Pretty Little Street Racer

I listened to the familiar jingle as I logged out of my computer and tidied my work cubicle. I let out a long sigh, relieved that the work week was finally over and I could go home and rest before starting back up on Monday. Josh poked his head up from his cubicle and looked into mine as I stood and gathered my things. “Been a long week?” He questioned. I nodded my head and said, “Longer than you know.” The conversation had already carried on longer than I would have liked, but he just kept on talking. “Do you have any plans tonight or this weekend? I’m going out with some friends later and would love for you to join.” I sighed and said, “I have plans all weekend every weekend for the rest of my life Josh. I would really appreciate it if you would stop asking me the same question every Friday evening.” With that I walked away from the set of cubicles and towards the elevator that would free me from this hell hole of a cover up. The doors were about to shut when a bony little hand slid between them and Josh stepped in. This is just fan-fucking-tastic. I thought to myself as he went to the opposite corner of the small elevator. The ride down to the lobby seemed longer than it usually did every other day. “Alexandria?” Josh started. “Why do you have to be such a b***h all the time? Like seriously? It’s not like I’m asking you on a date or trying to get into your pants. I’m just genuinely interested in you. What’s so wrong with that? Everyone that tries to get close to you, you’re just rude to. Karen, Stacy, Ryan, and now me. Why?” By the time his little rant was over, the doors opened and granted me my freedom from this awkward conversation. I stepped through the doors and hauled ass to the parking lot, trying to escape the multitude of questions. “Answer me Alexandria!” Josh yelled out as he tried to keep up with my pace. I swiveled on my heels and faced him, “Josh, I’m not someone to be messed with. My life isn’t really one that normal people should become entangled in; so take my advice and just stay away from me. Ask me work related questions all you want, but do not ask me questions about my life. Did I make myself clear?” At this point we had drawn the attention of a few co-workers and passerbyers. “No Alexandria. You did not make yourself clear; I still have questions.” He continued. I opened the door to my car and stepped in. “This is the end of our little discussion Josh.” I said as I closed the car door and drove off towards my house. After a thirty minute drive from Augusta, I was finally home from the weekend. My car skid into my driveway and I laid on the breaks, coming to a complete stop. I got out of my little Ford Focus and slammed the door, heading up the stone path to the front door of my beautiful two story log cabin.  Before you start to think that I am a pampered only child that got every little, or big, thing that she wanted, let me stop you. When I said that my office job was just a cover up, I meant it. Obviously there is no way that I can afford this house with a minimum wage office job. I dropped my purse on the floor as I entered my house and started to relax. I ran a hand through my wind whipped hair and said out loud, “Time for a shower.” I quickly got ready for the shower and stepped onto the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. It was like stepping right onto a frozen over lake with no protection over your feet. I made haste to the shower and turned the hot water almost all the way on, not wasting any of my precious weekend time. When I was done washing off the horrible smell of the office, I flicked the water off and stepped out of the shower and into a steam filled bathroom. I wrapped a towel around my body and one around my hair before making my way to my bedroom to get changed for tonight. After applying my makeup, I slipped into some tight fishnet leggings with shorts that started to show the bottoms of my butt cheeks and a bandeau that barely contained my chest. I topped the outfit off with a leather jacket and knee high boots. “Time to get out of here.” I said as I exited my room and headed to the garage to retrieve my car of the night. There was plenty to choose from, cars was one thing that I had no shortage of. I had the exotics; McLaren 650s, Audi R8 V10, and everyone has to have their collection of Lamborghini’s and Ferrari’s. Muscle; Mustang, Dodge Charger and Challenger, Chevelle and the Nova. Imports; Aston Martin, Nissan Skyline and the Nissan GTR. After a long, hard decision, I grabbed a set of keys from the rack and jumped in my midnight blue Nissan GTR, opening the garage door at the same time. The only thing that was keeping me from pulling out of the garage was a stunned Josh standing in my way. I stepped out of