The Perfect Storm

Chapter 80

I look down at my phone that is flooding with messages from Miles all day, and ten pm isn't any different. Now that I know about his childhood, I'm tempted to forgive everything, but I can't. No matter what he's gone through, he's still in the wrong.

"Miles wants you to come with, it's starting in . . ." Stephanie looks down at her phone before continuing, "Exactly five minutes."

"Come where?" I ask and she smiles.

"He's competing in chicken with Jacob."

"Chicken?" I giggle and she nods.

"Yeah, two cars drive towards each other and the loser sways away before they collide." My eyes go wide.

"A car accident?" I gasp and quickly stand up form my bed.

"Not really, one of them will probably sway away." She says calmly.

"Probably?" I look at her with wide eyes before quickly slipping into my shoes and heading out the door with Stephanie following me.

"Why isn't anyone trying to stop this?" I ask as we run towards the end of the hallway.

"It's not on school property, and . . . everyone wants to see which one of them will be the chicken." She explains and my mouth is almost agape. 

I frantically search for a doof to exit through. No matter how well I know this building, in a time like this, I feel like all knowledge has escaped my head. 

The text messages from Miles explained the location a few times since he wanted to make sure I'd come, but I had no interest until now—until I knew how dangerous it was.

"Here," Stephanie says, opening her car. 

We quickly buckle our seat belts, and she turns on the engine, reversing out of the muddy parking lot. 

After what feels like an hour we finally arrive to a crowded place, people underdressed in the light rain with red cups in their hands cover the whole area. 

I rush out of the car and as soon as I approach the crowd, I see just what they're looking at. Two cars are facing each other. 

A red Ferarri in the far left and a black Lamborghini in the far right. My eyes frantically search the place for Miles as I walk through the crowd hearing a few 'watch it' comments from barely dressed girls with black lipsticks. 

I look back but don't see Stephanie anywhere.

"Madison." I hear that familiar voice call and I stop in my tracks, slowly turning around to see him—to see Miles. We stand there under the dark night with music blasting all around us.

"You're just in time." He says and I look at him confused but before I can speak, he grabs my hand and takes me towards his car. 

 All kinds of people start cheering as a tall girl stands in the middle. She's wearing a neon yellow bra and her shorts are too small for her. She holds a flag as Miles puts on a motorcycle helmet.

"What is going on?" I ask.

"I'm going to win . . . for us." He looks at me before sliding a plastic sheet over his eyes.

"For us, or . . . for you?" I ask and he closes his lips.

"Miles please don't do this," I say frantically as the girl lifts her hand up in the air with the flag waiting to be put down again.

"I . . . I have to." He says and I shake my head.

"What are you talking about?" I shake mine as my eyes search desperately for an answer in those hazel eyes; the eyes that won't tell me what's behind them.

"Get set boys." The girl yells and my stomach churns.

"Let's go—" I say, attempting to open the door but his strong hand stops me.

"I need you . . . I need you with me." He says and before I can stop him, that flag falls down and the race starts. 

Miles speeds up faster than I can blink and before I know it, the race has begun. I look over at Miles who's focused even with the raindrops on the windshield.

"Miles, sway away before it's to late, sway away please." I beg him but his eyes are pierced on the road as my heat starts to beat faster and faster. 

Anxiety rushes through me and I feel almost numb as I see Jacob's red Ferarri approaching.

"Miles." I say again but he doesn't look at me. He clenches his jaw and watched Jacob's Ferrari like a hawk as the car approaches. I gulp and hold tightly onto my seatbelt, trying to see through the raindrops on the windshield.

"He's a bitch, he'll sway away," Miles says harshly under his breath.

"Please turn on the windshield wipers!" I yell as I see the familiar red closer than ever, hoping my eyes are playing tricks on me.

"Miles!" I yell again, and he finally does, but it's too late, and Jacob's Red Ferarri collides with Miles's Lamborghini with a loud clash.