When I arrive to the usual spot my friends and I park on a night out at the Pitt, Ayla was already munching on a half-empty bucket of popcorn smiling at what Sierra had said. Dane, ever the fuckin' Casanova, had two women wrapped under his arm. Without a doubt these were the same women who fell for his lousy drama minutes ago.
I notice Julian's absence immediately. He's probably getting ready for his race tonight. A comeback of some sorts. He and this guy named Ridge owned this caldera looking land where the massive dipped looked wider than the height of the Empire State building. It was called a Pitt of a reason.
The cemented ground and fenced tracks was a far cry from the old dusty illegal betting site which was the rave of Ridgewood High students. Since Julian's renovations, the place
