RACERS

CHAPTER TWO: An Invitation to Trouble

ISABELLE'S POV

Mia linked her arm through mine as we headed towards our classroom.

“So,” she began, giving me a suspicious look. “How was your morning?”

“Terrible.”

“Because you woke up late?”

“Because my mother has made it her life's mission to destroy my happiness.”

Mia laughed. “You're so dramatic.”

“I'm serious. I nearly died this morning.”

“From what?”

“An attack by my bedroom rug.”

She burst out laughing.

“Please tell me you're joking.”

“I wish I were.”

We were still laughing when she suddenly stopped walking.

“Anyway, guess what?”

I narrowed my eyes.

“No.”

Her mouth fell open. “I haven't even said anything!”

“And I'm already saying no.”

“Isabelle!”

“Mia!”

She folded her arms and gave me her most dramatic pout.

I stared at her.

She stared at me.

I sighed.

“Fine. What is it?”

Her smile returned immediately.

“There's a car meet tonight.”

I blinked.

Then I blinked again.

“A car meet?”

I tried very hard not to sound as excited as I suddenly felt.

Mia nodded enthusiastically.

“Tonight. At the old industrial district. My cousin knows someone who's going, and apparently, some serious drivers will be there.”

My heart gave an embarrassing little jump.

Cars.

Modified engines. Beautiful paint jobs. The sound of powerful machines roaring to life.

And people who actually understood why I could spend an entire afternoon talking about an engine rather than the latest school gossip.

For a moment, I forgot about everything else.

Then reality returned.

“My mother would bury me alive if she found out.”

Mia waved her hand dismissively.

“Your mother doesn't have to find out.”

I gave her a look.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“You say things like that as if my mother doesn't have the instincts of a private investigator.”

“Then don't get caught.”

“Brilliant advice. Should I also wear a sign that says, 'Hello, Mother, I'm doing exactly what you told me not to do'?”

Mia snorted.

“I'm serious, Belle. It'll be fun.”

I looked away, pretending to consider it.

The truth was, I'd wanted to attend a proper car meet for months. I watched racing videos whenever I had free time, followed car enthusiasts online, and knew more about certain engines than some people who actually owned the cars.

But my parents had made their position painfully clear.

Cars were acceptable as a hobby.

Racing was not.

And anything involving street racers was apparently a one-way ticket to ruining my entire future.

My father had once told me that he'd rather buy me a hundred books than watch me get behind the wheel of a racing car.

I'd told him that books didn't have turbocharged engines.

That conversation had ended with my phone confiscated for three days.

So, yes, my parents and I had different opinions on the subject.

“What time?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Mia's eyes widened.

“Wait. Does that mean you're considering it?”

“I asked a question, Mia. Don't make it a historical event.”

She grabbed my hands.

“Eight o'clock!”

“Keep your voice down!”

“Sorry.” She lowered her voice to an exaggerated whisper. “Eight o'clock.”

I pulled my hands away, laughing despite myself.

“I'm not promising anything.”

“Of course not.”

“And I'm not getting involved in any racing.”

“Obviously.”

“No arguing with strangers.”

“Absolutely.”

“And if things get dangerous, we're leaving. Immediately.”

Mia raised three fingers.

“I solemnly swear.”

“You're not funny.”

“I'm extremely funny. You're just emotionally unavailable.”

I rolled my eyes as we finally reached our classroom.

For the rest of the morning, I tried to concentrate on my lessons.

Tried being the important word.

Every few minutes, my thoughts drifted back to the car meet.

I imagined the rows of modified cars, the polished rims and the sound of engines echoing through the night.

I wondered what kinds of cars would be there.

Maybe a Nissan GT-R. Perhaps a modified Supra. If I was lucky, someone might bring a beautifully maintained Dodge Challenger.

I was so busy imagining it that I barely noticed when our teacher called my name.

“Miss Carter.”

I straightened immediately.

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Would you care to share with the class what appears to be so fascinating about the window?”

A few students chuckled.

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

“No, ma'am.”

“Then perhaps you would like to tell us what I've been explaining for the past five minutes?”

I stared at her.

The answer was absolutely nothing.

“I'm sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again.”

She gave me a warning look before returning to the board.

Beside me, Mia covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

I elbowed her.

She winced and whispered, “Violence is never the answer.”

“Neither is distracting me.”

She grinned.

By the time the final bell rang, I was ready to throw my books into my bag and run out of the building.

Unfortunately, freedom was not waiting for me outside.

My mother was.

She had insisted on picking me up that afternoon because she needed to run an errand nearby. And since my mother possessed an almost supernatural ability to notice when I was hiding something, I had to behave like the most innocent daughter on earth.

Which, naturally, made me look suspicious.

“You're awfully quiet,” she remarked as I settled into the passenger seat.

“I'm tired.”

“Did something happen at school?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

I turned towards her.

“Mum, I promise. Nothing happened.”

She studied me for another moment before starting the car.

“Good. Your father and I have enough to worry about without you adding to it.”

I swallowed.

There it was again.

That reminder that my parents had already decided what kind of future I should have.

A sensible future.

A safe future.

A future that apparently involved everything except the one thing that made my heart beat faster.

I looked out of the window as the streets passed by.

Tonight, I was supposed to be sensible.

Tonight, I was supposed to go home, eat dinner, finish my assignments and sleep.

Tonight, I was absolutely not supposed to attend a car meet.

And yet, as we pulled into our driveway, my phone vibrated inside my pocket.

I waited until my mother was distracted by her handbag before checking the message.

MIA: Eight o'clock. Don't disappoint me, Belle. I've already started planning our outfits.

I bit back a smile.

Another message appeared.

MIA: And apparently, the best racer in the city might be there.

My eyebrows rose.

ME: Best racer? Who?

Her reply came almost immediately.

MIA: Axel Moretti.

I frowned.

The name sounded unfamiliar.

ME: Should I know him?

MIA: GIRL. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

I rolled my eyes.

ME: At school. Where normal people go.

MIA: He's one of the most talked-about racers around here. My cousin says he's ridiculously good.

I leaned against the car seat.

ME: What car does he drive?

MIA: I KNEW THAT WOULD BE YOUR FIRST QUESTION.

ME: Mia.

MIA: A midnight-blue sports car. That's all I know.

A midnight-blue sports car.

Interesting.

Before I could reply, my mother shut her handbag and turned towards me.

“Isabelle, are you coming inside?”

I quickly locked my phone.

“Yes, Mum!”

I stepped out of the car, but my mind was already somewhere else.

Eight o'clock.

A car meet.

And a racer named Axel Moretti.

I had no idea who he was or what he looked like.

But I was beginning to think that tonight might be worth getting into trouble for.