the car and advanced towards him. “Close your mouth. You aren’t a fly trap.” I said in a snappy tone. His mouth closed and remained silent. “What are you doing here?” I questioned, arms crossed over my almost bare chest. He scrambled for words before saying, “Well, first off, holy s**t! Second, I followed you to find out exactly what you do that makes you not ‘normal’.” He made quotations in the air when he said the word normal. “And I’ve figured it out.” He finished. I scoffed, “Yeah? What exactly did you figure out?” I asked rolling my eyes. He looked me up and down before saying, “You’re obviously a very expensive stripper.” I couldn’t contain the laughter that exploded from my mouth. It took a couple of minutes before I could compose myself enough to talk to him again. “No Josh; I’m not a stripper. Now get out of my way.” He mimicked me by crossing his arms and sticking his left hip out just a little to the side. “You know I’m just going to follow you wherever you end up, so wouldn’t it be easier if you just took me with you?” I stood there for a long while before I said, “No. Move before I run you over.” We both stood, arms crossed facing each other, waiting for the other to call their bluff. I sighed and shook my head, walking back to my car. “So you’re letting me come with?” Josh asked, his voice filled with hope. I flung the car door open, and before stepping in, I answered, “No. I’m going to run you over.” I closed the door and revved the engine, hoping that I wouldn’t have to bury a body before the races. He stood as still as a statue, not budging an inch. I bunny hopped the car a couple of inches towards him and he still didn't move out of the way. I groaned out loud and gripped the steering wheel to the point that the leather started to creek. "Alright buddy. This is all your fault." I mumbled to myself before pressing down on the gas pedal. ~~~ I pulled up to the Drop, the crowd was already pushing the maximum limit. I could feel the pent up stress from the week exit my body. As I opened the car door, the sound of roaring engines and screaming fans filled every empty space in the car. I stepped out and slammed the door. I looked to the crowd and yelled out, "The Queen is here!" My statement brought more waves of screaming and applause. I pushed my way through the crowd up to where Thunder stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His biceps strained the sleeves of his shirt and I could almost make out the shape of his abs through the material. If you didn't know Thunder, you would probably be intimidated and think that he'd beat the ever loving s**t out of you if you did anything to inconvenience him. To me, he's just a big ol' teddy bear. He's the one that introduced me to street racing seven years ago. He taught me everything I know. He made me great enough to beat the best and earn my title as Queen of the Drop. I owe everything to him. "What do we have so far?" I questioned as I stood next to him watching the races going on below us. Thunder bowed and then said, "Well your majesty, we have some regulars looking to win their money back from last week. You remember John Howard? The one that drove the neon green 2016 Ford Mustang." I sighed and then said, "I remember that asshole. Who even let him back in? He talks s**t all night about how he's the best and then cries like a little b***h when he gets beaten by a girl." Thunder laughed out loud and then said, "Well Queen Alexandria, this is a public place, so we kinda can't kick him out of here for that reason." I playfully punched him in the arm and said, "How many times have I told you to just call me Alex? We've known each other for seven years now; you're practically a brother at this point. Do I have any other competition other than that dickhead again?" He pointed down to a group of four cars and then said, "That's your fresh meat of the night. They all seem to be high schoolers that are wasting mommy and daddy's money." Looking closer at the group, I couldn't recognize any of them, but then again, I graduated years ago and haven't stepped foot on that campus since graduation night. "Thanks Thunder, I'm going to go see what I can find out about all of the fresh meat around here tonight." I said as I walked down the hill and through the crowd. About halfway to the boys Mr. John Howard stepped in my path. He spoke with a thick Scottish accent, "Do ye know why I'm back lassy?" He staggered around as if he had too much to drink tonight. "Ima tell ye why I'm back. I'm here ta win back me fuckin money that ye stole from me last week." At this point he was right up in my face and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. Everyone around us went dead silent. "I didn't steal any of your money you drunk. You lost it when you lost the race." I said as I stepped back to put more space between him and myself. He shoved me and then shouted, "I want me money back now ya cheating b***h!" Before I could get another sentence out, he punched me right in the jaw sending my head to the right. I felt blood trickling from my bottom lip. I reached up and touched my jaw and rubbed the crimson blood off of my face. Before I could knock him into next Tuesday, he was on the ground pinned by Thunder. "Get him out of here Thunder." I said while I made my way to the boys.  