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Sang
"I'm going to kill him," I ground out through clenched teeth while slamming in and out of gears. Logan being Logan, he decided that it would be hugely comical to set my alarm clock an hour later than what I normally had it set at. I'd be lucky if I made it to my first class on time.
I was already pulling extra weight this week with the big race and after party coming up. I didn't have time for childish pranks. To make matters worse, I didn't get to wash my hair when I woke up this morning. Instead, I half-assed my way through my morning routine and sprinted out the door. Dressed in ripped jeans and my favorite leather jacket, my hair a sloppy mess, people were likely to believe I was doing a walk of shame after a particularly good night out.
Speeding around a corner, I let out a frustrated curse. The tires glided smoothly over the pavement in a move I had practiced hundreds of times. The 1967 Mustang that Asher helped me save from a life of rusting away in a junk yard had a miraculous amount of power. It was the only thing I was proud of when it came to my accomplishments.
Before I moved to Overton and met the Bradford boys, I didn't know the difference between a battery and a fuse. Sure, I liked to tinker with gears inside of clocks, but my knowledge on mechanics never went beyond that. It all changed the moment I went to the dirt track and watched Asher race for the first time.
I remembered the feeling vividly. College goers in the crowd screamed and hollered, the wind from fast cars whizzing by hit my face, the dust from the track tickled my nostrils. It was incredible. Even if I wasn't the one behind the wheel, adrenaline pumped through my blood stream and I felt alive for the first time in a long time.
I missed the rush I got from the Academy. Racing was to be its replacement.
I started saving up money from the diner to purchase my own car the very next day. I timidly asked Asher to teach me how to drive exactly like he did. I wanted to know all of his tricks. At the time he thought I was just another bimbo trying to get close to him and his brother, but he eventually gave in and decided to humor me. He definitely wasn't expecting my ability to give one-hundred percent effort into something I wanted.
It took several months of saving, but I was able to buy the car of my dreams from a junk yard for only a grand and a half. Despite the fact it was in no way pretty to look at, the body style blew my breath away. I knew I had to have it, and from that point on Asher made it his mission to teach me the ups and downs to working on cars.
I was no professional and often times needed Asher's help, but I was proud.
It took about fifteen minutes to reach campus. I pulled into a parking spot near the quad and slammed on my breaks. The sound of screeching tires filled the morning air, making the nearby students jolt in fright. I might've offered an apologetic smile if it weren't for the fact that I was already running late. In a hurry, I jumped out of the driver's seat and shut the door with care. My eyes immediately zeroed in on a certain table—or should I say person—in the quad. The object of my fury sat there, laughing like a damn hyena, while pointing in my direction.
