of assertion. So I watched the mommy's boy walk off, giving us a hand gesture I could only interpret as a wave, letting me wallow in my own despair.

"C'mon, let me help you chill out," Ianie said boldly, pulling out her last two cigarettes. I never really understood what they actually contained or who made them. All I really knew was that she got them from her sister and that they normally made my anxiousness fuck off in approximately half an hour. Taking another look at the unanswered texts on my phone, I took the cigarette and lit it. "Wise choice."

Nate's POV

From the perspective of an outsider, I probably look like just any other football fanatic, watching in awe every single kick and move. In fact, I couldn't care less about football, yet I was well aware about how important my timing was. As soon as I'd sent that text, I knew exactly what I had set in motion. Some might have felt remorse or even feel responsible for what is sure to unravel in the following half hour. But I couldn't bring myself to muster any other feeling but grim smugness as I watched the green tick signifying my message being read pop up on the screen.

I got up, making my way through a dozen of grumbling supporters, mad at having their viewing perturbed. I could only scoff at their single mindedness as I made my way to my car, placing my phone on the dashboard. Picking up the book I had abandoned on the passenger's seat earlier. Let's see how long her conscience wins out for.