The whole group looked like preppy mommas boys. Well, three of them did. One of them didn't quite fit in with the rest of the group. I put my hands on my hips and said, "Are you boys here for a different type of adrenaline rush or are you just here to sit on your cars trying to show off those muscles that you clearly don't have?" They all had nice muscle cars, 2018 Mustang, Barracuda, Chevelle SS, and a 1969 Dodge Charger. The boy atop the Mustang slid off and shot his hand out for a handshake. "Bro, I wouldn't do that, you just witnessed what happened to the last dude that laid hands on her." One of his friends said with a serious tone in his voice. I swatted his hand away and stated, "Nice cars boys; where did you get them? Your daddy's garage?" They all laughed and then the one in front of me said, "My girlfriend's parents actually bought me mine. My name is Aaron Ezra; my family owns a share in every mechanic shop in this town." I laughed and then said, "Yeah. I know, can't get anything done without giving your f*****g family all of my money." I moved on to the one sitting on the Chevelle. "And what about you pretty boy? Who are you?" He cracked a smile and then said, "I'm Deangelo Carter, but all of my friends call me Dusty. The car got passed down when my father passed away three years ago. I've taken care of her every day since. She's like my baby. She comes before everything. I'm not looking for a race tonight, I'm just here for support." I nodded and moved on. The boy on the Barracuda slid down and stood in front of me. "I'm Grant Lazaro. My parents did actually buy me the car for my seventeenth birthday. I'm just here for moral support." He made the introduction short and sweet. I liked him. "Cute." I said as I kept going. The owner of the 1969 Dodge Charger wasn't sitting on the hood, instead he was leaning up against the car.  "And who are you?" I asked. His slumping posture stayed the same. "I'm Dominic Cruz. I'll race you." I laughed out loud. "Oh honey, you don't just get to race the Queen on your first night. You're going to have to work your way up the ladder like everyone else does." I turned to walk back up the hill when Aaron called out, "You're just going to refuse a race from two people because we are at the bottom? That doesn't make any sense. Money is money. Right?" I looked back at him and calmly said, "Baby, it doesn't have to make sense to you. Yes, money is money, but that's how we roll around here. If you want to race me, you and your buddies need to work your way up so I don't completely rob you." I finished with a smirk and then walked back up the hill. “Done making your rounds already?” Thunder asked as I approached him wheezing and out of breath. “I see now that this is why you race instead of running marathons!” He said, laughing out loud as I was almost doubled over catching my breath. “You would think that after walking that hill every Friday and Saturday night for the last seven years that it would just get easier.” I managed to wheeze out before standing up straight. A couple hours passed of just watching the races below and chatting with Thunder. “You aren’t going to race tonight?” He asked. “I know of a couple racers that would like to take another shot at beating the Queen of the Drop.” I looked down at everyone drinking, laughing, racing, and just having a grand ol’ time. “I don’t know. If I do, it won’t be until later.” I said to him while I stared out over my kingdom. I looked at my phone, checking the time, “Okay Thunder, set up eight races. After that, I am headed home.” He nodded his head and made his way down the hill, trying to find worthy opponents. After about ten minutes, I was lining up for my first of many races of the night. It seemed like after the first race began, the night flew by. Before I knew it, it was already two fifty-seven in the morning. The wind started to pick up and brought with it the bitter Canadian cold air, along with a couple rain drops. The majority of the racers had already gone home, but not the four high schoolers. They were still atop their cars, chit chatting amongst themselves. I turned my head from them and towards my car. “Time to head home sweet girl.” I said while patting the roof of the car.